The Complete Works of Isaac Babel Reprint Edition by Isaac Babel, Nathalie Babel, Peter Constantine (106 page)

27. Ratkovich bangs against the roof with the pole. A womans hand grabs the pole, and out of the shed comes Rachel Monko, the seventeen-year-old daughter of the belfer, the assistant to the melamed at the Hebrew school. The cloak covers her face and body.

28. Rachel uncovers her face and rushes to Ratkovich. Her lips reach for his lips, but at that very moment the girl stops in her tracks. There are tears in her eyes. She looks at the young man with unusual tenderness.

29. “IS IT DECIDED, LEV?”

30. Ratkovich takes Rachels slender hand in his. Their hands tremble—it is a lingering, nervous, unstoppable trembling.

31. The stream of milk slowly twists its way along the dirt floor of the shed.

32. Ratkovich bends toward Rachel. He says:

33. “IT IS DECIDED.... I WILL GO ABROAD WITH OTS-MAKH. HE WILL STAGE HIS TRAGEDIES, AND I SHALL BE THE SOLO VIOLINIST IN THE ORCHESTRA AND IN TWO YEARS, RACHEL, YOU AND I

WILL GET MARRIED!”

34. Ratkovich and Rachels faces come closer. Their eyes are closed, their eyelids quiver. They approach one another, but again they stop: the agonizing game of young men and women before their first kiss. Ratkovich awkwardly presses his lips against Rachels cheek. Her eyes, wide open and fixed, look to the side, and tears flow down her happy face. Ratkovich moves his lips closer and closer to her mouth. The violin falls out of his hands. Rachel stands rigid, she doesn’t move. He kisses her lips. Rachel smiles, shudders, and suddenly embraces him with all her might.

35. The violin is lying on the ground. The stream of milk slowly flows around it.

36. The first kiss. The cow thrusts her short muzzle out of the shed and licks the lovers with her long tongue. CUT

37. The steppe, the moon. A high-framed cart, draped with torn rags, stands by a bluff. This cart is in fact a covered wagon from a gypsy camp. A driver is slumbering on the wagon box. In his sleep he furiously scratches himself, twists his legs, and scrapes his back against the leather hood of his wagon.

38. The sky. Full moon. The clear light of the moon. Swanlike clouds float slowly by.

39. Far in the background, near the horizon, the running figures of Ratkovich and Rachel.

40. The driver scratches himself furiously, but doesn’t wake up. One of his violent movements almost capsizes the wagon. The lively face of an old woman appears between the rags.

41. “WHAT’S GOING ON, MEYER?”

42. The driver wakes up, and turns his imperturbable face to the old woman.

43. “NOTHING, FLEAS!”

44. The glistening face of the moon.

45. The river. Strips of moon on the water.

46. Ratkovich and Rachel stand on a bluff overlooking the river. Their arms are stiff and shivering. Ratkovich is pressing his violin to his chest. The lovers walk off in different directions. First they tread warily, slowly, then more quickly, then they run as fast as they can.

47. The wagon. The sleeping driver.

48. Panting, Ratkovich approaches the wagon. He throws his violin onto a bundle of rags and, exhausted, climbs into the wagon. The old woman nudges the dozing driver in the back.

49. “LET’S GO, MEYER!”

50. The driver raises his whip over the impassive horses. They don’t move. Then he wallops each of them over the tail, and they begin galloping. The wagon rattles over rocks and stones down the slope toward the glistening river.

51. Deep inside the wagon Ratkovich and the old woman huddle close together. He gives her the bundle of banknotes. The old woman’s kerchief slips off, revealing the bald head and expressive

face of Otsmakh, a Jewish vaudeville actor. Otsmakh hoists up a whole series of frocks and petticoats he is wearing, unfastens his bloomers rather indecently, and tucks the money into little pouches sewn into his drawers. He rearranges his frocks, and blissfully cuddles up to Ratkovichs shoulder.

52. The horses cross the river, going deeper and deeper into the water. The moonlight lies on the waves. Meyer stands upright on the wagon box, the horses wade up to their stomachs in the shining, seething water. Otsmakh, frightened, crawls to the very top of the wagon. With one hand he is holding on to Meyer, with the other he is clutching the money pouches in his bloomers. His face shows an excessive amount of fear. The river becomes deeper and deeper.

53. The steppe. Rachel stands on the precipice. Far in the distance, the wagon is rolling out onto the opposite bank of the river.

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54. OTSMAKH TRANSFORMS HIMSELF INTO A TRAGIC ACTOR.

55. A mirror. Over the mirror, an electric lamp. The powerfully lit face of Otsmakh. He is making up his face. The makeup: a long gray beard parted in two like a majordomo s beard, low-hanging bushy eyebrows, cheeks covered in rouge, on his ears gigantic fake earrings, on his head a powdered wig of the kind worn at the French court in the eighteenth century.

56. KING LEAR, FROM SHAKESPEARE TO ... OTSMAKH!

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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