Read The Library Paradox Online
Authors: Catherine Shaw
And all the king’s servants, that were in the king’s gate, bowed, and reverenced Haman: for the king had so commanded concerning him. But Mordecai bowed not, nor did him reverence … And when Haman saw that Mordecai bowed not, nor did him reverence, then was Haman full of wrath. And he thought scorn to lay hands on Mordecai alone, for they had shewed him the people of Mordecai: wherefore Haman sought to destroy all the Jews that were throughout the whole kingdom of Ahasuerus …
Wonderful, I thought to myself sourly. Has anything changed since?
Mordecai gave the copy of the writing of the decree that was given to destroy the Jews, to show it unto Esther, to charge her that she should go in unto the king, to make supplication unto him, and to make request before him for her people … Esther spake, saying … All the king’s servants, and the people of the king’s provinces, do know, that whosoever, whether man or woman, shall come unto the king into the inner court, who is not called, there is one law of his to put him to death, except such to whom the king shall hold out the golden sceptre, that he may live … Then Mordecai commanded to answer
Esther, Think not with thyself that thou shalt escape in the king’s house, more than all the Jews … Who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this? Then Esther bade them return Mordecai this answer … So will I go in unto the king, which is not according to the law: and if I perish, I perish.
Fortunately, Esther succeeded in approaching the king without perishing.
Then said the king unto her, What wilt thou, queen Esther? and what is thy request? it shall be even given thee to the half of the kingdom. And Esther answered, If it seem good unto the king, let the king and Haman come this day unto the banquet that I have prepared for him.
A banquet? My detective instincts stirred. Was Haman to fall suddenly and strangely dead after drinking from a bejewelled goblet? No, I reminded myself sternly. This was not
Arabian Nights.
Haman was delighted at the invitation, to be sure, but he could not get over Mordecai’s lack of respect. His wife consoled him with the following suggestion:
Let a gallows be made of fifty cubits high, and tomorrow speak thou unto the king that Mordecai may be hanged thereon: then go thou in merrily with
the king unto the banquet. And the thing pleased Haman, and he caused the gallows to be made.
In the meantime, however, the king learnt of Mordecai’s good deeds on his behalf and asked Haman’s advice on how to honour such a one, but without naming him:
Haman came in. And the king said unto him, What shall be done unto the man whom the king delighteth to honour? Now Haman thought in his heart, To whom would the king delight to do honour more than to myself? And Haman answered the king, For the man whom the king delighteth to honour, let the royal apparel be brought, and the horse that the king rideth upon, and the crown royal which is set upon his head: and let this apparel and horse be delivered to the hand of one of the king’s most noble princes, that they may array the man withal whom the king delighteth to honour, and bring him on horseback through the street of the city, and proclaim before him, Thus shall it be done to the man whom the king delighteth to honour. Then the king said to Haman, Make haste, and take the apparel and the horse, as thou hast said, and do even to Mordecai the Jew, that sitteth at the king’s gate.
Once again the notion of murder flitted through my mind. But no. Haman obeyed the king and promenaded Mordecai safely through the streets of the city, returning home,
needless to say, in a foul mood, ‘mourning and having his head covered’, to be precise.
So the king and Haman came to banquet with Esther the queen. And the king said again unto Esther on the second day at the banquet of wine, What is thy petition, queen Esther? and it shall be granted thee: and what is thy request? and it shall be performed, even to the half of the kingdom. Then Esther the queen answered and said, If I have found favour in thy sight, O king, and if it please the king, let my life be given me at my petition, and my people at my request: For we are sold, I and my people, to be destroyed, to be slain, and to perish. Then the king Ahasuerus answered and said unto Esther the queen, Who is he, and where is he, that durst presume in his heart to do so? And Esther said, The adversary and enemy is this wicked Haman. Then Haman was afraid before the king and the queen.
So should I be in his place, indeed.
And the king arising from the banquet of wine in his wrath went into the palace garden: and Haman stood up to make request for his life to Esther the queen; for he saw that there was evil determined against him by the king. Then the king returned out of the palace garden into the place of the banquet of wine; and Haman was fallen upon the bed whereon Esther was.
Then said the king, Will he force the queen also before me in the house? As the word went out of the king’s mouth, they covered Haman’s face. And Harbonah, one of the chamberlains, said before the king, Behold also, the gallows fifty cubits high, which Haman had made for Mordecai, who had spoken good for the king, standeth in the house of Haman. Then the king said, Hang him thereon. So they hanged Haman on the gallows that he had prepared for Mordecai. Then was the king’s wrath pacified.
This part of the story reminded me of Grimm’s fairy tales. I remember various scenes in which evil stepmothers are asked how erring persons should be punished, only to find their precise recipes applied to their unwilling selves.
‘You can stop reading there,’ said David, who was peering over my shoulder, ‘that’s all the part that we celebrate today. There isn’t anything else about Esther after that.’ I glanced up at him as he spoke. He looked just a tiny fraction too hopeful.
‘I’m nearly at the end, I’ll finish it,’ I said firmly.
… The king granted the Jews which were in every city to gather themselves together, and to stand for their life, to destroy, to slay, and to cause to perish, all the power of the people and province that would assault them, both little ones and women, and to take the spoil of them for a prey, upon one day in all the provinces of king Ahasuerus, namely, upon
the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, which is the month Adar … Then the Jews had light, and gladness, and joy, and honour. And in every province, and in every city, whithersoever the king’s commandment and his decree came, the Jews had joy and gladness, a feast and a good day. And many of the people of the land became Jews; for the fear of the Jews fell upon them.
As well it might, before the fatal day had arrived. But can the Jews be blamed for a commandment which after all reveals more about the procedures of Ahasuerus than their own? And would they, after all, execute it?
Now in the twelfth month, on the thirteenth day of the same … the Jews gathered themselves together in their cities throughout all the provinces of the king Ahasuerus, to lay hand on such as sought their hurt: and no man could withstand them; for the fear of them fell upon all people. And all the rulers of the provinces, and the lieutenants, and the deputies, and officers of the king helped the Jews; because the fear of Mordecai fell upon them … Thus the Jews smote all their enemies with the stroke of the sword, and slaughter, and destruction, and did what they would unto those that hated them. And they kept the fourteenth day of the month Adar, and the fifteenth day of the same, yearly, as the days wherein the Jews rested from their enemies, and the month which
was turned unto them from sorrow to joy, and from mourning into a good day … Wherefore they called these days Purim, after the name of Pur, that is, the lot that had been cast to consume them and destroy them …
‘These things always seem to end with a triumphal slaughter on one side or the other,’ admitted David sadly.
‘It does alter one’s perception of the Jews as a victimised people,’ I said, remembering that Professor Taylor had once made the same remark. ‘After all, he who laughs last laughs best.’
‘Yet they – we – we are, we always have been a victimised people,’ he exclaimed passionately. ‘I don’t say this out of pride, I wish to God that it weren’t true. But the Bible tales that end this way do not disprove it; they are merely signs of a desperate optimism, the hope for triumph and survival, in the language of the time. The status of victim has no value for us – it has no value at all in our Bible. It was
your
Christ who created that notion: that the victim is to be honoured, that the last shall be first. We don’t have that notion to comfort ourselves in our misery. We have only constantly shattered dreams of victory and triumph over our oppressors. But there have been no such triumphs in living memory, and in much, much longer than that. Only the persecutions, the Inquisitions, the pogroms – and these ancient, legendary memories.’
There was no possible answer to this: he spoke the simple truth. I rolled up the scroll to the beginning and
tied it with its ribbon, thinking about Esther, imagining the struggle between her fear before the king and her fear for her people. I forgot altogether where I was, and jumped at the sound of the rickety door being pushed vigorously open.
‘Look at all that I’ve brought!’ rang out Rivka’s youthful voice, as she made her reappearance, her arms loaded with a big bundle of old garments in the middle of which nestled the baby, who was twisting a mass of gold-tinted tulle happily in his fat little hands.
‘I got some things for myself as well,’ she added. ‘And Sheyne said we can leave the babies with her when we go out. She won’t leave the house today.’
She laid her finds out upon the table. David immediately pounced upon a long, somewhat tattered black velvet dress of a loose and flowing cut.
‘She can’t go there with this rip,’ observed Rivka. ‘I’ll sew it up.’
‘Sew it up as best you can, and she can wear a shawl or something over it.’
‘I’ll lend you my silk one, and we’ll cover your hair with something pretty. Then you put this veil over everything; I took it on purpose. Eliel is quite attached to it, dear me, I do hope he’ll allow us to have it back.’
She tugged gently, but the baby tugged harder and looked stubborn.
‘Leave it,’ I laughed. ‘It’s too early, anyway. He’ll forget all about it later on.’
‘Yes, if only he doesn’t tear it. Sheyne wouldn’t like
that; I’ll need to give the things back this evening,’ she replied, eyeing the little tot suspiciously. But he showed no sign of tearing the veil, contenting himself with turning it and plucking at it delicately, and examining it with deep concentration for all the world like a tiny scientist.
Young Ephraim joined us for a convivial midday meal, during which I continued to ruminate over the best way to present my story, wondering if the whole thing were not completely absurd and unrealistic, and how on earth I seemed to continually find myself in such theatrical situations, something which had never happened to me in any of my previous cases.
‘David,’ I asked suddenly. ‘If I manage to explain the whole situation to the rabbi so that he understands it, how do you think he will actually answer me?’
‘It depends on what you ask him,’ he said. ‘I hope that he will give you an answer of some kind, but it may not be easy to understand. Rebbes speak in hints and parables. I wish I could tell you that he would just describe exactly what he saw in the library that day, but it is very unlikely to be so simple, especially before other people. In fact, I don’t advise you to ask him openly about the library or what he was doing there on that day. Remember how his absence was turned into a myth. Whatever he may say to you, no matter how mysterious and irrelevant it may sound to you, don’t dismiss it, study it. One thing is certain: he will not fob you off with an empty response.’
After lunch, Rivka and I donned our gowns and drapes, and the four of us sauntered out into the street together, the
babies in tow. I felt peculiar and slightly foolish, but put a good face on it, and quite soon forgot all about looking strange, as the streets were altogether full of people in all manner of disguises.
Children rushed about making tremendous rackets with wooden noisemakers, which they shook violently as they ran. Musicians passed with tambourines and flutes, and stopped in little groups to play melodies under windows or in open doorways. The weather was balmy and everyone was in a festive mood. Smells of delicious baking wafted from the kitchens. These smells, and their sources, a multitude of warm little baked pastries, were of particular efficaciousness in convincing Rivka’s two little boys to remain with the lady called Sheyne.
‘We needn’t be in any hurry,’ remarked David, ‘let’s take a roundabout way to the rebbe’s house, and see what’s happening in the streets.’
I was anxious to arrive at the rabbi’s house, but on the other hand, I wanted to blend in as well as possible with the typical behaviour on this special day, so I moved along with them, without saying anything, keeping my eyes open and watching everything about me.
I was by no means the only Esther upon the streets; I saw several others, garbed in varying degrees of finery, some of whom were obviously men. Each time two Esthers encountered each other, salutations were exchanged. We were surrounded on all sides by kings and queens, prime ministers, executioners, and evil Hamans with weird masks and three-cornered hats. Groups acted out the famous scenes
on some of the street corners, or entered people’s houses in order to give their tiny play; individuals strolled about, carrying harmonicas or accordions, and stopped to tell their stories in a sing-song voice, accompanying themselves with tunes. All were surrounded by groups of children, who at regular intervals burst unanimously into shrieks and vigorous agitation of their rattles and noisemakers.
‘They do it to cover the name of Haman every time it is pronounced,’ David explained to me as we passed a storyteller whose voice was drowned by a particularly loud commotion. ‘The children know exactly when his name is about to occur, and they make the racket just in time to pretend not to hear it.’