57. Otsmakh in all his glory. He is pleased with himself. He is wearing lacquered officers’ boots with spurs, white buckskin breeches, and a pages velvet jacket.
58. A squalid dressing room. Ratkovich is tuning his violin next to Otsmakh. Otsmakh turns to him:
59. “MAY I CEASE BEING OTSMAKH, IF TODAY I DO NOT WIPE THE FLOOR WITH THAT FAMOUS POS-SARD PERFORMANCE!”
60. Otsmakh rings the bell, and dashes backstage. He runs past three women wearing the most bizarre stage makeup.
61. THE THREE DAUGHTERS OF KING LEAR.
62. Two of the daughters are stout, middle-aged Jewish women, the third is a girl of about six. Like Otsmakh, the actresses are also wearing lacquered officers boots with spurs. Their stomachs are squeezed into satin vests. One of the women is wearing a kind of helmet from which two braids hang down; the second woman, a cap full of feathers. The third of King Lear s daughters—the six-year-old—has her hair loose, and is wearing a garland of paper flowers. The girl has on a simple peasant tunic. The Jewish women are having a quick snack before the curtain rises. Otsmakh runs past them with the bell.
63. Otsmakh runs onto the stage, the curtain is down.
64. AT THE COURT OF KING LEAR.
65. King Lears throne stands to the side of the stage. Above the throne hang Japanese fans and family photographs of God knows who, mostly military figures. Right in front of the audience is a case with Hebrew inscriptions, like the cases in synagogues where the Torah scrolls are kept. Otsmakh rings the bell, and looks through a hole in the curtain at the audience.
66. The eighth row of the orchestra. The audience is from a little ramshackle Galician town. Hasidic men, old women in brown wigs and headdresses, young men with swank sideburns, opulent Jewish women in tightly corseted dresses. A multitude of children. Babies make up a third of the audience. They are squealing, crying, or sleeping. One baby is causing a particularly loud ruckus. Suddenly it calms down. Its face takes on a deeply pensive, thoughtful expression. The man sitting in the next seat jumps up in a fury. He points at his wet suit and at the puddle on the seat. The woman wrings her hands and carries the child off.
67. The woman rushes through the theater and the foyer holding the peeing, hollering child out in front of her. She runs out onto a balcony that overlooks the town, which is submerged in mist. She seats the child on the railing.
68. Otsmakh continues looking over the audience. The theater manager rushes up to him.
69. “PROFESSOR RETI IS IN THE AUDIENCE!”
70. Otsmakh looks blankly at the manager. The manager elucidates:
71. “THE FAMOUS PROFESSOR RETI FROM THE BERLIN CONSERVATORY!”
72. Otsmakh wraps himself in his black cloak embroidered with butterflies and skulls. He rushes backstage, and from there to the professors box, where, with deep bows he greets the professor and his daughter as they enter the box. The professor is an old man in a tailcoat, with long wavy gray hair. Otsmakh kowtows before him.
73. “TODAY, MY DEAR PROFESSOR, YOU WILL HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO SEE OTSMAKH WIPING THE FLOOR WITH POSSARD’S FAMOUS PERFORMANCE!”
74. Otsmakh disappears as suddenly as he appeared. The stupefied professor watches him leave.
75. The lights go out in the auditorium. The audience seats itself, the children play in the aisles. Otsmakh comes out onto the ramp in front of the curtain. He takes a deep bow and proclaims:
76. “NOW, DEARLY BELOVED CLIENTS, WE WILL PRESENT THE LATEST CREATION OF THE RENOWNED NEW YORK AUTHOR AND VAUDEVILLIST, JACOB SHAKESPEARE, ‘KING LEAR/ OR THEY WERE THICK AS THIEVES’!”
77. Otsmakh finishes his speech, takes a deep bow, and disappears behind the curtain. At that moment the conductors baton appears above the rim of the orchestra pit. The baton turns out to be an everyday walking stick with a silver monogram and a small strap on the end.
78. The conductor is wearing an Austrian officers uniform and has a yarmulke on his head. He stands rigidly, his hands barely moving; he doesn’t conduct, he simply winks at the musicians whose turn it is to play.
79. The orchestra in action. The musicians: Hasidim wearing coats. Young Ratkovich stands in a prominent place. In the corner, the German drummer is waving his drumsticks about in the air. The drummer is drunk.
80. The conductor winks gravely at the drummer.
81. The drunk German hurries back to his drum and gives it a powerful blow. Ignoring the conductors anxious winks, the German continues beating the drum. The Germans wife is standing behind him and pulls him away from the drum. She holds her drunken husband tightly by his coattails, and only lets him go when it is his turn to beat the drum.
82. Professor Reti and his daughter are watching the drummer and are shaking with laughter. They are sitting in the front loge. The old man is leaning back in his seat laughing out loud.
83. The orchestra falls silent. The conductor winks at Ratkovich. He begins to play.
84. His solo.
85. Ratkovichs intense face, the violin, thin fingers flying over the strings.
86. Professor Reti, still leaning back in his seat, stops laughing. The old man sits upright and peers at Ratkovich.
87. The solo.
88. Ratkovichs thin fingers rushing over the strings.
89. The drummers wife leans against her dozing husbands back and listens with rapture to Ratkovichs playing.
90. The professor leans forward over the railing of his theater box. His eyes are fixed on Ratkovich. He grabs hold of his daughters hand.
91. “PAPA, WHAT’S WRONG?”
92. The professor, elated, stands up, sings, conducts, sways.
93. “HOW HE CAN PLAY! OH, HOWTHIS BOY CAN PLAY!”
94. Ratkovich has jumped up from his stool. He plays standing. Inspiration rocks him. His thin, intense face is distorted, pale, and beautiful. His fingers fly over the neck of the violin with diabolic speed. He finishes.
95. The conductor, his mouth open, lowers his baton and stands frozen in the orchestra pit.
96. The musicians, crouching, trudge toward the exit. Ratkovich shuffles out behind them. The drummer wakes up, shudders, and gives the drum a powerful blow. At that moment, the curtain rises.
97. The professor rushes out of the box. He gets caught on the door handle and his jacket tears. He hurries on.
98. The curtain is up. Otsmakh is lounging in a relaxed but mournful pose on his throne. His three daughters are at his feet, looking up at him adoringly. In the opposite corner is a group of doleful courtiers wearing a wild medley of costumes. The court jester stands next to the throne. He is an incredibly lanky, red-haired Jew. He is wearing American checkered pants, a Tyrolean hat, and is holding a rattle. Otsmakh, emerging from profound thoughts, claps his hands.
99. A coquettish maid in an apron and a frilly cap moves a small table with little snacks and a bottle of wine next to the throne. There is a label on the bottle. Otsmakh pours himself some wine, his little finger delicately lifted, and drinks half a glass. With a majestic sweep he pours the rest on the floor. The maid grabs a broom, rushes toward the throne, and begins sweeping at the wine.
100. The musicians, crouching, hobble toward the exit along a narrow corridor beneath the stage. Professor Reti comes rushing up to Ratkovich, and grabs him by the lapel:
101. “WHO ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU FROM?”
102. Ratkovich looks at the old man in astonishment. The professor is tugging harder and harder at his lapel.
103. “WHO IS YOUR TEACHER?”
104. Ratkovich bows awkwardly, stiffly, very self-consciously.
105. “I... I STUDIED WITH RABBI ZALMAN IN DERAZHNY, IN THE DISTRICT OF VOLHYNIA.”
106. The old professors coat is torn. The old man is intense—he clasps his head, shakes Ratkovichs hand, pats his shoulder.
107. “PLAY SOMETHING, PLAY SOMETHING FOR ME, MY DEAR BOY!”
108. Ratkovich looks about helplessly. The obsequious conductor motions him to play. Ratkovich places his violin under his chin.
; 109. The tragedy of King Lear is unfolding. His eldest daughter, the stays of her corset jutting out, is dancing before the king. She strikes voluptuous poses. The courtiers clap and sing as at a Jewish wedding. But suddenly one of the courtiers—he is wearing a top hat and a coat of armor—commits an act of unprecedented effrontery. He pinches the kings daughters breast. Otsmakh notices this. He pulls his sword out of its sheath and throws himself on the miscreant. A bloody duel ensues. The king and the courtier engage in a sword fight.
110. Professor Reti is sitting backstage on a pile of ropes in a corner. Covering his face with his hands, he is listening to Ratkovich play. The young man has finished playing. The old man lowers his hands from his face, which is twisted with emotion. He jumps up, grabs Ratkovichs hand, drags him to a large office calendar hanging on the wall. The date on the calendar is Thursday, August 19, 1909. Pointing at the calendar, the old man says:
111. “COME STUDY WITH ME! I SWEAR TO YOU THAT WITHIN THREE YEARS YOU WILL BE A GREAT ARTIST!”
112. A close-up of the calendar. A hand slowly lifts up the top page and bends it back.
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113. Briansky Station in Moscow. A crowd of porters and people who have come to meet the train. In the background, a grid with a board showing the arrival times of the trains.
114. The board. The date: December 11, 1912. Time of arrival: 1.57 P.M.
115. THE DATE ON THE BOARD.
116. The train pulls into the station. The porters and the waiting crowd rush toward the arriving train.
117. Jostling and shoving on the platform. The unloading of passengers. Family scenes.
118. A tall, flushed Russian girl descends from a third-class car. Her whole family rushes to embrace her: an old colonel, a flamboyant student, two little cadets wearing large caps, an old maid wearing a hat with dangling ribbons. They kiss the girl, push flowers at her, call over porters. All their faces are filled with emotion. Right behind her, Rachel gets off the train with all her bundles.
119. A wave of people carries Rachel to the exit. She is weighed down by her bundles and bags.
120. Porters are wheeling carts packed high with bags along the plat-
form. On one of the carts is a live bird in a cage. A grinding stream of carts flows past Rachel. She is blocking their way. The bewildered girl is trapped between mountains of speeding baggage. The porters yell and curse at her for all they are worth. One porter shouts:
121. “LOOK WHO’S COME TO TOWN FROM THE STICKS!”
122. Stunned, Rachel staggers back. The carts fly past, sparks flashing from their wheels.
123. At the baggage checkroom. Rachel is checking alLher things. Over her head fly bales, bundles, a bag. ^
124. Rachel is standing on the square in front of the Briansky Station. The crowd at the station disperses. A provincial girl in Moscow. She goes up to a policeman and asks him the way. The policeman, wearing cotton gloves, explains very politely which tram she has to take. She hurries to catch a tram.
125. Rachel in the tram. She is surrounded by tram passengers, the most hard-hearted people in the world. Ecstatically, Rachel drinks in the never-before-seen splendor of the tram.
126. The man standing next to Rachel is a doleful, red-nosed bureaucrat wearing a uniform cap. He asks her in a sour voice:
127. “WHAT’S THERE TO BE SO CHEERFUL ABOUT?”
128. Rachel answers, beaming:
129. “IT IS SUCH FUN TO BE TRAVELING ON A MOSCOW TRAM!”
130. The bureaucrat raises his eyebrows and moves away from her. He is under the impression that she is a lunatic.
131. Rachel gets off the tram, goes to an old, two-story building with a sign: “Rossiya. Rooms to Let. I. R Butsenko.”
132. The kitchen in the Rossiya boardinghouse. Bright cleanliness. The boardinghouse is owned by Butsenko and his wife, an old couple with neatly protruding bellies. Both are wearing clean aprons. They are busy preparing potato dumplings.
133. Rachel is standing at the entrance of the Rossiya boardinghouse. She takes a letter out of her bag and rings the bell.
134. The kitchen. The doorbell rings. Butsenko takes off his apron and patters to the front door.
135. Butsenko opens the door: “May I help you?” Rachel timidly hands him the letter. The old man leads her over to his desk, takes his copper-rimmed spectacles out of a drawer, and begins to read. As he reads, a tender smile brightens his face.
136. A close-up of the letter: “DEAREST IVAN POTAPICH. WITH ALL MY HEART I RECOMMEND THE BEARER OF THIS LETTER, A GIRL FROM MY TOWN, TO BE A LODGER AT YOUR BOARDINGHOUSE. SHE LEFT OUR TOWN WITH GREAT DIFFICULTY AND HAS HEADED FOR MOSCOW IN ORDER TO CONTINUE HER EDUCATION, FOR WHICH SHE HAS AN UNQUENCHABLE PASSION....”
137. The little old man throws down the letter, takes Rachels hands in his, squeezes them gently, bursts into an endless fit of laughter, and takes her into the kitchen to meet his wife.
138. In the kitchen. Butsenko takes Rachel over to the old woman:
139. “VLADIMIR SEMYONICH HAS SENT US A LODGER.”
140. The old woman clasps her plump hands together, dries her fingers on her apron, and kisses Rachel on both cheeks. Butsenko pulls Rachel away from his wife.
141. “MOTHER, YOU’LL SMOTHER THE POOR GIRL WITH YOUR KISSES! WHY NOT GO PUT ON THE SAMOVAR?
142. Butsenko takes the girl to her room. It is a cozy, old-fashioned room. There are icons and an icon lamp in the corner. Another icon, a tiny one, is hanging on the headboard of the bed. Butsenko rushes around, puts things away, and hurries off with a jug to get water.
143. The tiny icon hanging on the headboard.
144. Rachel is alone. She takes off her hat and walks over to the window.
145. Outside the window stands an ancient Moscow church with its onion-shaped domes.
146. Butsenko, panting and beaming, comes in with the jug of water and a clean towel. Rachel washes up. She brushes her teeth, thoroughly washes her face and hands. She gasps with pleasure. The old man looks tenderly at her unbound hair and the wonderful, virginal nape of her neck. Rachel continues washing for a long time, and the old man, tired of standing with the towel in his hands, walks over to the table and looks at Rachels passport. A change comes over his face.
147. Rachel is washing, gasping with pleasure.
148. Old Mrs. Butsenko comes busding through the corridor, carrying a tray with steaming pies, tea glasses, and a samovar that envelops her head with a cloud of steam.
149. Butsenko is holding Rachels passport in his hands. He peers at Rachel, and then, with a nasty expression on his face, continues leafing through her passport.
150. A close-up of the passport: RACHEL KHANANEVNA MONKO, 19 YEARS OF AGE, UNMARRIED.
151. There is a look of surprise on the old mans face. He adjusts his spectacles on his nose, and reads page three of her passport.
152. The heading on page three: ZONES IN WHICH JEWS ARE PERMITTED TO RESIDE.
153. The old woman puts the pies, glasses, and samovar on the table. Rachel has just finished washing up. She laughs, and with her bare, strong hands reaches out for the towel which the old man is holding. But Butsenko wont give her the towel, he pulls it away. There is anger, fear, and reproach in his meek face. Shaking his head, he says:
154. “A JEWESS! THE SHAME OF IT!”
155. Rachels face. Having been refused the towel, she dries her wet face with the hem of her skirt.
156. Butsenko stamps his foot and shouts to his wife, “Take all of that away!” The indignant old woman removes the tray she had prepared for Rachel. The old womans head is enveloped by the samovar s steam. Cut.
157. Evening. Boisterous, prerevolutionary Moscow crowds. To one side stands a little chapel. Lit candles, sparkling icons, worshipers bowing and praying. Rachel appears from around the corner.
158. Three tiny gypsy girls are dancing in the street, beating tambourines. They are draped in coin necklaces and are wearing long dresses that reach to the ground. The gypsy girls see
Rachel, rush over to her, and dance all around her.
159. Rachel tries to break out of their noisy circle.
160. She gives the gypsy girls a coin and escapes. An old Persian man in an embroidered caftan blocks her way. He directs an equivocal, old-mans smile at her, and touches her breast with the painted nail of his finger.
161. The half-dressed figure of a holy fool emerges next to Rachel and the Persian. The holy fools body is shivering vigorously. His bald, egg-shaped head is wagging.
162. The Persians fingers with their painted nails slither slowly over Rachels breasts.
163. Three faces: Rachels, the Persians, the holy fools.
164. The holy fool is grimacing, spittle is bubbling in his tangled beard, he asks threateningly for alms. Rachel runs away.
165. Rachel runs in a panic through the streets, the holy fool stumbling after her.
166. Night. Rachel runs over the Zamoskvoretsky Bridge.
167. The Moscow River, the embankment. The glitter of the snow. Black iron gratings over the snow. Far away the illuminated windows of factories and homes.
168. A quiet back alley in the Zamoskvoretsky quarter. A line of gas lamps. A well-dressed man in a fur coat is leaning against a wall, drinking vodka out of a bottle.
169. The door of the Hero of Plevna rooming house in the depths of the alley.
170. The sign: “FAMILY ROOMING HOUSE FOR TRAVELERS—EVERY CONVENIENCE.”
171. Rachel hurries over to the entrance and reaches for the door handle. The door opens unexpectedly. A man of about twenty-four comes out. He has a round, cheerful face, and the devil-may-care cap of a vagabond student on his curls. Stopping at the entrance, he peers at Rachel, scrutinizing her carefully. Rachel goes into the rooming house.
172. The office of the Hero of Plevna rooming house. Orlov, the attendant, a drowsy fellow in a vest, is playing draughts with a solemn old man who has the appearance of an Old Believer.* Orlov is wearing galoshes on his bare feet and cavalry breeches tied at the
* The Old Believers were an archconservative Christian sect that had split from the Russian
Orthodox Church in the seventeenth century.
The Complete Works of Isaac Babel Reprint Edition by Isaac Babel, Nathalie Babel, Peter Constantine Page 84