NCERT Textbook: A Wedding in Brownsville | Class 12 English Kaleidoscope - Humanities/Arts PDF Download

 Page 1


21/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville
Isaac Bashevis Singer was born in Poland. His
father and grandfather were rabbis and he was
educated at the Warsaw Rabbinical Seminary. In
1935 he emigrated to the US and since then has
worked as a regular journalist and columnist for
the New York paper, The Jewish Daily Forward.
Apart from some early work published in Warsaw,
nearly all his fiction has been written in Yiddish
for this journal. It is relatively recently that Singer’s
work has been translated on any scale and that
his merit, and the endurance of his writing, have
been recognised by a general audience. He was
awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1978. His
publications include—A Friend of Kafka, The
Seance and Other Stories.
The wedding had been a burden to Dr Solomon Margolin
from the very beginning. True, it was to take place on a
Sunday, but Gretl had been right when she said that was
the only evening in the week they could spend together. It
always turned out that way. His responsibilities to the
community made him give away the evenings that belonged
to her. The Zionists had appointed him to a committee; he
was a board member of a Jewish scholastic society; he
had become co-editor of an academic Jewish quarterly.
And though he often referred to himself as an agnostic
and even an atheist, nevertheless for years he had been
dragging Gretl to Seders at Abraham Mekheles’, a Landsman
from Sencimin. Dr Margolin treated rabbis, refugees, and
Jewish writers without charge, supplying them with
medicines and, if necessary, a hospital bed. There had
3 3
3 3 3
Isaac Bashevis Singer
1902–1991
2024-25
Page 2


21/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville
Isaac Bashevis Singer was born in Poland. His
father and grandfather were rabbis and he was
educated at the Warsaw Rabbinical Seminary. In
1935 he emigrated to the US and since then has
worked as a regular journalist and columnist for
the New York paper, The Jewish Daily Forward.
Apart from some early work published in Warsaw,
nearly all his fiction has been written in Yiddish
for this journal. It is relatively recently that Singer’s
work has been translated on any scale and that
his merit, and the endurance of his writing, have
been recognised by a general audience. He was
awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1978. His
publications include—A Friend of Kafka, The
Seance and Other Stories.
The wedding had been a burden to Dr Solomon Margolin
from the very beginning. True, it was to take place on a
Sunday, but Gretl had been right when she said that was
the only evening in the week they could spend together. It
always turned out that way. His responsibilities to the
community made him give away the evenings that belonged
to her. The Zionists had appointed him to a committee; he
was a board member of a Jewish scholastic society; he
had become co-editor of an academic Jewish quarterly.
And though he often referred to himself as an agnostic
and even an atheist, nevertheless for years he had been
dragging Gretl to Seders at Abraham Mekheles’, a Landsman
from Sencimin. Dr Margolin treated rabbis, refugees, and
Jewish writers without charge, supplying them with
medicines and, if necessary, a hospital bed. There had
3 3
3 3 3
Isaac Bashevis Singer
1902–1991
2024-25
22/KALEIDOSCOPE
been a time when he had gone regularly to the meetings of
the Senciminer Society, had accepted positions in their
ranks, and had attended all the parties. Now Abraham
Mekheles was marrying off his youngest daughter, Sylvia.
The minute the invitation arrived, Gretl had announced
her decision: she was not going to let herself be carted off
to a wedding somewhere out in the wilds of Brownsville. If
he, Solomon, wanted to go and gorge himself on all kinds
of greasy food, coming home at three o’clock in the morning,
that was his prerogative.
Dr Margolin admitted to himself that his wife was right.
When would he get a chance to sleep? He had to be at the
hospital early Monday morning. Moreover he was on a strict
fat-free diet. A wedding like this one would be a feast of
poisons. Everything about such celebrations irritated him
now: the Anglicised Yiddish, the Yiddishised English, the
ear-splitting music and unruly dances. Jewish laws and
customs were completely distorted; men who had no regard
for Jewishness wore skullcaps; and the reverend rabbis
and cantors aped the Christian ministers. Whenever he
took Gretl to a wedding or Bar Mitzvah, he was ashamed.
Even she, born a Christian, could see that American
Judaism was a mess. At least this time he would be spared
the trouble of making apologies to her.
Usually after breakfast on Sunday, he and his wife
took a walk in Central Park, or, when the weather was
mild, went to the Palisades. But today Solomon Margolin
lingered in bed. During the years, he had stopped attending
functions of the Senciminer Society; meanwhile the town
of Sencimin had been destroyed. His family there had been
tortured, burned, gassed. Many Senciminers had survived,
and, later, come to America from the camps, but most of
them were younger people whom he, Solomon, had not
known in the old country. Tonight everyone would be there;
the Senciminers belonging to the bride’s family and the
Tereshpolers belonging to the groom’s. He knew how they
would pester him, reproach him for growing aloof, drop
hints that he was a snob. They would address him
familiarly, slap him on the back, drag him off to dance.
2024-25
Page 3


21/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville
Isaac Bashevis Singer was born in Poland. His
father and grandfather were rabbis and he was
educated at the Warsaw Rabbinical Seminary. In
1935 he emigrated to the US and since then has
worked as a regular journalist and columnist for
the New York paper, The Jewish Daily Forward.
Apart from some early work published in Warsaw,
nearly all his fiction has been written in Yiddish
for this journal. It is relatively recently that Singer’s
work has been translated on any scale and that
his merit, and the endurance of his writing, have
been recognised by a general audience. He was
awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1978. His
publications include—A Friend of Kafka, The
Seance and Other Stories.
The wedding had been a burden to Dr Solomon Margolin
from the very beginning. True, it was to take place on a
Sunday, but Gretl had been right when she said that was
the only evening in the week they could spend together. It
always turned out that way. His responsibilities to the
community made him give away the evenings that belonged
to her. The Zionists had appointed him to a committee; he
was a board member of a Jewish scholastic society; he
had become co-editor of an academic Jewish quarterly.
And though he often referred to himself as an agnostic
and even an atheist, nevertheless for years he had been
dragging Gretl to Seders at Abraham Mekheles’, a Landsman
from Sencimin. Dr Margolin treated rabbis, refugees, and
Jewish writers without charge, supplying them with
medicines and, if necessary, a hospital bed. There had
3 3
3 3 3
Isaac Bashevis Singer
1902–1991
2024-25
22/KALEIDOSCOPE
been a time when he had gone regularly to the meetings of
the Senciminer Society, had accepted positions in their
ranks, and had attended all the parties. Now Abraham
Mekheles was marrying off his youngest daughter, Sylvia.
The minute the invitation arrived, Gretl had announced
her decision: she was not going to let herself be carted off
to a wedding somewhere out in the wilds of Brownsville. If
he, Solomon, wanted to go and gorge himself on all kinds
of greasy food, coming home at three o’clock in the morning,
that was his prerogative.
Dr Margolin admitted to himself that his wife was right.
When would he get a chance to sleep? He had to be at the
hospital early Monday morning. Moreover he was on a strict
fat-free diet. A wedding like this one would be a feast of
poisons. Everything about such celebrations irritated him
now: the Anglicised Yiddish, the Yiddishised English, the
ear-splitting music and unruly dances. Jewish laws and
customs were completely distorted; men who had no regard
for Jewishness wore skullcaps; and the reverend rabbis
and cantors aped the Christian ministers. Whenever he
took Gretl to a wedding or Bar Mitzvah, he was ashamed.
Even she, born a Christian, could see that American
Judaism was a mess. At least this time he would be spared
the trouble of making apologies to her.
Usually after breakfast on Sunday, he and his wife
took a walk in Central Park, or, when the weather was
mild, went to the Palisades. But today Solomon Margolin
lingered in bed. During the years, he had stopped attending
functions of the Senciminer Society; meanwhile the town
of Sencimin had been destroyed. His family there had been
tortured, burned, gassed. Many Senciminers had survived,
and, later, come to America from the camps, but most of
them were younger people whom he, Solomon, had not
known in the old country. Tonight everyone would be there;
the Senciminers belonging to the bride’s family and the
Tereshpolers belonging to the groom’s. He knew how they
would pester him, reproach him for growing aloof, drop
hints that he was a snob. They would address him
familiarly, slap him on the back, drag him off to dance.
2024-25
23/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
Well, even so, he had to go to Sylvia’s wedding. He had
already sent out the present.
The day had dawned, grey and dreary as dusk.
Overnight, a heavy snow had fallen. Solomon Margolin had
hoped to make up for the sleep he was going to lose, but
unfortunately he had woken even earlier than usual. Finally
he got up. He shaved himself meticulously at the bathroom
mirror and also trimmed the grey hair at his temples. Today
of all days he looked his age: there were bags under his
eyes, and his face was lined. Exhaustion showed in his
features. His nose appeared longer and sharper than usual;
there were deep folds at the sides of his mouth. After
breakfast he stretched out on the living-room sofa. From
there he could see Gretl, who was standing in the kitchen,
ironing—blonde, faded, middle-aged. She had on a skimpy
petticoat, and her calves were as muscular as a dancer’s.
Gretl had been a nurse in the Berlin hospital where he
had been a member of the staff. Of her family, one brother,
a Nazi, had died of typhus in a Russian prison camp. A
second, who was a Communist, had been shot by the Nazis.
Her aged father vegetated at the home of his other daughter
in Hamburg, and Gretl sent him money regularly. She
herself had become almost Jewish in New York. She had
made friends with Jewish women, joined Hadassah, learned
to cook Jewish dishes. Even her sigh was Jewish. And she
lamented continually over the Nazi catastrophe. She had
her plot waiting for her beside his in that part of the
cemetery that the Senciminers had reserved for themselves.
Dr Margolin yawned, reached for the cigarette that
lay in an ashtray on the coffee table beside him, and began
to think about himself. His career had gone well. Ostensibly
he was a success. He had an office on West End Avenue
and wealthy patients. His colleagues respected him, and
he was an important figure in Jewish circles in New York.
What more could a boy from Sencimin expect? A self-taught
man, the son of a poor teacher of Talmud? In person he
was tall and quite handsome, and he had always had a
way with women. He still pursued them—more than was
good for him at his age and with his high blood pressure.
2024-25
Page 4


21/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville
Isaac Bashevis Singer was born in Poland. His
father and grandfather were rabbis and he was
educated at the Warsaw Rabbinical Seminary. In
1935 he emigrated to the US and since then has
worked as a regular journalist and columnist for
the New York paper, The Jewish Daily Forward.
Apart from some early work published in Warsaw,
nearly all his fiction has been written in Yiddish
for this journal. It is relatively recently that Singer’s
work has been translated on any scale and that
his merit, and the endurance of his writing, have
been recognised by a general audience. He was
awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1978. His
publications include—A Friend of Kafka, The
Seance and Other Stories.
The wedding had been a burden to Dr Solomon Margolin
from the very beginning. True, it was to take place on a
Sunday, but Gretl had been right when she said that was
the only evening in the week they could spend together. It
always turned out that way. His responsibilities to the
community made him give away the evenings that belonged
to her. The Zionists had appointed him to a committee; he
was a board member of a Jewish scholastic society; he
had become co-editor of an academic Jewish quarterly.
And though he often referred to himself as an agnostic
and even an atheist, nevertheless for years he had been
dragging Gretl to Seders at Abraham Mekheles’, a Landsman
from Sencimin. Dr Margolin treated rabbis, refugees, and
Jewish writers without charge, supplying them with
medicines and, if necessary, a hospital bed. There had
3 3
3 3 3
Isaac Bashevis Singer
1902–1991
2024-25
22/KALEIDOSCOPE
been a time when he had gone regularly to the meetings of
the Senciminer Society, had accepted positions in their
ranks, and had attended all the parties. Now Abraham
Mekheles was marrying off his youngest daughter, Sylvia.
The minute the invitation arrived, Gretl had announced
her decision: she was not going to let herself be carted off
to a wedding somewhere out in the wilds of Brownsville. If
he, Solomon, wanted to go and gorge himself on all kinds
of greasy food, coming home at three o’clock in the morning,
that was his prerogative.
Dr Margolin admitted to himself that his wife was right.
When would he get a chance to sleep? He had to be at the
hospital early Monday morning. Moreover he was on a strict
fat-free diet. A wedding like this one would be a feast of
poisons. Everything about such celebrations irritated him
now: the Anglicised Yiddish, the Yiddishised English, the
ear-splitting music and unruly dances. Jewish laws and
customs were completely distorted; men who had no regard
for Jewishness wore skullcaps; and the reverend rabbis
and cantors aped the Christian ministers. Whenever he
took Gretl to a wedding or Bar Mitzvah, he was ashamed.
Even she, born a Christian, could see that American
Judaism was a mess. At least this time he would be spared
the trouble of making apologies to her.
Usually after breakfast on Sunday, he and his wife
took a walk in Central Park, or, when the weather was
mild, went to the Palisades. But today Solomon Margolin
lingered in bed. During the years, he had stopped attending
functions of the Senciminer Society; meanwhile the town
of Sencimin had been destroyed. His family there had been
tortured, burned, gassed. Many Senciminers had survived,
and, later, come to America from the camps, but most of
them were younger people whom he, Solomon, had not
known in the old country. Tonight everyone would be there;
the Senciminers belonging to the bride’s family and the
Tereshpolers belonging to the groom’s. He knew how they
would pester him, reproach him for growing aloof, drop
hints that he was a snob. They would address him
familiarly, slap him on the back, drag him off to dance.
2024-25
23/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
Well, even so, he had to go to Sylvia’s wedding. He had
already sent out the present.
The day had dawned, grey and dreary as dusk.
Overnight, a heavy snow had fallen. Solomon Margolin had
hoped to make up for the sleep he was going to lose, but
unfortunately he had woken even earlier than usual. Finally
he got up. He shaved himself meticulously at the bathroom
mirror and also trimmed the grey hair at his temples. Today
of all days he looked his age: there were bags under his
eyes, and his face was lined. Exhaustion showed in his
features. His nose appeared longer and sharper than usual;
there were deep folds at the sides of his mouth. After
breakfast he stretched out on the living-room sofa. From
there he could see Gretl, who was standing in the kitchen,
ironing—blonde, faded, middle-aged. She had on a skimpy
petticoat, and her calves were as muscular as a dancer’s.
Gretl had been a nurse in the Berlin hospital where he
had been a member of the staff. Of her family, one brother,
a Nazi, had died of typhus in a Russian prison camp. A
second, who was a Communist, had been shot by the Nazis.
Her aged father vegetated at the home of his other daughter
in Hamburg, and Gretl sent him money regularly. She
herself had become almost Jewish in New York. She had
made friends with Jewish women, joined Hadassah, learned
to cook Jewish dishes. Even her sigh was Jewish. And she
lamented continually over the Nazi catastrophe. She had
her plot waiting for her beside his in that part of the
cemetery that the Senciminers had reserved for themselves.
Dr Margolin yawned, reached for the cigarette that
lay in an ashtray on the coffee table beside him, and began
to think about himself. His career had gone well. Ostensibly
he was a success. He had an office on West End Avenue
and wealthy patients. His colleagues respected him, and
he was an important figure in Jewish circles in New York.
What more could a boy from Sencimin expect? A self-taught
man, the son of a poor teacher of Talmud? In person he
was tall and quite handsome, and he had always had a
way with women. He still pursued them—more than was
good for him at his age and with his high blood pressure.
2024-25
24/KALEIDOSCOPE
But secretly Solomon Margolin had always felt that he
was a failure. As a child he had been acclaimed a prodigy,
reciting long passages of the Bible and studying the Talmud
and Commentaries on his own. When he was a boy of
eleven, he had sent for a Responsum to the rabbi of Tarnow
who had referred to him in his reply as ‘great and
illustrious’. In his teens he had become a master in the
Guide for the Perplexed and the Kuzari. He had taught
himself algebra and geometry. At seventeen he had
attempted a translation of Spinoza’s Ethics from Latin into
Hebrew, unaware that it had been done before. Everyone
predicted he would turn out to be a genius. But he had
squandered his talents, continually changing his field of
study; and he had wasted years in learning languages, in
wandering from country to country. Nor had he had any
luck with his one great love, Raizel, the daughter of Melekh
the watchmaker. Raizel had married someone else and later
had been shot by the Nazis. All his life Solomon Margolin
had been plagued by the eternal questions. He still lay
awake at night trying to solve the mysteries of the universe.
He suffered from hypochondria and the fear of death
haunted even his dreams. Hitler’s carnage and the
extinction of his family had rooted out his last hope for
better days, had destroyed all his faith in humanity. He
had begun to despise the matrons who came to him with
their petty ills while millions were devising horrible deaths
for one another.
Gretl came in from the kitchen.
‘What shirt are you going to put on?’
Solomon Margolin regarded her quietly. She had had
her own share of troubles. She had suffered in silence for
her two brothers, even for Hans, the Nazi. She had gone
through a prolonged change of life. Now her face was
flushed and covered with beads of sweat. He earned more
than enough to pay for a maid, yet Gretl insisted on doing
all the housework herself, even the laundry. It had become
a mania with her. Every day she scoured the oven. She
was forever polishing the windows of their apartment on
the sixteenth floor and without using a safety belt. All the
2024-25
Page 5


21/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville A Wedding in Brownsville
Isaac Bashevis Singer was born in Poland. His
father and grandfather were rabbis and he was
educated at the Warsaw Rabbinical Seminary. In
1935 he emigrated to the US and since then has
worked as a regular journalist and columnist for
the New York paper, The Jewish Daily Forward.
Apart from some early work published in Warsaw,
nearly all his fiction has been written in Yiddish
for this journal. It is relatively recently that Singer’s
work has been translated on any scale and that
his merit, and the endurance of his writing, have
been recognised by a general audience. He was
awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1978. His
publications include—A Friend of Kafka, The
Seance and Other Stories.
The wedding had been a burden to Dr Solomon Margolin
from the very beginning. True, it was to take place on a
Sunday, but Gretl had been right when she said that was
the only evening in the week they could spend together. It
always turned out that way. His responsibilities to the
community made him give away the evenings that belonged
to her. The Zionists had appointed him to a committee; he
was a board member of a Jewish scholastic society; he
had become co-editor of an academic Jewish quarterly.
And though he often referred to himself as an agnostic
and even an atheist, nevertheless for years he had been
dragging Gretl to Seders at Abraham Mekheles’, a Landsman
from Sencimin. Dr Margolin treated rabbis, refugees, and
Jewish writers without charge, supplying them with
medicines and, if necessary, a hospital bed. There had
3 3
3 3 3
Isaac Bashevis Singer
1902–1991
2024-25
22/KALEIDOSCOPE
been a time when he had gone regularly to the meetings of
the Senciminer Society, had accepted positions in their
ranks, and had attended all the parties. Now Abraham
Mekheles was marrying off his youngest daughter, Sylvia.
The minute the invitation arrived, Gretl had announced
her decision: she was not going to let herself be carted off
to a wedding somewhere out in the wilds of Brownsville. If
he, Solomon, wanted to go and gorge himself on all kinds
of greasy food, coming home at three o’clock in the morning,
that was his prerogative.
Dr Margolin admitted to himself that his wife was right.
When would he get a chance to sleep? He had to be at the
hospital early Monday morning. Moreover he was on a strict
fat-free diet. A wedding like this one would be a feast of
poisons. Everything about such celebrations irritated him
now: the Anglicised Yiddish, the Yiddishised English, the
ear-splitting music and unruly dances. Jewish laws and
customs were completely distorted; men who had no regard
for Jewishness wore skullcaps; and the reverend rabbis
and cantors aped the Christian ministers. Whenever he
took Gretl to a wedding or Bar Mitzvah, he was ashamed.
Even she, born a Christian, could see that American
Judaism was a mess. At least this time he would be spared
the trouble of making apologies to her.
Usually after breakfast on Sunday, he and his wife
took a walk in Central Park, or, when the weather was
mild, went to the Palisades. But today Solomon Margolin
lingered in bed. During the years, he had stopped attending
functions of the Senciminer Society; meanwhile the town
of Sencimin had been destroyed. His family there had been
tortured, burned, gassed. Many Senciminers had survived,
and, later, come to America from the camps, but most of
them were younger people whom he, Solomon, had not
known in the old country. Tonight everyone would be there;
the Senciminers belonging to the bride’s family and the
Tereshpolers belonging to the groom’s. He knew how they
would pester him, reproach him for growing aloof, drop
hints that he was a snob. They would address him
familiarly, slap him on the back, drag him off to dance.
2024-25
23/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
Well, even so, he had to go to Sylvia’s wedding. He had
already sent out the present.
The day had dawned, grey and dreary as dusk.
Overnight, a heavy snow had fallen. Solomon Margolin had
hoped to make up for the sleep he was going to lose, but
unfortunately he had woken even earlier than usual. Finally
he got up. He shaved himself meticulously at the bathroom
mirror and also trimmed the grey hair at his temples. Today
of all days he looked his age: there were bags under his
eyes, and his face was lined. Exhaustion showed in his
features. His nose appeared longer and sharper than usual;
there were deep folds at the sides of his mouth. After
breakfast he stretched out on the living-room sofa. From
there he could see Gretl, who was standing in the kitchen,
ironing—blonde, faded, middle-aged. She had on a skimpy
petticoat, and her calves were as muscular as a dancer’s.
Gretl had been a nurse in the Berlin hospital where he
had been a member of the staff. Of her family, one brother,
a Nazi, had died of typhus in a Russian prison camp. A
second, who was a Communist, had been shot by the Nazis.
Her aged father vegetated at the home of his other daughter
in Hamburg, and Gretl sent him money regularly. She
herself had become almost Jewish in New York. She had
made friends with Jewish women, joined Hadassah, learned
to cook Jewish dishes. Even her sigh was Jewish. And she
lamented continually over the Nazi catastrophe. She had
her plot waiting for her beside his in that part of the
cemetery that the Senciminers had reserved for themselves.
Dr Margolin yawned, reached for the cigarette that
lay in an ashtray on the coffee table beside him, and began
to think about himself. His career had gone well. Ostensibly
he was a success. He had an office on West End Avenue
and wealthy patients. His colleagues respected him, and
he was an important figure in Jewish circles in New York.
What more could a boy from Sencimin expect? A self-taught
man, the son of a poor teacher of Talmud? In person he
was tall and quite handsome, and he had always had a
way with women. He still pursued them—more than was
good for him at his age and with his high blood pressure.
2024-25
24/KALEIDOSCOPE
But secretly Solomon Margolin had always felt that he
was a failure. As a child he had been acclaimed a prodigy,
reciting long passages of the Bible and studying the Talmud
and Commentaries on his own. When he was a boy of
eleven, he had sent for a Responsum to the rabbi of Tarnow
who had referred to him in his reply as ‘great and
illustrious’. In his teens he had become a master in the
Guide for the Perplexed and the Kuzari. He had taught
himself algebra and geometry. At seventeen he had
attempted a translation of Spinoza’s Ethics from Latin into
Hebrew, unaware that it had been done before. Everyone
predicted he would turn out to be a genius. But he had
squandered his talents, continually changing his field of
study; and he had wasted years in learning languages, in
wandering from country to country. Nor had he had any
luck with his one great love, Raizel, the daughter of Melekh
the watchmaker. Raizel had married someone else and later
had been shot by the Nazis. All his life Solomon Margolin
had been plagued by the eternal questions. He still lay
awake at night trying to solve the mysteries of the universe.
He suffered from hypochondria and the fear of death
haunted even his dreams. Hitler’s carnage and the
extinction of his family had rooted out his last hope for
better days, had destroyed all his faith in humanity. He
had begun to despise the matrons who came to him with
their petty ills while millions were devising horrible deaths
for one another.
Gretl came in from the kitchen.
‘What shirt are you going to put on?’
Solomon Margolin regarded her quietly. She had had
her own share of troubles. She had suffered in silence for
her two brothers, even for Hans, the Nazi. She had gone
through a prolonged change of life. Now her face was
flushed and covered with beads of sweat. He earned more
than enough to pay for a maid, yet Gretl insisted on doing
all the housework herself, even the laundry. It had become
a mania with her. Every day she scoured the oven. She
was forever polishing the windows of their apartment on
the sixteenth floor and without using a safety belt. All the
2024-25
25/A WEDDING IN BROWNSVILLE
other housewives in the building ordered their groceries
delivered, but Gretl lugged the heavy bags from the
supermarket herself.
Now husband and wife sized each other up wryly,
feeling the strangeness that comes of great familiarity. He
was always amazed at how she had lost her looks. No one
feature had altered, but something in her aspect had given
way: her pride, her hopefulness, her curiosity. He blurted
out:
‘What shirt? It doesn’t matter. A white shirt.’
‘You’re not going to wear the tuxedo? Wait, I’ll bring
you a vitamin.’
‘I don’t want a vitamin.’
‘But you yourself say they’re good for you.’
‘Leave me alone.’
‘Well, it’s your health, not mine.’
And slowly she walked out of the room, hesitating as if
she expected him to remember something and call her back.
Stop and Think Stop and Think Stop and Think Stop and Think Stop and Think
1. Who were the Senciminers?
2. Why did Dr Margolin not particularly want his wife
to accompany him to the wedding?
Dr Solomon Margolin took a last look in the mirror
and left the house. He felt refreshed by the half-hour nap
he had had after dinner. Despite his age, he still wanted
to impress people with his appearance—even the
Senciminers. He had his illusions. In Germany he had
taken pride in the fact that he looked like a Junker, and in
New York he was often aware that he could pass for an
Anglo-Saxon. He was tall, slim, blond, blue-eyed. His hair
was thinning, had turned somewhat grey, but he managed
to disguise these signs of age. He stooped a little, but in
company was quick to straighten up. Years ago in Germany
he had worn a monocle and though in New York that would
have been too pretentious, his glance still retained a
European severity. He had his principles. He had never
broken the Hippocratic Oath. With his patients he was
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