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September 13, 2006
Seraphic Duel via Rashomon
The continuing story of the author's love for his wife, Karen. It began when Robert was 9-years old, in the fourth grade in Yeshiva Flatbush. It's a long story and this series will continue for—well, actually, I have no idea how long it will go on. I guess until I finish telling the tale.
I'm looking into the eyes of a perfectly decent man, and I'm thinking of challenging him to a duel. A duel to the death.
Seriously.
DISSOLVE TO:
A half-hour earlier.
Karen and I have just seen a wonderful film, one of my favorites, Akira Kurosawa's modern classic Rashomon, a tale that unfolds in multiple visual and moral dimensions. This masterpiece takes one violent episode, isolates it, and then tells the story from several points of view — in the process, exposing the vanity and lies that motivate the principal characters.
Never before in the history of film have flashbacks been used to such provocative effect. Ultimately, the 8th century Japanese landscape mutates into a complex moral fable in which the following questions are posed:
Who is telling the truth?
What is the truth?
What is a woman's honor worth?
And in this landscape, a moral allegory unfolds where:
A husband's love for his wife is tested, and a wife's love for her husband.
Karen adores this film. Unlike The Seven Samurai, my very favorite film of all time, which bored her to tears, Karen is riveted by Rashomon's relentless narrative drive. Its moral and psychological complexity suit her perfectly.
We have been going out for several months now. So close have we grown that I can actually read Karen's body language even in the velvety dark of a movie theater. By her very breath I can tell if Karen likes a movie or wants to flee.
EXT. MANHATTAN, PIZZA SHOP - NIGHT
Karen and Robert have exited the movie theater. They WALK and TALK along Broadway, but we cannot hear their conversation.
An old fashioned musical interlude, perhaps Cole Porter's Night and Day, indicates that this romance is blossoming. The lights of the city sparkle and glow like a modern fairy tale.
The happy couple halt at a kosher pizza shop.
Karen: Hungry?
INT. PIZZA SHOP - NIGHT
Minutes later.
Quick CUTS:
The usual suspects for a kosher pizza joint: A booth full of yeshiva high school BOYS grossly devouring pizza, pita, fries, and eyeing --
YESHIVA GIRLS --
Adorable in their identical long jeans skirts, lady-like nibbling at the edges of their slices and making a big deal out of not looking at the boys.
A YOUNG COUPLE --
with screaming babies in tow. He's got his head buried in a Mishnah, and wifey is just barely coping.
KAREN & ROBERT --
are alone in a booth. Robert eats, while Karen sips tea. They smile at each other.
Robert: Boy, am I relieved.
Karen: And if I didn't like Rashomon?
Robert shrugs.
Robert: No biggie.
Abruptly, Karen's attention wanders. She sees something off-screen, more precisely, someone, entering the pizza shop. Her expression changes. It's hard to tell what she's feeling.
Robert: You okay?
Karen: Someone just came in.
Robert turns, sees MAX, young modern Orthodox, brimming with self-confidence, Burberry raincoat jauntily slung over his arm.
Robert: Who's that?
Karen: Max.
Karen takes a shallow breath, then:
Karen: We used to go out.
CAMERA MOVES IN ON ROBERT's expression -- as he desperately attempts to cover his shock and dismay.
Time seems to stop.
Robert puts down his slice. He stares at the oily film dripping from the pizza onto his finger. Suddenly, he's no longer hungry. In fact, he' slightly nauseous. Robert looks up again —
ROBERT'S POV:
SLOW MOTION as Max makes his way to the front counter.
The Yeshiva Girls take notice. They whisper to each other and giggle. He is good looking. Tall, dressed in an expensive suit, Max cuts an impressive figure.
END SLOW-MO.
Robert: How long did you, you know, go out with him?
Karen: About six months. No, more like eight months.
Robert: Oh boy.
Karen rises.
Robert: (brightening) We leaving?
Karen: I want you two to meet.
CLOSE-UP: ROBERT -
The last thing he wants is to meet Max. And so he takes a stab at Lame Tactic #1.
Robert: Actually, I'm getting a migraine, we should —
Karen: Robert.
There is a brief duel of eyes.
No contest. Robert retreats faster than the French army.
Robert: Okey-dokey.
Now, Robert watches helplessly as Karen steps over to the counter. Sensing Karen's presence, Max turns. His expression immediately brightens as he finds himself face-to face with his old and very beautiful girlfriend.
Robert's VOICE-OVER: He's still in love with Karen. It's soooo obvious.
Karen and Max chat, but Robert cannot hear what they are saying.
Max turns, looks directly at Robert.
ALL SOUNDS in the pizza shop abruptly FADE as the two men stare at each other. There is perfect silence as their eyes bore into each other like drills.
Gradually, we HEAR a rising THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.
This is Robert's heart beating in his chest like a trapped animal. The dull thumping grows louder and louder as their eyes DUEL back and forth.
SHARP CUT:
KAREN and MAX -
are standing over Robert who's still in the booth, looking in Max's direction. But obviously, a few moments have passed. Robert, ambushed in his emotional turmoil, has lost track of both time and space.
Karen: Robert, Max.
Max: Nice to meet you, Robert.
Robert: Um, yeah, you too.
There is an uncomfortable silence.
Max and Karen sit. Max picks up the thread of his conversation with Karen from the counter — which does not sit well with Robert.
Max: So Karen, the topic for your dissertation, you were saying?
ROBERT'S VOICE-OVER: Max is talking about Karen's choice of topic for her doctorate. I haven't had that conversation with Karen yet, sheesh...
CLOSE-UP: KAREN -
Smiling, as she explains to Max what she's been working on. Her VOICE is but a murky undertone reflecting Robert's hapless POV.
Robert's VO: (cont'd.) Oh my gosh, she's smiling at him. I know what's happening here. Karen realizes that Max is better looking than I am, better dressed, better educated, has much more money, far better prospects, and —
CLOSE-UP: MAX -
Smiling...
Robert's VO: (cont'd.) — and she's going to dump me. Oh my gosh, what am I going to do?
EXTREME CLOSE-UP - KAREN
Her face is softly lit and her beauty is just breath taking. Karen's gaze moves away from Max, and now her eyes pin Robert with the most penetrating gaze this man has ever experienced.
Robert's VO: (cont'd.) I know what I have to do. I'll kill Max. But nicely! I'll challenge him to a duel.
EXT. FOG SHROUDED VALLEY - DAY
For a brief moment, WHITE SCREEN, and then the whiteness shifts, for it is fog.
The thick mist parts to reveal:
Robert, clad in classic 18th century European military attire, is about to meet Max on a field of honor.
KAREN, in a flowing silk and taffeta gown, stands at the edge of the field, dabbing at tears. Helplessly and hopelessly, she watches this tragic duel of honor unfold.
Max unsheaths a frighteningly sharp sword. He unfolds a snow-white linen handkerchief, flings it up in the air, and with lightning speed--SWISH--with one wickedly casual flick of the sword, slices the handkechief in half
Robert's eyes widen in shock. Max twirls his mustache and smirks.
Max's SECOND, a rigidly proper and dignified aristocrat, approaches Robert to agree on the terms of the duel.
The Second speaks in rapid-fire FRENCH.
Robert: Hold it, I don't speak French!
JUMP CUT:
Robert: Did you know that Marcel Proust, this sickly, little effeminate French novelist, fought a duel of honor?
Our VIEW WIDENS to REVEAL that we are back in the PIZZA SHOP. Karen and Max look at Robert, both a bit baffled by what he's just said.
Max: That's really, um, interesting. Is that something you're working on?
Robert: What do you mean?
Max: Well, Karen tells me that you're a screenwriter. Is this a story you're working on?
Robert: (obviously hostile) No, it's not.
Another horribly awkward pause.
Karen studies Robert for a long moment; trying to gauge the level of his mental health.
Robert: When did Karen tell you that I was a screenwriter?
Karen: Robert, weren't you listening, we just said --
Robert: Sorry.
Max jumps in, trying to save the moment.
Max: Movies. That sounds so interesting. Not like my work.
Robert: What do you do, Max?
Max: I — I just told you.
Robert: Right. So you did. I guess I drifted.
Max: I suppose that's what you creative types do; you get inspiration and just get lost in your thoughts.
Robert: Actually, I never get inspired. I think of myself like any working shlub. I get up, go to work, grind away, and some days are good, some days are bad. The whole notion of inspiration is just romantic nonsense.
Max: Wow, had me fooled. Learn something new every day.
Robert's VO: As hard as I try, and golly, do I ever try, I just cannot hate Max. He's good and decent and even though I'm completely obnoxious he does not allow himself to be provoked. He's a mature gentleman. Which really, really baffles me for I have to ask myself: why would Karen choose me over Max?
FADE TO BLACK
INT. PRIVATE STUDY - NIGHT
Robert sits in an easy chair looking directly into the CAMERA and speaks.
Robert: So I'm looking into the eyes of a perfectly decent man, and I'm thinking of challenging him to a duel. I don't know what came over me. I mean, I know that Karen went out with other men before she met me. That was obvious, but it's not something we ever talked about. It's not something I ever thought about. They were faceless men who meant less than nothing.
But suddenly I was confronted with a real live breathing human being. And how do I react? Like a homicidal maniac. I want to, ahem, murder the poor man.
How not normal is that?
You know what happened after we left the pizza shop? Big fight with Karen? Nope. Long talk? Nope. Big interrogation on the part of yours truly? Wrong again.
Here's what happened: nothing.
Zilch.
Max exited the pizza shop. Max exited our life.
I said: "Nice guy."
Karen said: "Uh-huh."
And we never spoke of him again. Ever.
Until now.
FADE to BLACK for this is
Karen adds: The irony of Robert's scenario is that we have spun our own Rashomon. I read the story, and I was shocked. I had no memory of the incident. I only recalled running into Max by accident on the street while I was walking on the Upper West side with Robert. We exchanged a few words and that was it. The human mind is scary.
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at September 13, 2006 01:45 PM
Comments
Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.
1. No profanity.2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism. That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.
Robert:
Going to a kosher pizza shop and suddenly getting the desire to kill someone is a common and understandable human reaction. I have struggled to overcome this urge many times, and while I have always been successful in keeping my cool, there is always the next time.
Posted by: Jake at September 14, 2006 06:46 AM
Wonderful addition to your magnum opus! Of course, like most great period pieces, it had a small anachronism just to keep us on our toes:
"A YOUNG COUPLE --
with screaming babies in tow. He's got his head buried in an Artscroll Mishnah"
No Artscrolls back in those prehistoric days!
Posted by: Elie at September 14, 2006 06:46 AM
I giggled my entire way through this! Robert, you are sooooo human and real. (It amuses me).
I need to rent Roshomon. I think I'd love it.
P.S. to Jake: Your comment had me roaring.
Posted by: Stacey at September 14, 2006 07:20 AM
"Hold it, I don't speak French!"
That had me ROTFLMAO!
What a great surprise to wake up to a Robert loves Karen story. Thanks!
Posted by: cruisin-mom at September 14, 2006 07:23 AM
Jake is right, every time I have ever been to Nagila Pizza I feel like shooting someone. Truth be told, it is because of the parking.
And speaking of duels, is it just me or does it seem like any day now that maniac in Iran is going to challenge Dubya to some kind of duel.
First it is a debate and the next thing you know it is sidearms at the crack of dawn.
Anyway, I love these "How Robert met Karen" stories. They just make me smile
Posted by: Jack at September 14, 2006 07:35 AM
And you said you're so bad in remembering names...! Or is Max a pseudonym?
Thanks for the story and the style in which you relayed it.
--Fade to Black --
Posted by: Pearl at September 14, 2006 07:49 AM
Robert -- you're just like Walter Mitty, only more successful. I used to read about duels in the regency romances like Georgette Heyer.
Have any of your children inherited your tendences -- and writing talent?
MH
Posted by: mata hari at September 14, 2006 08:12 AM
1832: Évariste Galois and (possibly) Perscheux d'Herbinville; Évariste Galois, the French mathematician, died of his wounds at the age of twenty.
Knowing that he was going to fight a duel the next morning, Galois stayed up much of the previous night writing important mathematics down for posterity. Many mathematicians over the years have wondered whether it might have been better if he had just got some sleep and then won the duel.
Posted by: Michael Jennings at September 14, 2006 08:14 AM
Jake:
Perfectly understandalble. However, may I recommend treatment. I happen to know a very fine psychologist...
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.seraphicpress.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at September 14, 2006 10:01 AM
Elie:
Thanks so much for the "Artscroll" correction. I have made the cut. Odd, isn't it? Feels like Artscroll has always been with us.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 10:15 AM
Stacey:
I'm glad that my, ahem, reality keeps you amused and giggling.
As for renting "Rashomon." You must. But try and find a good copy--preferably the Criterion edition. Their DVD is crystal clear and the subtitles are beautifully rendered.
I have seen rentals that are so murky they look as if they have been dipped in mud, and the subtitles are practically indecipherable.
Anyway, do get back and let us know what you think of the film.
Thanks so much for writing.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 10:24 AM
Cruisin-Mom:
Stayed up late last night with this thought in mind:
"Seraphic Secret has been awfully heavy on the politics lately at the expense of our most popular series, "How I Married Karen."
"Wouldn't it be a nice surprise for our readers to wake up in the morning to a whole new chapter--especially, Crusin-Mom, AKA Two-Gun Randi, and Toronto Pearl, AKA Pearlies of Wisdom."
So: where's my babke?
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 10:32 AM
Like Zell, I too wish we were still in an era of duels. But not for the same reason. Here's my thinking: if we still had duels, at least some of us would have a fighting chance. These days, two guys could be arguing over a shopping cart and one will pull out a gun and blow the other away without warning, paces, anything...
Posted by: ralphie at September 14, 2006 11:05 AM
Jack:
Nagila parking problems?
Seraphic Solution is at hand. Casa Avrech is just a five minute walk from Nagila. You can park in our driveway. Just write me an e-mail and let me know when you'll be coming. It's time we met face to face.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 11:50 AM
Pearl:
"Max" is a pseudonym. His real name is... Actually, I forgot:)
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 11:55 AM
Mata Hari:
You ask: "Have any of your children inherited your tendencies -- and writing talent?"
Our children are blessedly free of my, um, dreamy homicidal tendencies.
However, they all have a way with the English language--in their own unique way.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 12:00 PM
Michael:
Thanks for filling us in on this particular duel. I can always count on you for some obscure but delightful sliver of information.
It was a lively debate among duelists and their advocats whether it was better to get a full night's sleep the night before the duel, or stay up and pray, or party hard, thus mentally prepare oneself for the coming ordeal.
In all the research I have done on duels,and duelists--and it is considerable--I have never seen the slightest suggestion that writing mathematical equations was a proper use of time.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 12:11 PM
Too bad Évariste Galois didn't spend enough time pondering this simple, but extremely important, math equation before his duel: "2-1=1"
Posted by: Jake at September 14, 2006 12:19 PM
Ralphie:
I have read case histories where as the men were pacing away from each other, one duelist would turn and shoot the other in the back.
There were also numerous cases of Seconds "fixing" the pistols so they would misfire, thus the unfortunate Duelist would be at a distinct disadvantage.
In short, your yearning for a return to duels of honor is perfectly understandable, but please be aware that there is no guarantee of honor -- especially when dealing with dishonorable men.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 12:21 PM
Hooray! Thank you Robert!
It is so true. I think writers remember the strangest things (myself included) that our loved ones didn't give a second thought to. I have friends that tease me about my memory for random moments but inability to name a singer/#1 hit song combo.
Thanks for this! Already can't wait for the next.
Posted by: Leah at September 14, 2006 01:43 PM
Yes, Randi, where's the babke!? Can you overnight some to me? I need to know what a West Coast babke tastes like.
Robert, it's nice to know that you think of your Seraphic Friends into the wee hours of the night...
[BTW, earlier this week, I gave Avi's grade 6 English teacher my paperback version of the HK. She plans to read it to the class of boys and study it with them--she remembered me mentioning it to her over a year ago, and sought me out through my son.]
Posted by: Pearl at September 14, 2006 03:33 PM
Leah:
Yup, it's called the "Rashomon Effect"--how people share the same experiences yet remember them in entirely different ways. Or don't remember them at all.
Already planning the next chapter. Keep tuned.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 04:55 PM
Pearl:
Always thinking of my audiences. Hollywood does that to you. None of that starving artist and art for arts sake in Casa Avrech.
Let me know how the kids like the book. I'll bet they just love Chapter Nineteen.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 04:59 PM
Where's my babke, where's my babke...you people are tough.
Posted by: cruisin-mom at September 14, 2006 05:30 PM
This is so over the top! I know the proper posture at the shooting range is feet shoulder-width apart, shooting hand supported by other hand, but ... do you ever... y'know ... turn sideways and shoot with one arm fully extended?
I can sort of picture you watching Karen watch Rashomon. Precious.
Posted by: Jeremiah at September 14, 2006 05:47 PM
Cruisin-Mom:
We're a tough audience. Well, gee, welcome to The Biz.
I want my babke. Yesterday!
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 06:00 PM
Our Jeremiah writes:
"This is so over the top!"
Gee, you really think so?
That happens to be my life you're talking about. And here I thought I was living the most normal, boring life in the history of the middle class.
I almost always stand like Shane at High Noon, one arm extended, grimly gunning down assorted bad guys. The Weaver Stance and the Isosceles Triangle are for pussies.
Watching Karen watching me is better than watching Kurosawa.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 06:10 PM
Our Robert writes: "... the most normal, boring life in the history of the middle class."
Problem...? Solution: throw a white bearskin rug down in your study.
Description of Flaubert from Penguin Classics web site: Usually to be found laid out on a white bearskin rug in front of a great fire, simply dreaming. Otherwise, pacing the room, waving his arms, sweat pouring down his face, bellowing out his latest sentence, a whole afternoon's work, his green eyes ablaze with excitement.
Posted by: Jeremiah at September 14, 2006 07:31 PM
Seraphic Solution is at hand.
I am tempted to write my own jingle, but if I take Jake's line again he has threatened to send a host of lonely, overtired mathematicians to make me an equation I cannot refuse.
I just might have to take you up on the offer of the Casa Avrech driveway. Of course full disclosure requires that I admit that I live within walking distance of LA Pizza and the once famous home of Drexlers.
Posted by: Jack at September 14, 2006 09:05 PM
Jeremiah
The most famous bearskin rug photo in Hollywood: http://www.silverscreenphotos.com/item.jhtml;$sessionid$WCLRJMAAAAKPXTZENUGUTIWPERWRJPX0?UCIDs=540987&PRID=235066
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 11:14 PM
Jack:
Do not mess with Jake. He is big and scary. You know of course he was on Columbia U's ferocious football team, dontcha? We're talking the frightening Ivy League League.
There is a sign in the Casa Avrech driveway: "Reserved for Seraphic Friend Jack."
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 14, 2006 11:19 PM
Robert, you had me in stiches once again.
Karen, isn't it a little scary discovering now the stuff that was going through your true love's head when you thought he was just spacing out?
Both of you, I also love the movie Rashomon, and am sad to see that when I refer to it in a conversation, my interlocutor often has no clue what I'm talking about.
And please add me to the list of fans who go to sleep yearning to wake up to the next installment!
Posted by: Sara at September 15, 2006 12:10 AM
And Randi, one of the unfortunate consequences of this summer's war is that there's now a serious shortage of babke in Jerusalem. Could you perhaps do your bit for Zionism...?
Posted by: Sara at September 15, 2006 12:12 AM
If you want tough, you have to go to the Far Rockaway high school football team. In the words of Rodney Dangerfield: "After they sack the quarterback, they'd go after his family."
Posted by: Jake at September 15, 2006 07:01 AM
Sara, you got it...one babke, 1 million babkes...what's the big deal.
Posted by: cruisin-mom at September 15, 2006 08:53 AM
Sara:
Yes, when I space out--the results can be pretty frightening. Glad you enjoyed this installment.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 15, 2006 10:04 AM
Oh lovely. I was picturing the entire thing onscreen as I went, without realizing it. Hoofbeats and all.
Posted by: uberimma at September 15, 2006 12:09 PM
Uberimma:
Hey, maybe I should try screenwriting. Have a lovely Shabbos.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at September 15, 2006 04:24 PM