Meir Marat Levin /

Meir Marat Levin /

Oh, if you can keep your mind,

When there is madness and lies all around,

You dare to believe that you are right,

And you will find the courage to admit guilt.

R. Kipling

Among my stories, many readers single out one - “Kipa from Versace”, which I present here, and then I will continue the story.

Versace kippah

I was flying to Kyiv. One of the Jewish organizations finally appreciated my work and called me in for negotiations. We paid for the air tickets. Apparently, I was flying in place of some boss who canceled the flight at the last moment. Everything was incomprehensible to me. The business class was swarming with so-called “new Ukrainians” and “new Russians.” Everyone is dressed in the latest world fashion. The bodyguards were distinguished by the bearing of elite KGB units. Girlfriends and wives were not inferior in quality of clothes and jewelry to Hollywood movie stars.

I had my book on my lap. The man sitting in the next chair asked permission to look at her. I passed it on. He thanked. I looked more closely: my neighbor was an impeccably dressed man of about forty-five. “Religious,” I noted with surprise. The kippah on Lazar Moiseevich was small and elegant, clearly “from Versace”. Tzitzit - “from Valentino.” Everything else also corresponded to the image of the oligarch. He handed over his business card. I don’t remember what was written there - either Russian manganese, or Siberian aluminum, or Ukrainian sugar, or all together. It was clear that the best French masters had worked on his wife’s makeup. However, all this tinsel could not deceive me. “Our man,” I thought. And I was not mistaken.

Oddly enough, the book aroused his interest. Lazarus laughed as if he didn’t have a penny in his account. Only young people laugh like that. The wife behaved more seriously. Finally, Lazar came to the story “Matchmaker”.

“Listen,” suggested Lazar, “my wife: a Caucasian Jew.” The son does not want to hear about the Ashkenazi woman. Just give him a Sephardic one. Besides, as you can see, we are religious. We don't chase wealth. Thank God, they themselves are not poor. We need a pure and unspoiled girl. And we, as you understand, will not leave anyone offended.

I immediately remembered unpublished books, the joy of acquaintances whom I helped earn extra money. I decided: why not? He will not lose, and I will have both money and the commandment. One Sephardic girl was praising me. I introduced her to the son of Lazarus. True, the girl was against it, saying that they were not religious enough. But everyone attacked her: they say, she’s a fool, oligarchs don’t lie on the road. They merried.

I wasn't at the wedding: I wasn't invited. But there were rumors about some miracles.

Thirty-eight rabbis from Ukraine were present among the guests. The remaining seventy-eight sent congratulatory telegrams and blessed the newlyweds. But Joseph Kobzon and the Russian police choir performed a Hasidic hit, “Yaponchik” and “Taivanchik” danced “Freylekhs”. Philip Kirkorov sang all Israeli songs in his repertoire. They say there were even greeting telegrams from Vladimir Putin and George Bush.

True, thoughts about the book had to be temporarily put aside. Lazar called. I apologized. He complained about the depreciation of the Vietnamese won and the Japanese yen, as well as about a virus that affected crocodiles in Africa. Although he promised: as soon as the currency is leveled and the crocodiles can be cured, he will publish my book on the most expensive paper with gilding. And it will be designed by an artist... I don’t remember the name. And Voinovich himself will write the foreword.

The next day I found out that the bride’s mother had a fight with Lazar’s wife. She insisted that she had been deceived. She was ashamed in front of her relatives. There was nothing to eat at the wedding. Nuts were not included in many dishes. The sleek cucumbers were of the wrong caliber. Lazar's wife claimed that she gave the bride a forty-carat ring, which she bought from the heir of the Iranian Shah. And that she was deceived: they promised a daughter-in-law with a thirty-six foot size, but they gave her a thirty-six and a half. Periodically, both mothers call us at home, terrorizing my wife, who had nothing to do with it. And recently, the bride, having scattered and crippled a group of bodyguards from the Mossad, tore off Lazar’s Versace kippah and threw it from the eighty-seventh floor...

Now I want to talk about another couple.

Shimon belonged to a group of people with a precise diagnosis - abnormal. Recently, many amateur psychiatrists have appeared. Any non-standard person automatically receives the status of “persona non grata”. Moreover, it is almost impossible to refute such a diagnosis. Of course, at thirty-three he divorced his beautiful wife because of some nonsense. She worked as a lawyer and earned bags of money. Well, the woman wanted to dress well. Well, just think, a little bit not quite modest. But it's religious. Well, in the evening there were meetings for three days in a row. I didn’t go to the mikvah*. What if he had asked nicely?.. In short, Shimon and Miriam separated. There are three children left. He searched for a mate for three years without success.

Ruth was thirty-four years old. Lived in the Chernobyl zone. Endocrinological examinations in Russia showed that she was unable to bear children. She was haggard and worried. She began to experience deep depression. But she was incredibly intelligent and smart. I was afraid to propose her candidacy to Shimon. Finally I decided. Shimon asked:

-Is she religious?

-Yes.

-How old is she?

-Thirty four.

- So she can give birth.

- But…

- I'm no longer interested. - But…

-When will you introduce us?

Everyone felt sorry for her all the time. Delegations of witnesses to Shimon's madness appeared from distant cities. Two weeks later the wedding took place.

And then I really got scared - and how could I not be scared? Instead of an orchestra, a tape recorder played. Some friend took the photo. There are about sixty guests. But the worst was yet to come. As usual, I came in a shirt. He stood aside. I've already done my job. Suddenly they come up and say: “Shimon demands that you take him to the chuppah.” What kind of witness is without a jacket and a hat? Well, I had the jacket at home. It's so far away. And there is no hat at all. Okay, some Rav put his uniform on me. Then they couldn’t take me out of this jacket for a long time. The difference was ten sizes. And I only got rid of the hat on the second day. I had to smear it with soap.

But that's not so bad. In the morning Shimon and his wife come to me and bring money. They apologize that it’s not enough. I refuse. And he starts shouting that they don’t wish him well, they don’t want them to be happy. I had to take it and then return it through strangers so that they wouldn’t guess. But I realized: the rumor about him was not in vain.

And I was finally convinced of this after nine months. Shimon's son was circumcised in the yeshiva. So this crazy guy suddenly decided to choose me as sandak. I had to get my hat from somewhere again. Okay, I had time, I found my size.

Yes, that's right. But for some reason, when people feel sick of life, they go to admire Shimon’s family. So say after this that madness is not contagious.

People are surprised at how accurately I described the main character, as they believe, the Ukrainian billionaire Igor Kolomoisky. In fact, the story was written 12 years before I first heard his name. People like him are not the heroes of my novel at all. Moreover, I do not claim the Holy Spirit, telepathy or telekinesis, and the prototype of “Kolomoisky” was entirely invented in my head. Perhaps today, to describe this man, I would add to the clothes an embroidered shirt from Valentino and the phrase: “Glory to the heroes, glory to the heroes!”

Let's return to the main character, Shimon. Ruth gave birth to four children in a row, at 36, 37, 38, 39 years old. She was not treated and gave birth easily, although according to the laws of medicine this was impossible. And yesterday was the Bar Mitzvah of their boy Shmulik, who had me as a sandak at one time. Naturally, we bought him two suits and a shirt, as expected.

In the synagogue, the rabbi in whose place I was taken as sandak, a direct descendant of King David, read a commentary on the weekly chapter “Vayigash”, on a passage that I had not understood for many years. The end of the conflict between Yosef and his brothers was approaching. Yosef asked all Egyptians to leave the premises. He didn't want to embarrass his brothers by confessing in front of the public. Then he turned to his brothers: “I am Yosef, your brother.” And he added quietly, because he understood that the Egyptians were eavesdropping: “That brother whom you sold to Egypt. Is my father still alive? Everyone froze, stricken with shame. What is this connected with? Suddenly, unexpectedly, they realized that that brother, whom they suspected of a thirst for power and a desire to deal with them with the help of their father, was in fact G-d's messenger, and his dreams were prophecies, and not an unhealthy desire to dominate.

They sold it to Egypt, confident that they were right. The phrase “Is my father alive?” he reproaches them that even if he was to blame, then why didn’t they feel sorry for their father?

And thirdly, he says to them: “Have you really not noticed that I am like two peas in a pod like our father?”

Woe to us on the Day of Judgment! Yosef was by no means the eldest in the family, but when he said: “I am Yosef!”, the brothers were overcome by an indescribable feeling of shame for their action. This will happen when Hashem reveals Himself to each of us, declaring: “I am Hashem!” And then we will see that all our excuses are stupidity, that all our reasons, circumstances that we accepted as evil, justifying our actions, were the greatest good. It is human nature to think that everything he does is either right or justified. The way either people or circumstances forced him to. The evil inclination will always find a reasonable, even logical explanation for such a course of action. On the Day of Judgment, Hashem will show everyone the consequences of their misdeeds.

King Shlomo writes: “The way of a fool is right in his own eyes.” Everyone believes that the one who is more righteous than him is a fanatic, and the one who, from his point of view, does not fear God enough is a sinner.

A true hero is only one who defeats his evil side.

1.PS By the way, now I will explain why Shimon chose me as sandak and not the highly respected rabbi. Firstly, it is his feeling of great gratitude, which makes him call me every Thursday for 16 years and ask with hope: “Will you come to us on Shabbat?” In that story, I came up with the idea that he immediately had a son and called me sandak. In fact, this happened two years later. Shimon declared that since this was written, then let it be so in life. Like Yosef, who tried to realize his dreams.

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