Connecting to the Holocaust Through Literature: Dan Pagis

Twenty-three words are all Dan Pagis needs to convey an unimaginable situation to us. "Written in Pencil in the Sealed Railway Car" is narrated by a modern-day Eve, en route to an unavoidable demise, keeping company with her son Abel and begging a non-existent audience to assist her in delivering a message she will not live to complete. Just as the Torah's first family is riddled with tragedy of the domestic variety, so too are these four players about to fall prey to the evils of the Holocaust, the greatest blemish on the conscience of humanity. By viewing this poem through the lens of family, we are able to witness an emotionally charged event from a unique, albeit helpless, position.

Essentially, the title serves as the background; scrawled in pencil, an erasable medium (title), a mother proclaims herself as Eve (line two) with her son Abel (line three). We learn that Abel is the younger child, as she describes her older son (line four), Cain, the son of Adam (line five). She begins to transmit a missive but never completes her statement.

Family's essential nature fell completely askew in Genesis, as did it during the Shoah. Family is cyclical, with births and deaths overlapping as old generations die and new generations are born. Children bury their parents and then have their own kin, who will, in turn, bury them.

In Genesis, Abel's murder by the hands of his brother creates a break in the cycle; Adam and Eve witness the death of a child, by the hands of one of their own. Brutal slaughter during the Holocaust also eliminated this order.

Pagis' poem mimics these historical anomalies by ceasing to end with any definitive words or punctuation; returning to the beginning of the poem immediately after the last word would provide a clearer image of Eve wanting Cain and Adam to know that she and Abel are already headed towards their deaths.

Pagis' strength as a storyteller-cum-poet is apparent in his use of universally understandable and meaningful conventions. Families were divided cruelly and mercilessly during the Holocaust. Often the women and the weaker children were separated immediately from the men and stronger boys. Similarly, here are Eve and Abel alone and in a powerless state, with Cain – a physically dominant son – and Adam – a man created to protect the earth and rule over its creatures – absent.

Perhaps the most intriguing word choice is found in the fifth line, "kayin ben adam." Hebrew uses one word for both "man" in the generic, universal sense, and the same word "adam" becomes the proper name Adam, thus this line can be translated as "Cain, son of man" or "Cain, son of Adam." When considered in the Tanakh context, this piece implores us to preserve the integrity of Genesis' text and use "Adam" as the clear choice. Sans Tanakh we can see the poignance of choosing to interpret "adam" as "man."

Pagis' Eve uses the possessive twice vis-a-vis "b'ni" ("my son") to describe both Abel and Cain on different occasions. She does not, however, say "baali" ("my husband"), "av / abba shelo" ("his father") or "av / abba shelakhem" ("their father") to describe Adam either in relation to herself or to their children. If the "adam" here is specifically "Adam," Pagis is purposefully distancing Eve by not relating to him, perhaps because of feelings of abandonment. Abel is now her sole responsibility; Adam is, anachronistically, the proverbial "deadbeat dad."

Eve also creates distance between herself and Cain, initially describing him as "her older son" ("b'ni hagadol") but then redundantly calling him "ben Adam." Conversely, if "adam" is generic, Pagis' choice lends itself well to the collective memory of Holocaust evil. Genesis' Cain is a murderer, and slaughters his own brother. If he is "son of man" than Pagis is using Eve's voice as social commentary, for she is surrounded by murderers and, with the modern-day Abel, will become a victim at the hands of another human being.

Eve's relationship with her two sons extends past descriptive distance. Her very placement with Abel and not with Cain is critical; her motherly instincts have led her to be at the side of her younger, weaker child.

"Hevel" – "Abel" in English – is defined as "steam" or "vapor" and this conjures an image of instability and transparence. With this root, we also have the words for "worthless" and "futile." All of these words present a feeble image, and thus mandate the presence of Eve as necessary. Cain – "Kayin" in Hebrew – was named so, according to Genesis, because Eve remarks that she has "gained" a son with God's assistance; God's absence from the poem makes Cain unattainable to his mother. The beginning of the root is also used in Hebrew for "envy" and "jealous" which were the basis for Cain's murdering Abel.

Just as 23 chromosomes provide the genetic blueprint for half of a human life, twenty-three words give us half of a family, and provide a mother and a son in search of a father and a brother.

[Posted 3/27/03]