Wartime lies - Louis Begley [46]
That is what she did. They agreed on the lowest acceptable price; Pani Wodolska asked Tania to stop by in two days, in the afternoon. She was sure that the affair would be concluded by then. Tania kept the appointment, leaving me at home. She returned very late, so late that I had become frightened. She said she was tired; she would say what had happened only if I promised not to repeat it to grandfather. Then she told me that, when she arrived, Pani Wodolska had asked her what other pieces she had brought. Tania was startled and told her none, she thought that was all we were selling. What you gave me were false stones set in gold-plated tin, replied Pani Wodolska. That is an old Jewish peddler trick, and I have the police waiting for you.
There was, in fact, a man in the apartment, who came in and sat down on a chair near the wall when Pani Wodolska rang. They finally allowed Tania to leave in exchange for the bracelet and the ring she was wearing and the contents of her wallet. It took her so long to return because she went about in circles, trying to make sure she was not being followed.
THE day of my first Communion came. Tania offered to give me breakfast on the sly in our room, but I refused. I wanted to be clean inside, just as Father P. had directed. The entire household, except for Pan Władek, who was not feeling well, went to church with Tania and me. Father P. had heard my confession the day before. I had gone over my sins with Tania to be sure there were just enough and that I did not try to be too clever. The priest blessed me. He told me to say the Creed twice, the Our Father five times and the Hail Mary as many times as I could and still pay attention. I did it all carefully and slowly, and even though I knew I remained in the state of mortal sin, I tried to do nothing, until I knelt to receive the wafer, that would add to the weight of the judgment hanging over me.
DANTE’S disdain: his disdain for the damned. They are naked, the reader knows it, yet Dante never misses an opportunity to point to that degrading circumstance. Take the tongue-lashing he administers, albeit with a touch of sanctimonious hesitation due to the subject’s exalted rank, to Pope Nicholas III, who sold church offices. Virgil approves of this boorish harangue. A satisfied look comes over his face as he listens to his disciple. In general, Virgil likes Dante’s disdainful soul, alma sdegnosa.
Dante’s damned also can be disdainful or, at least, unbowed. Brunetto Latini, sprinting along the burning sand with a band of sodomites, lifting his feet with the greatest possible speed from the fire, is like one running the race for the green flag in Verona, and seems to be among those who win and not those who lose—Dante uses the respectful voi when he speaks to him. Heretic Farinata rises upright in the tomb where he is baking to address Dante, as though he held hell in great disdain, com’avesse l’inferno in gran dispitto. Under flakes of fire falling slowly, like snow in the mountains when there is no wind, lies Capaneus, disdainful and scowling, dispettoso e torto; his pride is unquenched. And Vanni Fucci, tormented by serpents, makes the sign of the fig with both hands, crying, Take them, God, I am aiming at you, Togli, Dio, ch’a te le squadro! Ostensibly, these are instances of punishment that for mysterious reasons is not working: fire does not mature Capaneus, the bestial Vanni Fucci is unripe, acerbo, and the reader is not apt to take him into his heart. But what reader, even of those who have sane intellects, li’ntelletti sani, does not, in his heart of hearts, admire Brunetto and Farinata, even the blaspheming giant Capaneus, precisely for their disdain?
Why is this so? The grandfather’s and Tania’s bravery and occasional defiance were admirable, but then the punishment the Germans piled on them