Read Tevye the Dairyman and the Railroad Stories Online
Authors: Sholem Aleichem
Tags: #Fiction, #Short Stories (Single Author)
“Well, hello there! I recognized you through the window. I have regards for you from your Uncle Zalman in Manestrishtch …”
Needless to say, the young man made his exit at the same station and the pretty young thing was left sitting all by herself. But that’s not the end of the story. The mademoiselle—she must have been a Christian, because otherwise why would our Don Juan have made such a hasty getaway?—began to collect her things a few stations later and prepared to leave the train too, still without having said a word to me, or even so much as glanced in my direction. It was as if I didn’t exist. Yet waiting for her on the platform at the stop where she got off were—a patriarchal Jew with a beard as long as Father Abraham’s and a Jewess with a wig and two huge diamonds in her ears. “Riva darling!” the old couple called out, and fell upon their daughter with tears in their eyes …
No commentary is necessary. I simply wanted to introduce you to some of the types who travel second class and to persuade you not to go that way yourself, because even among your own, you’re always a stranger there.
When you travel third class, on the other hand, you feel right at home. In fact, if you happen to be in a car whose passengers are exclusively Jews, you may feel a bit too much at home. Granted, third class is not the height of luxury; if you don’t use your elbows,
you’ll never find a seat; the noise level, the sheer hubbub, is earsplitting; you can never be sure where you end and where your neighbors begin … and yet there’s no denying that that’s an excellent way to meet them. Everyone knows who you are, where you’re bound for, and what you do, and you know the same about everyone. At night you can save yourself the bother of having to fall asleep, because there’s always someone to talk to—and if you’re not in the mood to talk, someone else will be glad to do it for you. Who expects to sleep on a train ride anyway? Talking is far better, because you never know what may come of it. I should only live another year of my life for each time I’ve seen perfect strangers on the train end up by making a business deal, arranging a match for their children, or learning something worth knowing from each other.
For instance, all the talk you hear about doctors, indigestion, sanatoriums, toothaches, nervous conditions, Karlsbad, and so forth—you’d think it was all just a lot of malarkey, wouldn’t you? Well, let me tell you a story about that. Once I was traveling with a group of Jews. We were talking about doctors and prescriptions. At the time, it shouldn’t happen to you, I was having problems with my stomach, and a fellow passenger, a Jew from Kamenetz, recommended a medicine that came in the form of a powder. It so happened, said the Jew, that he had been given this powder by a dentist rather than a doctor, but the powder, which was yellow, was absolutely first-rate. That is, it wasn’t yellow, it was white, like all powders; but it came in a yellow wrapper. He even swore to me by everything that was holy, the Jew did, that he owed his life to the yellow powder, because without it—no, he didn’t even want to think of it! And I didn’t need to use a whole lot, either. Two or three grains, he said, would make me feel like a new man; no more stomachaches, and no more money-grubbing, bloodsucking physicians; I could say to hell with every one of the damn quacks! “If you’d like,” he said, “I can give you two or three grains of my yellow powder right now. You’ll never stop thanking me …”
And that’s what he did. I came home, I took one, two, three grains of the stuff, and after a while—it didn’t happen at once, but later on, in the middle of the night—I had such pains that I thought I was kicking the bucket. I swear, I was sure I was on my last gasp! A doctor was called, and then another—it was all they could do to bring me back from death’s door … Well, now I
know that if a Jew from Kamenetz tries giving you a yellow powder, you should tell him to take a powder himself. Every lesson has its price.
When you go third class and wake up in the morning to discover that you’ve left your
tefillin and your prayer shawl at home, there isn’t any cause for alarm—you only need to ask and you’ll be given someone else’s, along with whatever else you require. All that’s expected of you in return, once you’re done praying, is to open your suitcase and display your own wares. Vodka, cake, a hard-boiled egg, a drumstick, a piece of fish—it’s all grist for the mill. Perhaps you have an apple, an orange, a piece of Strudel? Out with it, no need to be ashamed! Everyone will be glad to share it with you, no one stands on ceremony here. A train ride and good company, you understand, are two things that create an appetite … And of course, if you happen to have a wee bit of wine with you, there’s no lack of volunteer tasters, each with his own verdict and name for it. “It’s a Bessarabian muscat,” says one. “No, it’s an imported Akerman,” says another. “What kind of muscat?” says a third, getting angrily to his feet. “What kind of Akerman? Can’t you tell it’s a Koveshaner Bordeaux?” At which point a fourth fellow rises from his corner with the smile of a true connoisseur, accepts the glass of wine with an expression that says, “Stand back, you duffers, this calls for an expert,” takes a few sips, and pronounces, his cheeks flushed a merrymaker’s red:
“Jews, do you know what this is? No, I can see that you don’t. It’s neither more nor less than a pure, simple, honest, no-nonsense, homemade Berdichev
kiddush wine!”
And everyone realizes that the man is right, a Berdichev kiddush wine it is. And since quite a few tongues have been loosened by the time the wine has made its rounds, suddenly everyone is telling everybody everything, and everything is being told to everyone. The whole car is talking together at once in a splendid show of Jewish solidarity. Before long each of us not only knows all about the others’ troubles, he knows about every trial and tribulation that ever befell a Jew anywhere. It’s enough to warm the cockles of your heart!
When you travel third class and arrive in some town and don’t know where to stay, you have a car full of Jews to help you out. In fact, the number of different places recommended will tally exactly with the number of Jews in the car. “The Hotel Frankfurt,”
says one of them, singing the praises of his choice. “It’s bright and it’s cheery, it’s clean and it’s breezy, it’s the biggest bargain in town.” “The Hotel Frankfurt?” exclaims someone else. “God forbid! It’s dark and it’s dreary, it’s sordid and sleazy, it’s the biggest gyp joint around. If you really want to enjoy yourself, I suggest you try the Hotel New York.” “The only reason I can think of for staying in the New York,” puts in another traveler, “is that you’re homesick for bedbugs. Here, hand me your bag and come with me to my favorite, the Hotel Russia. It’s the only place for a Jew!”
Of course, having given him your bag you had better keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t make off with it … but I ask you, where in this wonderful world of ours aren’t there thieves nowadays? Either you’re fated to meet up with one or you’re not. If it’s in your crystal ball to be robbed, you can be cleaned out in broad daylight, and no amount of prayers or policemen will make the slightest difference. If anything, you’ll thank your lucky stars that you got away with your life …
In a word, go third class. Those are the parting words to you of a good friend and a practical man, a commercial traveler.
Adieu!
(1902)
Entries in this glossary appear in the same order as in the text, according to page number. Included are translations, source attributions, and when necessary, explications of Tevye’s Hebrew quotations and of those made by the narrator of “Burned Out”; explanations of Jewish customs that may not be familiar to the general reader; and identifications of historical personages and events mentioned in
Tevye
and
The Railroad Stories
. Glossarized words, phrases, and names appearing more than once in the volume are generally cross-referenced—unless they occur in the same chapter or story, in which case they are listed only once. English translations of Biblical quotations use the King James text, with occasional emendations to suit the context. Translations of other Hebrew sources are my own. In the case of fragmentary quotations from the Bible, the prayer book, etc., the English translation often includes the entire verse or passage from which these are taken; in such instances, the English words that correspond to the Hebrew fragment in the text appear in italics. Quotations not translated in the glossary have already been translated in the text itself.
As mentioned in the Introduction, Tevye’s Hebrew is transliterated here according to the East European pronunciation. Readers wishing to pronounce it as he did should follow these rules:
“Kh” is a guttural pronounced like the “ch” in “Bach” or the Scottish “loch.” (In proper names like Chava or Menachem Mendl, the “ch” is pronounced in the same way.)
“Oy” is as in “boy.”
“Ey” is as in “grey.”
“Ai” and “ay” are like “ie” in “pie.”
“O” and “oh” are like “aw” in “law.”
“I” is like “ee” in “seen.”
“U” is like “oo” in “boot.”
“A” is as in “father.”
“E” and “eh” are as in “get.”
In multisyllabic words, the next-to-last syllable is generally stressed.
Tevye the Dairyman
PAGE
1
Revakh vehatsoloh ya’amoyd layehudim
—“For if thou holdest thy peace at this time,
then shall enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews
from another place”; Esther, 4:14.
2
Shavuos—Shavuoth or Pentecost, a two-day holiday in late spring commemorating the giving of the Torah.
3
Rashi—The acronymic name of Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki of Troyes (1040–1105), whose popular commentary on the Bible is commonly read by observant Jews on the Sabbath in the course of reviewing the weekly portion from the Pentateuch.
4
Targum—The first-century Aramaic translation of the Bible by Onkelos the Proselyte that, like the commentary of Rashi, is traditionally studied with the weekly Torah reading.
5
Perek—The Mishnaic tractate of
Pirkey Avot, The Ethics of the Fathers
. (See
this page
.)
6
Zon umefarneys lakoyl
—“For He is a God
who nourishes and supports all life”;
from the grace regularly recited after meals.
7
Mi yorum umi yishofeyl
—“Who shall be raised up and who shall be brought low”; from the
unesaneh toykef
prayer on the High Holy Days, in which God is described as deciding the fates of everyone for the coming year. In the prayer book the phrase occurs as
mi yishofeyl umi yorum
, “who shall be brought low and who shall be raised up.”
8
Atoh bekhartonu
—“For
Thou hast chosen us
among all the nations”; from the holiday prayer book.
9
Vayehi hayoym
—“And it came to pass”; a common Biblical phrase introducing a new story or episode in a narrative.
10
Shimenesre
—The “eighteen benedictions,” a lengthy devotion recited as part of the morning, afternoon, and evening prayers and structured around nineteen (originally eighteen) blessings, the first of which begins, “Blessed art Thou, O Lord, our God and God of our fathers, God of Abraham, God of Isaac, and God of Jacob.” When praying by himself, a Jew says the
shimenesre
silently and without moving from his place—which only heightens the comedy of Tevye’s shouting the prayer out loud while running after his horse.
11
Mekhalkeyl khayim bekhesed
—From the second benediction of
the shimenesre
, as is
umekayeym emunosoy lisheyney ofor
.
12
Re’ey-no be’onyeynu
—From the seventh benediction.
13
Refo’eynu veneyrofey
—From the eighth benediction.
14
Boreykh oleynu
—From the ninth benediction.
15
Velamahhinim al tehi tikvoh
—From the twelfth benediction.
16
Ov harakhamon
—From the sixteenth benediction.
17
Shma koyleynu
—“Hearken to our voice”; from the sixteenth benediction.