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- Herausgeber: Gothic World Literature Editions
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Viye Raines' novel The Levite's Concubine is an engrossing retelling of the most bizarre and savage chapter in the Hebrew Bible — Judges Chapter 19. Told with striking historical detail, one of the most ancient parts of the Old Testament comes alive, opening with the concubine fleeing her master and closing with the her startling and unforgettable destruction. Affecting and intimate, unrestrained and ghastly, The Levite's Concubine combines rich storytelling with an original insight into Biblical history and women's roles in a compelling time and place — about 1000 years BCE — in the land that would become Israel. Although the story told in Judges Chapter 19 is violent, it ultimately takes our attention because of its treatment of women. Not only does it feature as its central act a vicious molestation of an innocent woman, it is also a part of a religious text. This text, our Hebrew Bible, is not just central to Jewish and Christian civilisation, but also to their worship, and is held by nearly a third of the people of the planet to be spiritually significant.
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Seitenzahl: 187
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
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5
In those days Israel had no king;
all the people did
whatever seemed right
in their own eyes.
Contents
The Levite’s Concubine
by Viye Raines
Content Notice
This novel retells what is probably the most violent chapter in the Hebrew Bible, Judges 19. In a scene intentionally reminiscent of Lot’s treatment in Sodom, the townspeople portrayed herein demand to rape the Levite of the story’s title. The Levite instead offers his concubine, and as the story goes, the people “raped her and abused her throughout the night, and at dawn they let her go.” When the Levite finds his concubine’s body, he cuts her into twelve pieces and sends a piece to each of the tribes of Israel. This is the traumatic aspect of the story you are about to read, and these actions are presented vivividly within this book, and in detail which may upset some readers. You are advised therefore to bear this in mind, and to avoid this story and this novel if you are likely to be affected negatively by its content.
א
The Levite and his concubine waited until the flocks had moved from the hill before settling their bed for the night. The shepherds passed before them, larger than life, their sheep covered in golden locks. The sun set into the staves of the trees and the Levite watched from a crouch as the concubine raised a fire and the last few animals passed. The Levite sneezed and hiccupped until the fire sputtered to life, and when the flames lifted a solid light he untied his skirts and pulled a rug from the back of his mule.
I’m ready, he said, and the concubine stared at him, suspended for that moment, unsure what to do.
This was the concubine’s first night with the Levite and it set the pattern for all those that were to follow. First, the splaying of the Levite’s dusty rug and the flint of their weak fire. Then the shadowy face of the Levite and his gradual approach. Lastly, her ears ringing as the Levite forced himself on her, and his repeated shoving 10into her hips. The Levite trembled as he bore hard his concubine, calling her names like dog and jackal, and smelling of raw hides and alcohol When the Levite had finished with the concubine he collapsed at her side — and that’s when he said that he loved her.
I love you, he said, you’re very good.
These were his words.
After looking sharply about the Levite retreated to a rock where he made some holy motions and recited his evening prayer. The concubine cooked and the Levite prayed and when he had finished he returned to her side to eat. The Levite watched his mule while he chewed, as if intoxicated by a plan to eat it also.
Your father said you were a decent cook, said the Levite, pronging his food with his short stick. Have you nothing more to show for it? he asked.
The concubine knew that if she said replied then the Levite would harden his voice and silence her. His vocabulary was dirt and he spread it wherever he went.
When the moon turned the clouds a milky white, the Levite prayed and the concubine shook out their bedding. The Levite’s prayer recalled a time when his god Yahveh had strewn the flesh of men like chicken feed, a murderous time when the tribal god of Israel had perpetrated many cruel jokes on Egypt, a land of idiots. All the concubine could distinguish of the prayer were oaths and promises, and in the small cove of moonlight in which the Levite muttered, his words added to the chill of the evening. Only when the Levite’s concubine wrapped her body for the night did the Levite stop praying and kick the earth to gather her attention. 11
Here, was all the Levite said, and he motioned her towards him.
When the concubine knelt the Levite seemed angry as if she hadn’t understood. From deep in the pastures night birds sang in muffled accents, but as near as her own breath, the concubine heard the Levite gulp his wine and felt the bass of his belch on her cheek.
Closer, was all the Levite said, and he placed her hand between his legs.
The concubine glanced to where the Levite had been praying, but there was nothing there, just the merest light from the moon, which buried the land, raising shapes in its dry light.
The Levite arrived as the feathery leaves of Bethlehem divided and the seed vessels appeared. That evening sparrows sang in the withered fern of the hedges and the young Levite walked to the tanner’s shop where unfamiliar machines were painted a staring red — machines with knives and machines with clawed spikes which seemed to prick his eyes to look at them. Odours rose from the tanner’s store and the Levite lay idly where the mules sloshed in the troughs below the poorest houses. The sun drew away and the tanner left for the night, and nobody paid much attention to the Levite, who rested near the mangers, speaking to the passers-by about the women of the area.
You’re looking for a woman like everybody else! said an old man to the Levite. 12
That’s why I’m here, replied the honest Levite.
Are there no women in your own country? asked a shepherd, but the Levite slithered on his thighs and smiled.
Bethlehem is the place for women, he said, and he carefully shrugged.
The next morning, the Levite explored the village of Bethlehem, touring the market stalls and asking the merchants about the women of the area. That evening the Levite walked from the village to the fruit trees at Beth Jala where he watched the carpenters drilling the fine-grained apricot timber. The wood was a rich red within and the Levite felt giddy when he was within the cloud of its smell. Just as at the market, the Levite asked each man about his trade, before changing the subject to that of women. The men of Beth Jala scraped the apricot wood and offered the Levite every reasonable point of view concerning the women that they knew, until after several hours, the Levite returned to Bethlehem, looking over walls and in doors, all the while searching for a wife. Like this, the Levite wandered for seven days until he had made a list of girls he wished to concubine.
On the seventh night the sky was purple and the Levite lay down again at the mangers. His eyelids widened as he listened to the voices that floated through the night until the last cubby-holes of light vanished and he drifted to sleep. He dreamed of pink clear lips and an axe spinning over a sea of dunes. He dreamed he heard Yahveh’s name as he often did in his sleep. In his thoughts were ever-increasing clouds of vultures, a mist and vapour as it were of wings. When the Levite woke it 13was early and several villagers had arrived at the tanner’s shop. The Levite thought immediately of the four women he wished to concubine and he repeated their names —
Haya,
Rivka,
Youssra and
Zaha
It was with these four concubines in mind that the Levite rose to visit the fathers of Bethlehem, each time bowing and sitting cross-legged while the fathers spoke. The Levite listened to these men with an attentive smile, waiting to hear how much each man wanted for his daughter. When the Levite had made his choice, he visited the house of the girl he had chosen and prepared to pay up. The house faced the wilderness and sat in the sun as if a languor weighed upon it. The father of the Levite’s new girl waited proudly, hypnotically stroking his beard. The Levite weighed the money on the father’s scales and both men stood in appreciation of the sum.
The scales are even, said the Levite tickling his ear as he watched.
Would they be anything else? questioned the father.
The daughter sat on a rug, her head sunk towards a vast emptiness.
I didn’t mean the scales ought not to balance! said the Levite, and both men laughed, roughly shaking hands, taking pleasure from the usual jokes that were made about uneven scales.
The final pang of humour passed, and the girl was 14sent to wait nearby. Her eyes were fixed on the scales when the two men shook hands and agreed.
Tell me what apology I can make for buying your daughter, asked the Levite, but the father shook his head.
She’s yours now, said the father, and he looked at the Levite with a smile of superb relief.
The daughter stood on the Jerusalem Road with her new master, the very important Levite from the hill country of the Ephraim. The Levite pushed his new concubine in the direction of his northern home and as a final act before he left the town of Bethlehem he spat on the ground and worked it in with his foot.
ב
What is it to play the whore? A whore by her other name is an available woman — and the phrase to play the whore is spoken with the bluntness of a pointed finger. Above all the charge of playing the whore is an accusation that no man wishes to hear of his wife or concubine, the words are the first drops of blood in a painful struggle.
A wind in the Levite’s village had brought a yellow dust to the Ephraim, a light pollen that was the same colour as the yellow bricks of the houses. To the Levite’s eye, there was no variation in this desert colour. Nearby was a window with a yellow stonecrop above it and below it were the yellow robes of his neighbour — everything yellow.
For days the Levite meditated on the word whore while he kicked at the blotches of dead grass outside his door. For days the Levite watched the dust shift on the breeze until night dropped with its separate illusions of 16forms. Villagers and neighbours agreed that the Levite would eventually petrify on his step if he didn’t get up and forget about his concubine, the whore.
Meanwhile, the word whore passed through the Levite’s home village and left a complex impression on his mind. Lies and rumours whistled in the fields, fanned by the fly-whisks of local gossip. The word whore now pained the Levite and hurt him like an injured confidence. The accusation was clear — his concubine had played the whore against him and she had departed.
The Levite sat before his door listening for more venomous innuendos from his neighbours. He stared into the turbid waters of the mule’s pool and his fingers fidgeted at his robe as he watched the pale road south, unsure if he should believe the accusations he’d heard.
Follow her and beat her, said his immediate neighbour. Her father will beat her for you. You can beat her again.
I should let her go, said the Levite, but his anger burned like a wall of fire.
Go and take her back from Bethlehem, said his neighbour. She’s yours to do with as you please.
I can’t say what I’ll do, answered the Levite, even though he knew that he should follow his concubine and reclaim her.
The Levite’s neighbour said so be it, and walked the yellow path to the cow yard. The Levite watched his neighbour go back to where his own obedient women worked with their quick fingers, pruning eaglewood by stripping away the white barks. Then the Levite left his small house and walked to say his prayers at the altar. 17
If I punish that woman once, he thought, I’ll have to punish her all my days. If I let her go, he thought, then I can take another woman who’ll obey me.
With this in mind, the Levite carried out his services for a month but after two months he was still thinking about his concubine from Bethlehem. Even in the Levite’s worship, the concubine appeared in his imagination, seizing his thoughts and snapping him awake. The Levite thought of his concubine’s naked body most of all and the fleeting pleasure he’d felt when he first took her in his hands. Now, with no one to cook for him, the Levite couldn’t eat and he relied on his brother’s family for bread. Worse, in every woman’s face the Levite saw images of that one woman denying him — and still the whisper sounded in the Ephraim.
Your concubine played the whore against you, said the whisper, — and the Levite felt more fury each time.
That busy little dog, thought the Levite during worship. She should be beaten or dragged by the heels, he thought. She should be tied up in a cave. She should be left where the flies buzz and where the lizards slither, until the birds build a nest in her hair — she should be punished, he kept thinking.
The Levite’s imagination surpassed itself and although he repeated his prayers he was disgusted with his thoughts. At the stone altar, the Levite was unable to concentrate for wondering who his concubine had been with — and he looked among the men of his village, all of whom he could see each day, praying beside him. The men at prayer looked so innocent that the Levite began to wonder if the concubine had been with anyone at all. The 18other men prayed and the Levite thought of his concubine, his mouth drier than a mummy’s mouth. That woman should be punished, he thought, and with a muffled choke he saw his hands reach out to grip his prayer mat. The Levite glanced at the altar, mindful of the dull sound of the prayers around him and the sound of men tapping animal teeth against the stones. After dreaming of beating his concubine the Levite now desired her again — and so he gave up praying and ceased his worship for the day, trembling with an unfocused anger.
After four months the Levite heard the word whore once again, this time from a woman at the gate. The Levite stood beneath the broken gatehouse where a squat woman with a wasp yellow face sold herbs and bread. He watched as the woman gathered up her loaves and sneered.
I shan’t give you any bread, said the woman. You can get bread from your brother — or fetch it from your whore!
The old woman grinned and the Levite felt sick, staring at the brazen rings of the woman’s eyes. The word whore was a spear in the Levite’s side, a strike that caught him in the gut. He grabbed the old woman and asked her where she’d heard this thing but the woman threw off his hand, laughing from the veins in her throat.
Who’s the man with whom she played the whore? asked the Levite, and wretchedly upset, he shook the old woman by the neck. 19
The laughing woman was unable to answer and so the Levite let her go.
You gossip-mongers will be our end, he said, and he continued to his brother’s house to collect some bread.
The summer had killed the shrubs and the white blossoms of the spring had faded into stone. The fruit of the balm had been picked and the crops in the orchards had turned to purple. The fields had faded, leaving a land of dried herb that slipped towards death. The air was like the mouth of a furnace, and above the hills the light became weaker until the greyest summits in the distance seemed like illusions. The Levite returned to the turbid and muddy waters of the donkey’s pool and looked towards the city of Bethlehem. Each time he looked towards Bethlehem he was unable to think about his prayers for the disappointment of his loss. Each day that he looked towards Bethlehem, the Levite’s feelings became stronger until he was unable able to move for thinking about her.
It can’t be that he is in love, said his brother to his wife, and his brother’s wife laughed, bending up to try and keep quiet.
He acts like it! she whispered when the Levite had gone.
The Levite thought about his concubine in Bethlehem and wondered why she’d run away. He’d liked the way the concubine sang and the way she’d said his name. He’d liked her skill with plants, and he was amused by her basic knowledge of law. The Levite had even liked the secret stirring within the young concubine that yearned for a freedom he would never allow her. When the Levite 20found himself wishing to hear his concubine’s voice once more, he called for his servant and for two mules and prepared to make his journey. As the Levite made ready to travel, whispers rose in the Ephraim. The sun streamed through the vines, carrying the same voices that repeated the same word — whore.
The next morning four months had passed, and the Levite rose and looked to the south. Towards the going-down of the sun was the road to Bethlehem, the place where his concubine had returned to. When the mules were ready the Levite and his servant set off, intending to stop at the first altar and pray. The Levite’s brother watched the Levite leave the village and he thought of the concubine who had played the whore.
What will he do when he finds her? asked the Levite’s brother’s wife.
No one can say that, said the brother. Only his Lord Yahveh knows that now.
ג
Waiting at his father-in-law’s door in Bethlehem, the Levite shivered in the sun. The collar of his cloak pressed into his neck as if wedged there by the heat, and his hair formed a crest where he had brushed it upwards with his palm. The women of Bethlehem had seen the Levite’s concubine return and now the Levite had returned also, and it had not been long before the news had reached every ear. The Levite banged on his father-in-law’s door and waited. When the father slowly opened the door, his face tightened in joy as if he were welcoming a son. The father pulled the Levite forward and kissed him.
My daughter’s still here! the father announced, and he tried to recall the sum that the Levite had paid for her. My boy you are so lucky, said the father, and he motioned the Levite to enter.
The Levite sweated, hot from the effort of his walk, his stern eyes the colour of stone. He waited on the 22threshold in refusal, blocking the entrance with his hands on his hips.
Your daughter has played the whore against me, he whispered, and the muscles in his forehead bulged.
These are the words with which the Levite returned to Bethlehem and the house of his concubine’s father.
The father fanned his arms in the air and beckoned his son forward, unable to control his mirth.
She’s here! said the father, and he waved an arm in the direction of the yard.
The old man pulled the Levite forward, pressing him clumsily into the darkness of his home. The Levite’s servant followed and when the door had closed the father showed both men into the house’s yard. The concubine stood in the yard and hung her head when she saw the Levite had returned, and the Levite’s heart hurt when he saw that she was as attractive as ever. Breathing quickly, the Levite felt his affection for the concubine turn once more to anger. The Levite’s arms were weightless and he steadied himself on the door while the concubine stared at her feet. Four months had passed and the summer had coloured the concubine’s skin. Her eyes still burned but the Levite found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her hips, obeying the irresistible laws of his desire. Four months had passed and the Levite was relieved that the concubine wasn’t pregnant — and now he wanted to touch her again and feel her body where it curved beneath her clothes. As if the Levite and his concubine were young lovers, the air was infused with an awkward trembling which the father broke by clapping his hands.
Here she is! said the father, although neither the 23Levite nor his concubine responded, but merely stood in the lurch, each in fear of the other.
We’ll rest tonight and return to the hill country tomorrow, said the Levite, but the father prevailed upon him to stay.
You know the custom, said the father. On the first day we sit with each other — on the second day we eat and drink — and on the third day we say farewell. You’ll stay for at least three days and return to the hill country once you’ve rested!
