OCTOBER 21, 1949
THE CANADIAN JEWISH REVIEW
THE RACHAM: BRODKOF'S SYNAGOGUE
By Henry Cohen
It was just possible that a man of immense verve, a rapid, vehement talker, a banger of tables, a furious, self-assertive vowcr by the Holy Scroll of the Law and upon his own dear mother's life, and who in addition paid the rent and the electricity bill, supplied the candles and the pickled herring, it was just possible that he might have dominated the Chassidim. But what did Brodkof do? He went white in the face, he bit his thin, lower lip, he paced up and down at the back of the Kacham, and he cried! Yes, I myself saw him cry on several occasions. I saw n couple of small tears trickle down his cheeks and I heard something between a cough and a sob break from his throat.
It was all over nothing at nil, the tiniest of tiny trifles.
"Let's start," said Brodkof on Friday evening, when it was quite dark outside and the other synagogues had long finished their service. No one took any notice of him. Everybody went on talking loudly and animatedly.
"Let's start," repeated Brodkof. He was foolish, of course. He should have got round Firmann and Stannenberg quietly beforehand. Then, if all three had together banged the large sloping-topped chest which stood in the front of the synagogue near the Ark, and if they had simultaneously shouted, "Let's start!" there would have been a chance of the Rachnm taking notice. As it was, Brorlkof said for the third time, "Let's start," and no one bothered with him.
He tried shoutiner, though his voice nt its loudest was little more than an ineffectual pining:
"T.pt's start, I say, let's start!"
Thin though his shout had been, it rcc^mnlished one thing, never very difficult to accomplish; it aroused Pirmann's choking rage.
"And I say no!" choked Firmann.
"And I say yes!"
"And I say no I" _
"*Ttd I say yes!"
Others Joined in to support Firmann.
"And I say no! And I say no! And I say no!"
"Yes, yes!"
"No, no!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
Then it was that Brodkof re-tirod to the back of the synagogue, white with fury, and paced up and down biting his thin lower lip and crying. But Firmann had a good heart; so had Stannenberg, so had Kembell. As soon as they saw Bvodkof's piteous condition, they trailed after him. Also pacing up and down, they turned when he turned, they stopped when he stopped.
"Listen, Brodkof," said Firmann. "Don't take it like that . . ."
"Brodkof, you mustn't take it like that," said Stannenberg.
"It's just that we didn't think everyone had arrived yet." said Kembell.
"Every other synagogue1," muttered Brodkof, "every other synagogue has finished long ago�not started, but finished! And we haven't even started . . ."
"All right," said Firmann, "so let's start. Gentlemen!" he shouted, "let's start! It's late enough already, so let's start!"
"Let's start!" echoed Stannenberg.
"Come on everybody!" called Kembell, "it's time to start!"
Firmann put his arm around Brodkof and wheedled him back to the front of the synagogue. We all felt glad that the row was over. Brodkof's T>ale, miserable face brightened up a little, he smiled feebly. Firmann smiled and chuckled. Kembell gave a croaking laugh. Stannenberg sang a quaint Urra-diddle. We all smiled and laughed and urged each other to our seats. We all loudly told each other to stop talking and banged the backs of benches to secure silence. There was a great din as everyone shouted � "Silence! Silence! Enough already! Let's start!"
The arguments were not quite over, because Brodkof had still to be persuaded to sing the evening service as cantor.
"Come on, Brodkof," said Stannenberg.
"No, you, Stannenberg!"
"No, come on Brodkof, give us a good tune."
"Stannenberg, do me a favour�"
"Ach! Brodkof, leave me alone, don't make no business�"
"Come on, Stannenberg." Brodkof pushed Stannenberg gently toward the cantor's stand. Stannenberg at the same time pushed Brodkof. Firmann was involved somehow, either pushing them both or separating them. Kembell stood nearby and expostulated generally. Suddenly Brodkof gave way. Without the slightest further argument, he walked swiftly over to the cantor's stand, dextrously manoeuvred the prayer-shawl over his head in a couple of movements, and began
� . � �* � . - �
to Intone. He intoned for about five minutes on the same vowel, going upwards and dfewuggrds, backwards and forwards, in and out, round and round, over and under, betwixt and between, then up and down again, and over and under . . . We waited. Finally, when Brodkof's voice had finished chanting that one unfortunate vowel, he tore through the remainder of the service at a speed which gratified those at the back, "the boys," but scandalised the religious ciders at the front. At such a speed, they declared, the service was invalid.
"Insane," said others, "there's no getting away from it, he's insane."
Brodkof was-now a transformed man. He hummed cheerfully to himself, he folded the prayer-shawl, he ignored all the remarks which were passed about him, was not in the least bit touchy.
"Gentlemen," he said, "row \\v can go home to the wives, who are waiting with supper, the good old
supper, with fried fish and wine. I ask you, what is there to beat a Jewish Friday night?"
"Insane," still grumbled some of the elders. "A madness has taken hold of the world."
There was once an American song with the chorus:
"I like sociability, for sociability's sake, for sociability's sake!"
That was how Brodkof felt about the Racham; it explained why he ran the Racham. The Chassidim never asked themselves why Brodkof settled the rent, paid for the coal, and so on; they took sociability for granted, whereas Brodkof was continuously, actively, and consciously engaged in promoting sociability. On Friday evenings, Saturday mornings, and Saturday evenings, before, during and after services, there was at the Racham all the sociability a man could desire. Too much sociability, even; it interfered with the service and ignored the organization which Brodkof had put in during the week.
The correspondence which the synagogue received, the final notices of bills long overdue with the penalties for non-payment heavily underlined in red type, were left on the table for all to see. Occasionally Brodkof drew Firmann and Stannenberg and Kembell aside, and in a loud private argument pointed out the crippling cost of running the synagogue. He did so, less in the hope of persuading them to contribute towards the bills, than in order somehow to get the Chassidim to recognize, to be aware
of, to have some faint inkling of all that he was doing for sociability's sake. But the correspondence was scattered about the synagogue or used to light cigarettes from the fire immediately the Sabbath was over and smoking once again permitted.
Firmann and Stannenberg and Kembell completely missed the main issue by abusing the Gas fmnpany, the Electricity Company, the landlords, and the coalman for sending in such outrageous bill?. As for the threats heavily underlined in red type, they told Brodkof not to worry. So long as he paid eventually, it did not matter how late he was; his credit was good, everybody knew that. If he had been a pauper, it would have been different.
The fact was that Brodkof did not receive proper recognition because of the very success of his efforts for sociability's sake. There was so much sociability in the Racham on Friday evening, Saturday morning, and Saturday evening, that no one thought of what they owed to Brodkof. The curious thing was, that in spite of this lack of recognition, Brodkof wanted still more sociability. There was Saturday afternoon, for instance, the long Saturday afternoons in summer, from three o'clock till seven. The Racham was quite empty then.
Why shouldn't there be a men's club to hold meetings and discussions over tea and biscuits? He, Brodkof, would willingly supply the first fortnight's biscuits, and after the first fortnight they could see . . . perhaps a small contribution from each member . . . The Chassidim discussed with animation the (Continued on Page Bight)
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