Various - "Roumanian Fairy Tales"

A. C. Laut - "Lords of the North"

Charles Bennett - "The Frog Who Would A Wooing Go"

E. Nesbit - "The Incomplete Amorist"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Rabbi and Priest

M >> Milton Goldsmith >> Rabbi and Priest




The men twined and twisted about each other, swayed to and fro in their
endeavor to gain the mastery, while the crowd, forgetting its own
passions, formed a circle about them, applauding now the one, now the
other.

Meanwhile Joseph had raised the helpless form of his betrothed from the
ground and endeavored to carry her through the mob. A score of brawny
arms barred the way.

Fear for his beloved gave the young man almost superhuman strength.
Seizing in his right hand a cudgel which was lying on the ground, while
his left arm still supported Kathinka, he hewed a passage through the
ranks. Eight men lay sprawling upon the ground and their companions
retreated before the telling blows of Joseph's club. When he found
himself unembarrassed by the rioters, he lifted Kathinka in both his
arms and ran as fast as his feet would bear him to his father's house,
which, having already been attacked, he hoped would escape a second
visit.

The combat between Loris and Mikail was short. The priest labored under
a manifest disadvantage in being crippled in one arm, while Loris,
driven to desperation by seeing Kathinka carried off, gathered all his
strength and with a mighty blow hurled the monk to the ground. There was
a dull crash. The priest's head had struck the pavement with such force
that his skull was crushed and a crimson stream of blood gushed from his
lips and nostrils, his body quivered, his maimed arm fell heavily at
his side. Mikail, the Jew-hater, had ceased to exist.

For a moment Loris was dazed and conscience-stricken. To kill a priest
was a serious crime. Moreover, that priest had been his father's friend
and favorite adviser, and Loris had much to fear from parental wrath.
The mischief was done, however, and bestowing upon the dead body a
parting glance of ineffable hatred, he set to work to reunite his
scattered band.

The outrages in the Jewish quarter had been duly reported to the
Governor, who shrugged his shoulders, rubbed his palms and smiled with
secret satisfaction.

"Revenge is sweet," he muttered, and he placed himself at the window,
where he could witness the burning of the houses.

About noon the body of Mikail was carried past the palace to the
Petcherskoi convent, and at the same time exaggerated accounts reached
Drentell's ears of the dangers to which his beloved son had been
exposed.

"It is time to put an end to the attack," thought the Governor, and
another detachment of soldiers was sent out to assist the first in
quelling the riot and to arrest all disorderly persons found upon the
streets. This order was vigorously enforced. About two thousand people
were made prisoners, nearly half of them Jews, arrested for protecting
their lives and property.

The scenes in the Jewish quarter at the close of the riot, beggar
description. Dust and feathers filled the air, for one of the mob's
chief amusements consisted in tearing open feather-beds and pillows and
scattering their contents. Broken furniture, dishes and stoves strewed
the pavements. Not a pane of glass or door was left entire. It was as
though an army had invaded the place. Nearly three thousand Israelites
were without shelter, their houses having been burned or otherwise
demolished. Many hundreds more were reduced to poverty, having been
despoiled of everything. The destruction of human life was appalling,
many corpses being recovered from the river, days after the occurrence;
and the number of people who were driven to insanity by the atrocities
committed will probably never be known.[22]

Rabbi Winenki, who had received a dangerous wound, recovered slowly. His
grief at the apparently hopeless insanity of his wife and the death of
his father were indescribable; they were in a slight measure mitigated
by the knowledge that his daughter had been spared the barbarous fate
that had befallen so many of Israel's women.




CHAPTER XXXVI.

WHAT THE PRIEST HAD ACCOMPLISHED.


The horrible crimes which have been described in preceding chapters were
insignificant compared with those to be committed. Mikail the priest,
the Jew-hater, was dead, but the evil of which he had been the author,
lived after him. His ghost stalked through the Empire, converting it
into one vast charnel-house.

Simultaneously with the riots in Kief, there were outbreaks in every
town and village throughout the province. At Browary, the synagogue in
which the terrified people had congregated was attacked and destroyed.
The mob attacked the Jewesses, and assaulted many of them. Three of the
poor victims died and a number of others found their only escape in the
river.

Scenes like these occurred daily throughout Southern Russia. Whole towns
and districts were ablaze with riot and violence. The story that the
Czar had handed Jewish property over to his Catholic subjects spread
upon the breath of the wind, and the populace was not slow to
appropriate its new possessions. The Governors of the various provinces
looked on with folded arms at the barbarities enacted under their eyes.
Occasionally the pleadings of the poor Jews appeared to prevail and the
military was called out; but it was not to protect the Hebrews, but to
prevent them from defending themselves.

The riots were invariably announced for days, often weeks, beforehand,
the police frequently stimulating the people to hatred and violence.

The municipalities, with the consent of the provincial government, had
taken every means to add to the misery of the situation. Mikail's book,
"The Annihilation of the Jews," became the bible of the fanatical
masses. Its sentences were distorted and exaggerated and then read to
the intoxicated wretches at the village _kretschmas_. Petitions were
circulated in the provinces to devise means to drive the Jews out of the
towns in which they had no legal right to live. In other places where no
such restrictions existed, petitions were sent to the authorities
requesting the adoption of measures to prevent the increase of Jewish
residents.

At Kief, the day after the riot, Governor Drentell called an assembly of
his counsellors to form a plan for expelling the Jews. Old documents
were unearthed and a rigid scrutiny instituted to discover what were
the restrictions upon the Jewish population of the city. The laws
enacted under the tyrannical reign of Nicholas were examined and the
discovery was made that nine thousand of the Jews in Kief had no legal
right to live there. For twenty years these laws had slumbered
unenforced. With a cruelty without parallel in the history of the world,
Drentell determined to enforce these ancient edicts and to expel all
Jews in excess of the legal number.

The Jews were accordingly notified that before August the number in
excess of the lawful population would be expected to seek another
domicile.

Wailing and lamentations broke out afresh in Israel. Many families did
not possess the means of departing, having lost everything in the recent
attacks. Others did not know in what direction to turn their weary
steps, for persecutions were reported all through Russia and in Germany
as well. Others again mourned at the thought of leaving behind them aged
relatives, beloved friends, the graves of their cherished dead and the
thousand memories that hallowed their old homes.

In their extremity, the Jews again petitioned the Governor to temper his
authority with mercy, and one of Drentell's counsellors, moved by the
piteous appeal, recommended leniency in dealing with the stricken race.

"Gentlemen," replied Drentell, rising in anger; "either I or the Jews
must go! Russia is not large enough for both. I insist upon a strict
enforcement of these regulations."

The Governor's word prevailed. By the beginning of July, over eight
thousand Jews had been expelled from Kief alone.

It was a sultry day towards the end of June. The air was unusually
oppressive, the reapers in the fields moved listlessly under the
scorching sun, the leaves on the trees were motionless and the birds had
ceased their warbling.

The Jewish quarter was quiet, almost deserted. A pall hung over the
dismal homes; there were no children in the streets to stir the air with
their merry voices. As men passed each other their greetings were short
and formal; they scarcely stopped to bid each other good-day. The entire
Jewish population was in mourning. Hearts were bleeding for some
departed soul cut off in the midst of life by the lawless mob, or
throbbing with suppressed sorrow at the enforced departure of relatives
or friends for the distant shores of America.

One by one a number of our old acquaintances and some of their friends
entered the dwelling of Rabbi Winenki, glancing furtively behind them as
though in fear of being watched. In the Rabbi's house there was some
show of festivity, although the attempt was half-hearted and conveyed an
impression far from joyous.

It was the long anticipated wedding day of Kathinka and Joseph. All
their bright prospects and pleasant anticipations of a professional life
at home were at an end. Their one desire was to be married before
seeking a new existence in America. The guests spoke in subdued voices,
as though fearful of exciting the animosity of their gentile neighbors.

Rabbi Mendel, who had but recently risen from a bed of pain, was wan and
pale; his tall and stately form had shrunk, his massive head was bowed,
his raven locks had become gray.

Quietly and without ostentation, the good man performed the ceremony
according to the Jewish rites. The ring was given, the glass broken, the
blessings pronounced, and the couple stood hand in hand to receive the
congratulations of their assembled friends. Smiles and merry laughter
gave way to tears and sobs. It was a touching spectacle! The young
couple were to remain in Kief until the following Sunday, and then, with
two thousand other unfortunates, to leave the place in which they had
lived and loved, prospered and suffered.

On the Sabbath, the synagogue was crowded; for many of the worshippers
it would be the last service they would attend in their native land.
Tearful and heartfelt were the prayers that ascended to Jehovah's
throne. The service for the dead was as impressive as scalding tears and
broken hearts could make it. Mendel ascended the pulpit, that place from
which he had so often instructed his people in wisdom and godliness, and
with streaming eyes bid the wanderers farewell.

He spoke briefly but impressively, concluding by giving them much good
advice as to their conduct in their new homes in America.

"Lead irreproachable lives," he said. "And remember one thing more:
stoop not to deceit or to crime. In America, as in Russia, every evil
act of the individual Jew will rebound upon the entire race. If the
gentile sins, he alone bears the brunt of the punishment. If a Jew
transgresses the law of the land, his religion is heralded to the world
and the wrong he has committed brings odium upon the entire household of
Israel. It has been so in the past, it will continue so for generations
to come. Does not this admonish you to avoid evil, to make your conduct
exemplary, and to be models of virtue and righteousness?"

While the Rabbi was speaking, it seemed as though an angel of comfort
and hope had entered the holy place. Tears were dried and the
unfortunates whose destiny was hurrying them far from all that earth
held dear, no longer dreaded the approaching journey.

The rest of that memorable Sabbath was spent in bidding farewell to
friends and relatives. There was grief in every household.

We have seen how Mordecai Winenki perished, a victim of the infuriated
mob. His wife, Leah, died a short time afterward, broken-hearted at the
separation from her life-long companion. Hirsch Bensef and his wife
declared they were too old to brave the rigors of a journey to America,
and, though broken in spirit as well as in fortune, they preferred to
remain in Kief. The Rabbi would have gladly accompanied his daughter to
the New World, but devotion to duty bound him to his old home. The
Kiersons accompanied their son and his bride upon their long voyage. The
refugees who left Kief consisted chiefly of the poorer classes, who,
being without means, were assisted by their more fortunate
co-religionists to emigrate. There were many sturdy young people among
the group, who, like Joseph Kierson and his wife, hoped for better
opportunities than were possible in their own intolerant land. The
wealthier classes, those who still had important mercantile interests in
Russia, as a rule, remained at home, in expectation of a speedy end of
the persecutions.

On the next day a sad and sorrowful procession moved slowly out of Kief.
They were accompanied part of the way by grieving friends, and trudged
bravely along on foot to Brody, on the Austrian frontier, where they
arrived after many days, foot-sore and weary. A pitiful state of affairs
confronted them here. Nearly six thousand refugees from Russian villages
had assembled in Brody and were in a completely helpless state. Huddled
in cellars, stowed away in sheds, in boxes, under lumber, lay the
unfortunate people, many of whom but a few weeks before had been rich
and prosperous. The travellers from Kief did what they could to mitigate
the horrible condition of these wretches, but the trouble was of such
magnitude that they could do little to relieve it.

On to Hamburg went our friends, on foot, in wagons, or by rail, as their
means warranted; on to Hamburg, there to take ship for the haven of
their hopes, the free and hospitable shores of America.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 22: For the corroboration of these facts, see the account of
the _London Times_ special correspondent; also, Mr. Evarts' speech
delivered in Chickering Hall, New York, in March, 1882.]




CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE LAND OF THE FREE.


A letter from Kathinka Kierson to her father:

JULY 1, 1887.

DEAR FATHER:--We grieved and rejoiced on the receipt of your
last letter: grieved that the Jews of Russia are still smarting under
the lash of persecution, that outbreaks of intolerance still continue;
and we rejoice to learn that dear mother has almost entirely recovered
her reason. We trust that her cure will be permanent, and that the
evening of your life will be as happy as you so richly deserve. It is
truly as you so often said: "Sorrow is essential in bringing out the
best there is in man." As a severe storm in nature purifies the elements
and the earth, reviving the plants, clarifying the air, causing the sun
to shine more gloriously, so, too, do the storms which beset the soul
and wring from it its groans and sighs, purify the spiritual man and
place him nearer to the throne of his Maker. I cannot but thank the
Lord, when I contrast our present position with what would have been our
lot had we remained in Kief. I know we have been favored by a kind
Providence above many of our fellow-refugees, and we do not forget to
thank God for his blessings.

After the trials we experienced on coming to America, the desperate
struggle with poverty, the difficulties Joseph experienced in securing
work, the drifting from city to city in hopes of bettering our
condition, and the reverses which almost drove us to despair, the sun of
prosperity is at length beginning to shine for us. Our experience is but
another illustration of the adage, that "opportunities come to him who
seeks them."

It is now nearly a year since a combination of circumstances brought us
to Chicago. I have already written how Joseph obtained employment in a
large furniture factory, and by indomitable energy and close attention
to business, worked his way up from a simple laborer to be the overseer
of the entire works. I now have more good news for you, news which your
kind heart will be glad to hear.

About six months ago we met an old gentleman, named Pesach Harretzki,
or, as he calls himself, Philip Harris. He is a large manufacturer of
cloth, and had business transactions with the factory in which Joseph
was employed. When he heard that my husband was from Kief, he evinced
the liveliest interest and eagerly inquired after the welfare of a man
whom he remembered as a boy of fourteen, one Mendel Winenki. When Joseph
told him that he had married the daughter of Rabbi Winenki, Mr. Harris
could scarcely restrain his impatience until he saw me. He called at our
home that same evening and whiled away the time with anecdotes of you,
dear father. He told us how ambitious you were to study, and that he
gave you the first German books you ever possessed. He said that his
conscience frequently smote him when he thought of the terrible risk to
which he had exposed you in giving you those books. Altogether, he is a
most agreeable man, and, having known you as a boy, he naturally took a
paternal interest in me. One day he made Joseph a tempting offer to take
a position in his factory. He was getting old, he said, and needed a
young assistant upon whom he could rely. Joseph at once accepted and
entered Mr. Harris' employ. My husband has a wonderful mind. I would not
tell him so to his face, for fear of making him vain, but he is
undoubtedly a genius. He had been in his new position scarcely a month
before he had so revolutionized and improved upon the hitherto neglected
establishment that the business of the house increased materially.
Yesterday, Mr. Harris offered to take him into partnership with him,
and, as he is getting old and is very wealthy, the probabilities are
that he will eventually retire and leave the business entirely in
Joseph's hands. We are, therefore, on the high road to prosperity.

And now, dear father, we have but one desire, namely, to have you with
us. Leave your onerous duties in Kief, take passage in a good vessel for
mother and yourself, and spend the remainder of your life with us in
contentment and peace. You need not pass your time in idleness. There
are many of our countrymen here and your talents will be appreciated in
America as well as in Kief. Joseph unites with me in hoping that you
will not decline our invitation.

It will interest you to learn that David Kierson and his wife are
prominent members of the Hebrew colony at Vineland, New Jersey, founded
by a number of benevolent Jews of Philadelphia. They are prospering and
happy. Both the children are well and send their kisses to you and
mother. Little Mordecai (we call him Morris, as it sounds more American)
is a very bright little fellow, with more questions in an hour than I
can answer in a day. Will he ever resemble his grandfather?




CHAPTER XXXVIII.


Letter from Rabbi Mendel Winenki to his daughter:

KIEF, August 16, 1887.

I cannot attempt, my dear children, to describe the feelings of joy and
gratitude with which I read your letter. God be praised for his love and
goodness. I will write to Pesach Harretzki at once. Whatever I am or
have been I owe to the inspiration of those two books he gave me.

I am sorry to disappoint you, my dear ones, by not accepting your
invitation to come to America.

I have a great and holy duty to perform in my native land. The misery
here is acute, active persecution still continues, the poverty of our
people increases every day, and with such misfortunes they would fast
fall into mental and moral stupor were there not some one constantly
with them to cheer and instruct them. My mission, while difficult, is a
glorious one. I have not an idle moment. I must visit the sick, console
the bereaved, assist the poor, instruct the ignorant and sympathize with
the unfortunate. By my own example I must seek to inculcate such moral
lessons as will tend to elevate them above the condition into which
their misfortunes might degrade them. To desert my post at such a time
would be cowardly.

Moreover, your mother, while sufficiently well to resume her household
duties, is still suffering, is often melancholy and requires constant
attention. In the company of her old friends and associates she may
entirely recover, but removed to a strange land, among a strange people,
she might suffer a relapse. No, believe me, my children, I am happier
here than I could be in America.

Over a thousand of our towns-people will emigrate this week. Under the
new laws, which deprive us of every right and liberty, these
unfortunates find it impossible to live at home and are bound for the
promising land of America. Should any of them find their way to your
city, receive them cordially, for "all Israel is one family." In your
prosperity forget not those who are less fortunate than you, and give
praise to the Lord for the blessings he has bestowed upon you.

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