Rashi's Daughters, Book II: Miriam (67 page)

Judah nodded. “After all, they can find another rosh yeshiva, but where will Papa get someone else with my experience to work on his
kuntres
?”

“And your discretion,” Miriam added. Papa’s Torah commentary was no secret, but his Talmud
kuntres
was another matter.

She handed drowsy Alvina to Judah, who put her in her cradle. Then she waited while he undressed and got into bed. There was one more salvo in her argument. “In Troyes your memories of Aaron are mostly sweet ones,” she said. “But in Paris you’ll be reminded of worrying and waiting for him, when all the time he was already dead.”

The next moment Judah was weeping in her arms with great gulping sobs. “Miriam, I miss him so much.”

She held him and cried with him, mourning Benjamin, Aunt Sarah, the additional children she would never bear, and the perfect marriage she’d thought they had. Finally, when all their tears had been shed, she whispered, “So long as we remember them, those we loved will never truly be gone.”

Suddenly Judah froze, apparently realizing that they were in each other’s arms, naked. But he didn’t turn away from her; instead he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling for a long time. “Do you remember, when I first came to Troyes, how I wanted to be like Ben Azzai?”

“
Oui
,” she said. Probably Ben Azzai’s
yetzer hara
was also more attracted to men than to women; that’s why he preferred Torah study to procreation. And why he was so devoted to Rabbi Akiva, neglecting his wife, Akiva’s daughter.

“I think my destiny is to be Ben Azzai to Papa’s Akiva, except that I will have fulfilled the mitzvah of procreation.”

“I take it that I’ve convinced you to remain in Troyes,” she said. “Do you need me to convince you not to get divorced?”

He stared at the ceiling a while longer. “
Non
, my children need their mother . . . and their father needs her too.”

“Our children need both their parents.” She was too stunned to acknowledge his need of her.

Judah remained silent, so Miriam pulled the covers up and tried to sort out her feelings. First, there was relief that was almost exaltation. There was also resentment, for all the agony he had put her through. Yet mixed in was sadness and empathy for the pain he endured. Her love of Benjamin had been sanctioned and celebrated, while his love for Aaron would remain a shameful secret. One day she might tell him these things, but not tonight.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Judah rolled onto his side, facing her, and slipped his arm around her waist.
Has he changed his mind about using the bed, too?
But she didn’t have any of the sterilizing herbs prepared.

“I’m glad you decided to go to the
mikvah
,” he whispered. “Besides having someone to confide in, another benefit of marriage is sharing a bed, keeping each other warm, and not being alone in the dark. Just because we’re not using the bed doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate each other’s company at night.”

“I agree,” she replied, surprised at how relieved she felt.

“And if I happen to be sleeping with my back to you, you’re welcome to put your arm around me.”

“I’ll remember that.”

She was appreciating how much she’d missed the feeling of his warm body nestled against hers when Judah leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“I want you to know that, as much as I loved Aaron, I still love you,” he said. “
Bonne nuit.
”

Fate was an ironic thing, Miriam thought. Her two sisters felt such great passion for their husbands, yet Eliezer would be sharing Rachel’s bed less than half the year, while Meir sometimes spent several nights a week in Troyes, leaving Joheved alone with their daughters in Ramerupt. Only she seemed destined to sleep with her husband every night. They might live more like brother and sister, but it was love.

“
Bonne nuit
, Judah. I love you, too.”

She had relinquished the holy deed, yet she had not lost her husband’s affection. Though she would eventually have to give up nursing babies, teaching her children Torah would be an enduring pleasure. And, as a midwife and
mohelet
, babies would always be part of her life. In fact, she would be a far better midwife and
mohelet
now that she wouldn’t be incapacitated by future pregnancies.

Miriam snuggled closer to Judah, until she felt his warm breath on her neck, and remembered Papa’s favorite quote from Pirke Avot.

She and Judah had made their choices; he to be strong and she to be rich.

 

Some hours later, Miriam wasn’t sure how many because there were no bells in Ramerupt, there was a soft but insistent knocking at her door.

“Miriam,” Joheved whispered loudly. When Miriam cracked open the door, her sister held up a lamp and continued, “Yvette’s manservant is here. He says she’s in hard labor.”

Miriam began to dress. “I hoped that she’d last until after the festival, but at least she didn’t interrupt our seder.”

“I woke up a stable boy to saddle your mare.”

“
Merci
. Yvette’s other births didn’t take very long, but I’ll bring Alvina with me in case I’m delayed.”

Miriam grabbed her fur-lined cloak, kissed Judah, and whispered, “I have to ride into Troyes for a birth. I should be back before sunset.”

Judah murmured something unintelligible and pulled the covers over his head. But Miriam was already in the hall.

The half-moon gave off sufficient light to follow the road to Troyes, although Miriam was confident that her horse could find the way home even in the dark. The sky was just starting to lighten, illuminating the city walls in the distance. Birds were serenading the approaching dawn, and with her baby snuggled in her lap, Miriam felt that all was well in creation.

All around her the forest’s budding leaves were uncurling to meet the springtime sun, and soon Troyes’ Jewish Quarter would hear the cry of new life. She hoped it would be a boy.

THE QUESTION EVERYONE ASKS: what is fact in
Rashi’s Daughters
and what is fiction?

Salomon ben Isaac was a real man, whose Torah and Talmud commentaries contain many thousands of words about his life, his community, and his opinions. For him, I made every attempt to be as historically accurate as possible, and when forced to be creative, I used the wealth of information contained in his own writings to stay true to his character as I understood it. The legend that he was named after King Solomon because his
brit milah
coincided with the haftarah reading from First Kings 5:26, however, was too good to pass up.

But I admit it—there is absolutely no evidence, not even the hint of a legend, that Rashi’s son-in-law, Judah ben Natan, was physically attracted to men. And there is also no evidence or legend that his daughter Miriam was a midwife or a mohel, or that she was betrothed to another man before marrying Judah. On the other hand, Joheved and Meir’s lives on his estate in Ramerupt are described by their son Samuel, so I was more constrained in inventing their story.

While Judah and Miriam are certainly real historical figures, as is everyone in Rashi’s immediate family, I created their characters as archetypes. I apologize to those readers who greatly mourned the death of imaginary Benjamin, but it was common in Rashi’s time for young men to die in accidents and young women to die in childbirth. Jews who lived past adulthood often had more than one spouse, and I thought that at least one person in Rashi’s family should experience that.

The role of the
femme sage
, or midwife, learned in women’s medicine, was one I wanted to share with my readers, as well as the role of women merchants/moneylenders. So I chose Miriam to be the midwife and Rachel to be the merchant. When I discovered that women sometimes performed circumcisions in medieval Ashkenaz, I couldn’t resist giving Miriam that occupation as well. After all, there’s no proof that she wasn’t a midwife or mohel, and it’s entirely possible that she was.

Once I decided on her profession, I conducted years of research to ensure that my descriptions of medieval midwifery,
brit milah
, and mohel’s training were as accurate as possible. The same for Miriam’s herbology, Moses haCohen’s medical advice, and Jewish women’s lives in general.

But what about Judah?

Early in my Talmud studies with Rachel Adler, she pointed out how homosocial the yeshiva environment was, how a student with even the slightest inclination toward homosexuality would be vulnerable to falling in love with his teacher or study partner, and how traumatic this could be. I became intrigued with this phenomenon and decided to make Judah a model of it. Little did I know that ten years later I would become study partners with Rabbi Aaron Katz, who has greatly enlightened me with his personal perspective on the subject.

As I researched the history of homosexuality, I was fascinated to learn that not only is this word of recent origin, but the very concept is recent as well. Until after the Renaissance, as in ancient Greece and Rome, Europeans accepted that men might be sexually attracted to anyone beautiful, both maidens and youths. Lusty young men were assumed to have sex with each other, especially since young women were expected to remain chaste.

Sex with other men, known as “playing the game,” was prohibited, but the desire for it was not abnormal. Sexual relations between men were sinful, but love between them was honored. It is clear from songs and jokes of this time that monks were believed to be especially prone to these feelings, and we have many love letters written by medieval clergy to each other that confirm this belief. Apparently the society that was tolerant toward Jews and learned women also tolerated Ganymedes.

But enough about Judah’s possible sexual orientation. Since his and Miriam’s only daughter was named Alvina, I chose to call his mother that. Their oldest son, Yom Tov, became a scholar in Paris, so I based Judah’s family there. Their other two sons are less well known, so I can only hope the names I found for them are correct. Rachel’s husband really was Eliezer ben Shemiah, but his brother Asher is imaginary, as is Aunt Sarah.

Meir’s family were clearly feudal lords, as both viticulture and raising sheep required a good deal of land. His son Samuel did marry Shemayah’s daughter, and because the couple had only daughters, I got the idea of making her a hemophilia carrier (the disease is described in the Talmud). The scandal of Joseph marrying a young woman and then leaving most of his wealth to his son Samson before dying appears in several responsa, as does the custom of interrupting services. I included this because Samson did end up marrying one of Meir’s daughters.

Count Thibault, his wife, Adelaide, and his sons are historical figures, as are Count André of Ramerupt and his wife, Alice. Pope Gregory’s battles with King Henry over reform of the Catholic Church are well documented. The twin epidemics of 1089 killed many of the youngest and oldest members of the population, including Count Thibault, although unlike more modern times, smallpox was almost exclusively a disease of children in Rashi’s time.

Machzor Vitry
(an eight hundred–page anthology of Jewish law, liturgy, and customs compiled by Rashi’s students and disciples) was one of my primary sources for knowledge of how his community observed Jewish holidays and life-cycle events. The chapters on
niddah
and
brit milah
were particularly useful, as were those describing Havdalah and Passover. Another amazing source was
Urban Civilization
by Irving Agus, which despite its bland title is a collection of medieval Ashkenaz responsa, translated into English and arranged by subject. It is truly a “Dear Abby” of medieval Jewish life, and the inspiration for many scenes in my novels. The magical and medical remedies I used in
Rashi’s Daughters
, as well as the astrology and demonology, came from the Talmud itself or other medieval sources; I could never have invented such bizarre stuff.

Speaking of the Talmud, the passages I quoted are: Bava Metzia 64a (chapter 3), Yevamot 65b and Pesachim 108a (chapter 6), Yevamot 61b (chapter 8), Chagigah 14b (chapter 9), Berachot 62a and Niddah 31b (chapter 10), Niddah 31a (chapter 14), Avoda Zara 27a (chapter 16), Shabbat 133b, Niddah 64b, and Nedarim 20a (chapter 18), Bava Kamma 83b (chapter 20), Kiddushin 29a (chapter 23), Kiddushin 82a, Kiddushin 29a, and Shabbat 130a (chapter 24), Avoda Zara 12b and Yevamot 12b (chapter 28), Sanhedrin 54a and Chullin 109a (chapter 30), and Sotah 11b and Pesachim 108b (chapter 34). You can find the Sages’ discussion of lucky and unlucky days in Shabbat 129b. Please note that all translations are my own.

For those readers who are interested in my many sources, a bibliography is located on my website,
www.rashisdaughters.com
, under “Historical Info.”

Allemagne
Germany

 

Angleterre
England

 

Arayot
sections of Talmud dealing with sexual relations

 

Azmil
special knife used for circumcisions

 

Beit din
Jewish court

 

Bima
pulpit, raised platform in synagogue where Torah is read

 

Bliaut
tunic, outer garment worn over a chemise by both men and women

 

Braises
men’s short pants

 

Brit milah
ritual circumcision, performed when the baby boy is eight days old

 

Chacham
Jewish scholar

 

Denier
silver penny; a chicken costs four deniers

 

Disner
midday meal, usually the largest meal of the day