As Ben-Zion had no capital to open a shop and wait until trade should come his way, he decided to become a trader among the peasants in the nearby country villages. He began his life plodding through the country, but he could not make it go. He then tried to succeed in gaining wealth as most of his co-religionists were doing. He was unfortunate in his business ventures, failure seemed to follow in his wake. He was somewhat of a dreamer. He always had “fixed ideas” which robbed him of the flexibility of the moneymaker. He dreamed of great speculation and enterprises, but whatever he attempted never materialized in the fashion he hoped. His spirit was sentimentally liberal and indifferent to the remorseless onward march of time.
The Ingulez or Ingulets is a tributary of the Dnieper; a nearby village, Altona, was founded in 1873 by Mennonites. Originally on the right bank, in 1876 and 1877 the village was moved to the nearby hills because of frequent floods.
Ben-Zion moved his family to Zagradovka, near the city of Kherson, in the Ukraine. There he bought out a small flour mill situated on the snaky, treacherous Ingulez River, which was operated by water power, and took to grinding grist and flour. He enjoyed a large patronage from the neighboring peasants and it looked for a time as if Ben-Zion was on the way to financial success. In the spring of the third year [about 1871], quick thawing of the unusually heavy snow of the winter and heavy spring rains caused the river to swell and overflow its banks. It submerged thousands of acres of early seeded wheat and rye and undermined hundreds of frail farmhouses and sheds. The flood devastated the country for miles on both sides of the river.
Presumably he had been stationed or fought near this rural village, now named Zahradivka. (Alas, we hear no more of Ben-Zion's military adventures.) Moving there entails a journey of over 1500 kilometers and must have taken quite awhile. Considering he has recently arrived from there, returning with the family seems an extraordinary notion. One wonders how he found out about this opportunity.
Herman (Chaim) was born in 1864, a year after David.
After the water receded it was seen how the ice had broken up and carried away the entire mill. It seemed to be Ben-Zion’s fate to never succeed in any undertaking. All his hard labor and savings were wiped out by the flood. Leah was much grieved. “What will become of our two boys, David and Herman?” she cried. “They ought to go to school. I don’t expect them to be Talmudic students like my brother, but they should at least have some religious training. They should not grow up entirely without training, but our poverty does not permit us to pay for a teacher [tutor?]."
When he laments that there isn't enough for a tutor, would that be because the parents don’t want their sons attending a cheyder [primary school for Jewish boys]?
Bossaky: The bosiaki of Odessa are perhaps most infamous for their hooliganism in the pogroms and other uprisings in the early 1900s. "The word bosiak comes from the Russian word for 'barefoot' ... and is usually translated as 'hobo' or tramp'; but Odessa’s bosaiaki were ... the unskilled casual workers who performed the menial jobs in the city's mammorth ports...." Hooliganism: Crime, Culture, and Power in St. Petersburg 1900-1914, Joan Neuberger, p.91; Univ. of California Press.
"Open thy hand wide...": Proverbs 19:17
It was a week after the outrageous Palm Sunday pogrom in Odessa (1871), when a tall rawboned youth with high cheek bones, black piercing eyes sunk deeply in his head, his left hand badly bandaged, and withal looking very pale from loss of blood and hunger, came into Ben-Zion’s shop. He gave his name, said he was a senior in the civil engineering class at the University of Odessa, and that during the recent pogrom he had had a scuffle with a Bossaky [“the meanest roughneck hooligans among the Russians”] who shot off two fingers of his left hand, and that he barely managed to escape from him with his life. Ben-Zion’s sympathy was aroused at the sight of the wounded student. He called to Leah, saying, “Open thy hand wide and do the best you can for this student, for he that giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord.”
With all maternal feelings aroused, Leah took the young man into the house. First of all she cleansed the wound and bandaged his hand with clean linen; then she gave him a change of clothes, a good meal, and let him sleep in order that he might rest. They asked him to stay at least until his hand was healed and he could get some work. Little David, Leah’s oldest boy, was much fascinated by the stranger. He liked the man because the man played with him. After a few days the stranger felt better and he related the story of his misfortune.
Mujik: Literally a serf or a peasant.
"It was before the Passover eve, when the neighboring Mujiks [Russian rioters] had been to church until midnight where they mourned at the supposed tomb of the slain Christ. Then, after pining all the long night, they went from street to street shouting ‘Christ is risen, Christ is risen.’
"The mob turned its cruelty on the defenseless Jewish homes, plundering and burning all in a fury, although mercifully sparing the lives of some of the homeless and penniless families. Those who had no money to bribe with fared much worse. If the oldest daughter in the house was handsome to look upon, no protest against the violation of her chastity could hope to save her. My father could have escaped torment in a moment by having a few drops of holy water sprinkled on him, for baptism opened to all the door of opportunity.
"But the ancient fire still blazed fiercely within my father and he was prepared to suffer and to die if need be rather than endure so-called Christian church under forced conditions, although the door of expediency sometimes had to be entered by unfortunate persons. But my father said: ‘I still am a Jew,’ and after he suffered great agony he grappled with the Bossaky assailant who killed my father with the butt of his pistol. When I went to my father’s aid, he shot me and struck my left hand. Two fingers were dangling and had to be cut off. I am grateful for your kindness and hope some day to be able to return to you a friendly compliment for such a charitable deed."
Notice that here David is using the quote from the university student as a mouthpiece for the narration about the causes and description of the pogroms in Odessa in 1871.
The first mention of “baptism” in the novel/diary. I think historians would disagree with David, because the reality was that baptism did NOT open all the doors.
He then departed for parts unknown.
The economic conditions in Kherson Gubermin, in Ukraine, were intolerable and a new beginner without capital or acquaintances had no show whatever to compete with old established concerns. Ben-Zion saw slim chance for a living, so he decided to go to the Crimea where competition was not quite so hard. He hoped to build up a trade, as he was a good worker.
Melitopol was a beautifully built city of about 20,000 people in Tavricheskya, in the Crimea. Its population was a conglomeration of Greeks, Tartars, Germans, Poles, Lithuanians, Jews and Kremtchaky [Turkish Krymchaks, adherents of Rabbinical Judaism], and Karaims [or Karaites], who were the predominant colony. The native Karaims were a Jewish sect known as adherents of the Scriptures, holding strictly to the written text of the Old Testament and disregarding all oral teachings and traditional commentaries. They kept themselves aloof from the Rabbinical or Talmudic Jews. They spoke a Russian-Tartar lingo of their own. The Karaims were held in high esteem by the Russians in general. They wore no beards or forelocks, and were distinguished from the heathen by their mode of living.
It was in 1837 that Nicolas I recognized them as the real Biblical Jews, granted them immunity from military service and gave them freedom of trade everywhere in the empire. Melitopol was like all Oriental towns, with a large marketplace located in the center, the heart and pulse of all activities. Its Moorish architectural design and its trading booths, bazaars and stalls where the merchants displayed their wares were redolent of the East.
Melitopol was surrounded with large suburban villages on three sides and the river Molochna on the fourth side, spanned by a drawbridge for entrance into the city. Ben-Zion decided to locate there. With difficulty he succeeded in borrowing sufficient capital to open a small tinshop. In a few years he went bankrupt. Despite his persistent efforts, he barely succeeded in keeping himself and family afloat and always felt that his life was a failure, despite the fact that he had worked hard.
A comparatively easy move of 350 kilometers!
It was the hour after midnight. The homes were wrapped in thick darkness. The thatched roofs cast an air of mystery over the town within. All was silent; the town was sleeping. The artisans were tired from a long day’s toil; the tradesmen and shopkeepers had done enough worrying and thinking during the day and were worn out. All were endeavoring to gather some strength and energy for the coming day, when once more they would have to struggle and hustle with their daily tasks. A stillness reigned, a stillness that made the darkness of the town more intense and pervading. The stars had hidden themselves somewhere behind the shadow of the night, while the moon evidently was afraid to show her lovely face in the midst of a universe that was so full of darkness and mystery.
Candles everywhere had long since been snuffed out and lamps extinguished. The window shutters were tightened. Only in Ben-Zion’s humble dwelling a feeble flame flickered. Leah’s stoic character was above the average, for she always carried a chip on her shoulder, she being Yanke Hennes’ daughter, or she would have not endured the hardship.
It was a November morning and a cold and dreary rain drizzled outside, beating frantically against the windowpanes. The call of some crows in nearby treetops added a gloom to her thoughts. In the chimney a few embers still smoldered. In the dim corner of the room, from a wooden cupboard, a few white dishes glimmered in the firelight. On the tall bed, upon the straw mattress and covered by a dusky spread, there lay four small children, four little souls, hovering amid dreams. The cold wind rocked the frail house in a fiendish embrace.
“Oh my poor Ben-Zion!” Leah murmured. “Four children and two of us to provide for. I would not be surprised if that man may not be driven to desperation.
”Ben-Zion entered muttering. He cast a glance at the farther corner and slowly shook his head, saying at last, “Is there not going to be an end to my misery?”
Again, Ben-Zion worked hard and was persistent, but failed in his quest for economic success. What was it this time that led to his failure? Lack of capital, wider economic circumstances beyond his control, or some personal failure that could have been avoided? This time David does not explain the deeper reasons behind Ben-Zion's lack of success.
He acknowledges that his father worked hard, and even managed to keep his family "afloat" financially, yet has to point out that Ben-Zion himself felt his life was a failure. Indeed, this was a judgment that David himself also rendered with regard to his father.
Interesting misinterpretation of the expression, "carrying a chip on your shoulder." It seems that Leah did the opposite, as nary the suggestion of resentment ever shades her character.
What does he mean about the "chip on Leah’s shoulder?" Does it mean she is testy and pre-emptive and touchy? But then he says that her "chip" helped her endure... so then it might be useful. It means: "perceived grievance or sense of inferiority." But then to say it gave Leah help in enduring is totally confusing.
"Small children": The year is approximately 1873. David, the eldest, is now around 10.
Again we bear witness to David's harsh recitation of the many flaws of Ben-Zion that limited his financial success: he was too much of a dreamer, he had "fixed ideas" that robbed him of the flexibility needed to succeed in the world of business, and so failure "seemed to follow in his wake." These are themes that recur throughout the Diary, in David's criticisms of his siblings and then of his disfavored son, my grandfather Albert. I'm drawn to David's vision of the interplay between the circumstances that we each encounter in our lives—over which we have little if any control—and the attitudes and reactions we bring to those events, which are entirely within our ability to control. It gives me a framework for thinking about my own struggles and ambition, but at the same time it leaves little room for sympathy for those who do not "rise above" their circumstances. And, most disturbingly, it leaves utterly unanswered the question of why some are unable to overcome the limitations of their circumstances.