England, Northern -- Fiction; Fathers and sons -- Fiction; Jews -- Fiction
For the Jewish mind the prayer is invested with extreme sanctity. The
birth of a son conveys to his father and mother immediately the glad
tidings of "Thank God! a _kaddish_ for our souls!" In a precisely
similar manner to the purchase of a mass and for precisely similar
reasons, a _kaddish_, by a childless man and woman, will be bought for
money. There are, indeed, old men who shuffle about the dark spaces of
a synagogue, whose main livelihood is the recital, at a stated rate, of
the prayer. But, it is needless to insist, the commercial commodity is
held to possess by no means the same efficacy as the consanguineous
_kaddish_. Dereliction of duty in this matter is held to be a flagrant
betrayal of the dead. The image is held before the culprit's eye of
the body attempting to shake free from its bondage of worms and mud,
and for lack of intercession before the throne of God, enchained
cruelly within the narrow territory of the coffin.
The state in which Philip had endured the climax of his mother's
illness, her death and funeral, had involved, it has been evident, less
a storm of suffering than a trance, a deadly level of hysteria. When
he returned from Angel Street to Longton, he seemed to lose his faculty
for quick reaction, for poignant contrition or grief. His mind
reduplicated the sooty autumn which spread like a web about the city,
entrapping the last evidences of summer and leaving them to hang
bedraggled like sucked flies.
Whether or no, for one who had at least made such pretensions of
affection towards his dead mother, he ought, from the point of view of
an abstract decency, to have persisted with the prayer to which she
herself had attached such importance, it is not easy to decide. It is
possible that had he recited the _kaddish_ in a language he understood,
he would have persisted even to the end. On the other hand, it is
possible that had he been faced with the task of reiterating for so
long the same fixed number and sequence of words with their inelastic
content of meaning, he would have defected even sooner: that, in fact,
the mere unintelligibility of the prayer conferred upon it for a season
the quality of the kabbalistic. But the essential fact is this, that
the emotional part of him now flowed like a sluggish backwater, and in
his emotion alone the ritual could have been steeped until it shone
with beauty and urgency.
Only his mind moved with any clarity, and his mind had long ago decided
that phylacteries belonged to Babylon, that all the terror of the Day
of Atonement was an immense, an almost conquering hypnotism, from which
with travail he had escaped. _Kaddish_ was but an issue of the same
quality as these, though more painful in its solution; for those others
were related merely to the general problem presented to him by his
race, whilst this was bound up so immediately with the lovely thing he
had lost.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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