The Dybbuk and Other Writings by S. Ansky
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This volume presents The Dybbuk, S. Ansky's well-known drama of mystical passion and demonic possession, along with little-known works of his autobiographical and fantastical prose fiction and an excerpt from his four-volume chronicle of the Eastern Front in the First World War, The Destruction of Galacia.
allusions, how very difficult! (He counts the Torah scrolls) One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine scrolls … they add up to the numerical value of ernes, ‘truth.’ And every scroll has four wooden handles that we call the trees of life … again thirty-six! Not an hour goes by that I don’t come across that number. I don’t know what it means, but I feel that it contains the essence of the matter, the truth that I seek. Thirty-six is the numerical value of the letters in Leah’s name.
me to talk. We arrived at the hovel. Rogov went in, greeted Isakov, and silently examined the sick members of the family; then he interrogated the little girl. We learned from her that her mother used to wash laundry in people’s homes, that this was the fifth day that she was unconscious, that she had been sick for a long time but continued to work, that her brother had been lying ill for three days, and that no one came to see them because everyone had moved out of this area; not long ago the
derogatory manner. The congregants were outraged. His father fainted on the spot. People hurled themselves at the “heretic,” and he barely managed to escape the synagogue alive. He never returned home again. About two weeks later, several students were caught reading forbidden books and driven out of the yeshiva. Krantz tore into the place and slapped the rabbi, an old and revered teacher. He broke off all relations with his parents, apprenticed himself to a Russian locksmith, donned a red shirt,
of the tower. When this was done, the emperor with his courtiers and servants went to the tower, opened up the gate, and began to enter the tower. But when the emperor stepped over the threshold of the tower, the gate closed with a loud noise. None of those who had come with the emperor could enter, and he remained alone in the tower. He raised his eyes and saw before him a great garden in full bloom, like a Garden of Eden, with many trees pleasant to the sight and good for food.1 The emperor
to Sokol; when they saw the baron sitting in one of the ten carriages in his courtyard, ready to drive off, they pulled him out and threw him into the mud. Later on, when this officer saw the death notice of a well-known man with a Jewish name in a newspaper he was reading, he shouted out gleefully: “Another Jew dead. One less in the world, thank God.” Opposite him sat another Cossack officer, a doctor, who had not said a word until now: “Everyone attacks the Jews. What do they want from them?”