76
PARTISAN REVIEW
expeCla tion , at hi s ass istants. Not himself receiving any secret signs,
any enlightenment, any directives, he expected that these young and
naive men , just emerging from their cocoons might suddenly grasp the
meaning of his trade, which stubbornly evaded him . H e pes tered th em
with persistent ques tioning, but they, stupid and inarticul a te, avo ided
hi s looks, turned their eyes away, mumbling some confused nonsense.
In the mornings, using a walking stick for support, my father wan–
dered like a shepherd among hi s blind, woolly Aock , among the
bleating headl ess rumps crowded a round the drinking trough. He was
still waiting, postponing the moment when h e would have to move his
tribe and go out into the ni ght burdened with responsibility for that
swarm ing, homeless Israel. ...
The night behind the door was leaden-cl ose, without a breeze.
After a few steps it became impassa ble. One walked without moving
forward, as in a dream, and while one's feet stuck
to
the ground, one's
tho ughts continu ed to run forward endl essly, incessantl y questioning,
led as tra y by the dia lecti ca l byways of the night. The differential
calculus of the night continued. At last, one's feet sLOpped moving and
one stood riveted
to
the spot, a t the darkes t, mos t intima te corner of the
night , as in front of a privy, in dead silence, (or long hours, with a
feeling of blissful shame. Only thought, left to itself, slowly made an
abou t turn , th e compl ex ana tomy of the brai n unwound itse lf like a
reel and the abstract trea ti se o f the summer ni ght continued its
venomous di alectic, turning logical somersaults, inventing new so–
phi~ticated
questions
to
which there was no answer. Thus one debated
with oneself through the speculative vastness of the night and entered,
di sembodi ed, into ultimate nothingness.
It
was long after midnight when my fa th er abruptl y lifted hi s head
from his pile of papers. He stood up , full of self-importance, with
dilated eyes, listening intentl y.
" He is coming," he said with a radiant face, "open the door. "
Almost before Theodore, the senior ass istant, could open the glass
door, which had been bolted for the night, a man had already squeezed
himself in , loaded with bundl es, bl ack-h a ired, bearded, sp lendid and
sm iling: the long awa ited gues t. Mr. Jacob, deeply moved, hurried
to
greet him, bow ing, both hi s hands outstretched in greeting. They
embraced.
It
seemed for a moment as if the black shining eng ine o f a
train had voiceless ly driven up to the very door of the shop. A poner in
a ra ilwayman 's ha t came in ca rrying an enormous trunk on his back.
We never learned who this distinguished visitor rea ll y was. Theo–
dore fIrmly mainta ined tha t he was Christian Seipel &Sons (Sp inners
