her own. The other guests accompanied her with a rhythmic handclap. My brother Emanuel smashed a bottle of orange juice in her honor. Then Yardena got up on a chair and, holding a full liqueur glass, sang a popular American song about disappointed love.
There is another incident I must record: At the end of the party my husband tried to deliver a surprise kiss on the back of my neck. He crept up on me from behind. Perhaps his fellow students had put the idea into his head. At that moment I happened to be holding a glass of wine which my brother had thrust into my hand. When Michael's lips touched my neck I jumped, and the wine was spilled on my white wedding dress. Some also fell on Aunt Jenia's brown suit. What is so important about this detail? Ever since the morning when my landlady, Mrs. Tarnopoler, had spoken to me after I cried out in my sleep I had been beset by hints and signs. Just like my father. My father was an attentive man. He went through life as if it were a preliminary course in which one learns a lesson and stores up experience.
10
A T THE END of the week my professor came up to me to congratulate me. It was in the lobby of Terra Sancta College, during the break in the middle of his weekly Mapu lecture. "Mrs....ah yes, Mrs. Gonen, I have just heard the good news and I must hasten to congratulate you on your, ah, nuptials. I sincerely hope that your home will be at once thoroughly Jewish and thoroughly, ah, enlightened. Having said which, I believe I have wished you every possible happiness. May I inquire as to the discipline of your thrice-fortunate bridegroom? Ah, geology! What a very symbolic conjunction of subjects. Both geology, on the one hand, and the study of literature, on the other, delve down into the depths, as it were, in quest of buried treasures. May I ask, Mrs. Gonen, whether you intend to continue with your present studies? Good, I am delighted. As you know, I take an almost paternal interest in the fortunes of my pupils."
My husband bought a large bookcase. He had few books as yet, some twenty or thirty volumes, but in time they would multiply. Michael envisaged a whole wall lined with books. In the meantime the bookcase was almost empty. I brought home from the kindergarten a few figures I had made from twisted wire and colored raffia, to make the empty shelves seem less bare. For the time being.
The hot water system broke down. Michael tried to mend it himself. When he was young, he said, he often used to mend taps for his father or his aunts. This time he failed. He may even have made the damage worse. The plumber was sent for. He was a good-looking North African boy, who managed to put the trouble right easily. Michael was ashamed of his failure. He stood sulking like a child. I enjoyed his discomfiture.
"What a charming young couple," said the plumber. "I won't charge you very much."
The first nights I could only get to sleep with the help of sleeping pills. When I was eight my brother had been given a bedroom of his own, and ever since then I had always slept alone. It seemed odd to me for Michael to close his eyes and go to sleep. I had never seen him asleep till we were married. He would pull the covers over his head and vanish. At times I had to remind myself that the rhythmic hissing sound was simply his breathing, and that from now on there was no man on earth closer to me than he. I tossed and turned till dawn in the second-hand double bed which we had bought for next to nothing from the previous occupants of the flat. The bed was heavily decorated with arabesque carvings, stained shiny brown. It was quite unnecessarily wide, like most old furniture. It was so wide that once I awoke and thought that Michael had got up and left. He was far away, wrapped in his cocoon. Almost tangibly they came to me at dawn. Came sensuous and violent. They appeared, dark and lithe and silent.
I had never wanted a wild man. What had I done to deserve this disappointment? When I was a girl
There is another incident I must record: At the end of the party my husband tried to deliver a surprise kiss on the back of my neck. He crept up on me from behind. Perhaps his fellow students had put the idea into his head. At that moment I happened to be holding a glass of wine which my brother had thrust into my hand. When Michael's lips touched my neck I jumped, and the wine was spilled on my white wedding dress. Some also fell on Aunt Jenia's brown suit. What is so important about this detail? Ever since the morning when my landlady, Mrs. Tarnopoler, had spoken to me after I cried out in my sleep I had been beset by hints and signs. Just like my father. My father was an attentive man. He went through life as if it were a preliminary course in which one learns a lesson and stores up experience.
10
A T THE END of the week my professor came up to me to congratulate me. It was in the lobby of Terra Sancta College, during the break in the middle of his weekly Mapu lecture. "Mrs....ah yes, Mrs. Gonen, I have just heard the good news and I must hasten to congratulate you on your, ah, nuptials. I sincerely hope that your home will be at once thoroughly Jewish and thoroughly, ah, enlightened. Having said which, I believe I have wished you every possible happiness. May I inquire as to the discipline of your thrice-fortunate bridegroom? Ah, geology! What a very symbolic conjunction of subjects. Both geology, on the one hand, and the study of literature, on the other, delve down into the depths, as it were, in quest of buried treasures. May I ask, Mrs. Gonen, whether you intend to continue with your present studies? Good, I am delighted. As you know, I take an almost paternal interest in the fortunes of my pupils."
My husband bought a large bookcase. He had few books as yet, some twenty or thirty volumes, but in time they would multiply. Michael envisaged a whole wall lined with books. In the meantime the bookcase was almost empty. I brought home from the kindergarten a few figures I had made from twisted wire and colored raffia, to make the empty shelves seem less bare. For the time being.
The hot water system broke down. Michael tried to mend it himself. When he was young, he said, he often used to mend taps for his father or his aunts. This time he failed. He may even have made the damage worse. The plumber was sent for. He was a good-looking North African boy, who managed to put the trouble right easily. Michael was ashamed of his failure. He stood sulking like a child. I enjoyed his discomfiture.
"What a charming young couple," said the plumber. "I won't charge you very much."
The first nights I could only get to sleep with the help of sleeping pills. When I was eight my brother had been given a bedroom of his own, and ever since then I had always slept alone. It seemed odd to me for Michael to close his eyes and go to sleep. I had never seen him asleep till we were married. He would pull the covers over his head and vanish. At times I had to remind myself that the rhythmic hissing sound was simply his breathing, and that from now on there was no man on earth closer to me than he. I tossed and turned till dawn in the second-hand double bed which we had bought for next to nothing from the previous occupants of the flat. The bed was heavily decorated with arabesque carvings, stained shiny brown. It was quite unnecessarily wide, like most old furniture. It was so wide that once I awoke and thought that Michael had got up and left. He was far away, wrapped in his cocoon. Almost tangibly they came to me at dawn. Came sensuous and violent. They appeared, dark and lithe and silent.
I had never wanted a wild man. What had I done to deserve this disappointment? When I was a girl