The taunting is “lite” because it better fits the narrative flow. In order to keep the story and protagonist relatable, the situation needs to resemble the real experiences the reader will draw from. Your slaughterhouse incident, though it seems more malevolent than the narrator’s treatment here, is still closer to Babel’s treatment of this pulse than the proposed more on-the-nose alternatives in that it begins with an implied threat, not direct force. As you mention, our brains are always storytelling, and that applies to these would-be bullies. Before they enact direct force by way of epithet or physical violence, they first test the waters — to make sure the proposed victim will actually be a victim, and to keep room for escalation.
I think the "lite" taunting, the type which is described in the pulse, would be a better option, because, technically, it would allow for more escalation. Also, we can see that from the previous pulse, that when it comes to what the quartermaster says to the Cossacks that the narrator "has suffered on the fields of learning" they're not listening, they're virtually their own self-governing entity, not caring a bit for authority, and, as long as they're savage against their enemy, they're going to be fine, Savitsky won't do a thing against effective troops, as he would be operating on a moral plain of amorality.
This is to say, that in that environment, the Cossacks can be at ease in their own selves, they can appear, for instance, much like Chimpanzees being at ease in grooming their fellows, but, at the next instant, they can be something else entirely, threatening an outsider. I think the clincher in this "lite" version of taunting, is the fact that the older Cossack, presumably the person most respected amongst his platoon, narrates the flaxen haired Cossack's flatulence act and, thereby, gives not only approval to the performance, but, also, allows for future acts of disturbance and, as it escalates, abuse upon this outsider, the narrator. The narrator, for this particular army is vastly more disposable and useless than a platoon of Cossacks.
For something to be threatening, one doesn't need a lot of overt threat, one needs only see an intent from the one doing the threatening and no dissension from the others; the way Babel describes the torment avoids melodrama, and it gives the narrator time to 'cook', as it were, (while he indeed smells food cooking); in fact, it has already escalated: they're stepping on his legs, as he attempts to read Lenin's words. This allows for a kind of escalating inner tension for the narrator, which forces the him to act.
Oh! that rainbow field is giving me Tulip Fever....Will I ever see those fields in Holland?...April the beauty must be close at hand again. My! my! my! Antonina is beautiful and writes with clear depth about her gifted husband. Love is always worth seeing on a dual carriage way^^
p.s. The more I reread pulse 3, the more I wonder at the narrator. He erupts into violence after he is interrupted while trying to read his "beloved sentences." You, George, did not try to surreptitiously scribble notes for a short story while working in the slaughterhouse. The narrator seems to feel privileged and oblivious of his real life circumstances. It is a little idiotic to be insisting on reading something, even if it is Lenin's prose, just as he is being introduced into a group of people who have not had his advantages it seems. So I think that Babel has created a very telling (disturbing) situation in pulse 3. It is after all called "My First Goose."
Thank you, George, for the chance to get caught up and thank you for sharing your experience in the slaughterhouse. It reinforces the truism that often the best training for a writer is the real world. In pulse 8, I paid attention to your statement about the interest of a character who has multiple motivations, which got me to thinking about the interest of multiple inconsistencies/fault lines in a character. To answer the question you posed, George, about how I would write this pulse (Cossacks torment a guy), I don't know but I think that what Babel is doing is very effective. He is setting up a seesaw. Our "hero" is down on the ground after the various indignities inflicted upon him but his actions in response with the elderly woman and the goose seem more brutal than that in keeping with the childish Cossacks. But maybe that is the point. Babel wanted to show this imbalance. There is something in the character of the narrator, or in the nature of human beings, that permits him (us) to react with excessive brutality, and that readers need to question in themselves.
Babel must have experienced some bullying, mustn't he, to write this? Or is that too much of an assumption? The taunting lite seems like the group, a formed group, are testing the water to see how this new thing that's landed in them will cope with their idea of themselves that they've built up. They're putting out little feelers and noticing how each reacts and how the narrator reacts and it's a little dance.
When I was a college freshman at a small state school, I remember how, in order to enter the "food hall" we had to walk through a phalanx of guys who would shout out each girl's level of attractiveness, from one to ten. It was terrifying. That memory just popped into my brain while thinking about our narrator meeting the Cossacks. I probably went into the food hall and got out my copy of George Eliot (bespectacled English major), but was thinking about my ranking.
I'm getting to Pulse 3 very late so need to read all your comments, dear Story Club members!
Re Babel’s revisions, I read in the introduction to my copy of his collected stories, that one day a friend visited and, seeing a large pile of papers on Babel’s desk, said he hadn’t realized Babel was writing a novel. Babel said no, those were the twenty most recent versions of his latest story.
My version of "the Cossacks torment a guy" might go something like this:
One of the Cossacks sauntered up to me, his shaving tool balanced between his forefinger and thumb. Stipples of hair and lather dripped from the edge of the blade. He snorted. You barely have a beard yet. Are you just as hairless between your legs? Three of his comrades erupted in cackling. Should we look? they asked each other. They formed a triangle in front of me.
I'm wondering about why something more violent doesn't happen, for me it seems to replicate the sometimes subtle nature of bullying. The soldiers seem like schoolboys, throwing his things, farting, excluding him from conservations. This seems to have a drip by drip effect on the narrator, the background noise makes him unable to focus on his book. Note how he doesn't attempt to joke with them, fart back, meet them on their level, which a different character may. For me, the pulse reflects masculinity, the tests male groups place on one another. It came as a surprise to me that he then pushes the woman in the chest with his fist (isn't another word for this punch?) This wouldn't have had the same impact for me if the soldier's had already been violent. Rather, for me, it seems to show how slight unkindness leads to greater unkindness. Just my thoughts anyway. (Honestly though, I hadn't even realised he was farting, when I first read the story I thought he was belching whilst the narrator has more polite manners!)
The soldiers need to be just menacing enough to reflect the precarity of the narrator's position, ( by extension that of most Jews living in Poland with its history of pogroms. Yet, had the Cossacks attacked him violently the narrator would, to win their respect, have been required to do much more than kill a goose. Even then, as Mikhaela notes, the narrator's cruelty is disproportionate to the offence. It's born of hunger, loneliness and perhaps a kind of despair regarding the communist ideal of universal fraternity. Interesting that, post-humiliation, he turns to the writings of Lenin, and fails to find comfort or inspiration.
It is said...never look a lion in the eye. The goose was dinner simply because it was the weakest thing at arms length to prey upon. George's experience in the Slaughter House was a stronger example of extreme bullying and that beyond sharp knife is a silvery glint of menace in my mind. Any new member of an established group is usually fair game until lines are redrawn. Babel's example holds a rich tale of detail and nuance to weave a story into a beautiful fabric of visual events.
"Why might this “lite” taunting be a better choice than something more overt and violent? What possible faults does it sidestep? What does it enable?"
I think the 'lite' taunting is a decision that reflects the decision to have the quartermaster (and not Savitsky or the Cossacks) offer the piece of information about ruining the nice lady - it ensures that the narrator can not abrogate his agency and guilt/shame at the decision he goes on to make (from Savitsky, the info would have been an implied order, from the Cossacks, an implied threat). And now, after this harmless hazing - a series of minor inconveniences - we still don't have the 'extenuating' circumstances that will justify the narrator's future actions, i.e. the teasing he endured is not enough to pardon him the ruining of the old, blind lady and the slaughter of her goose. If there had been real menace in these Cossacks, surely one of them would have kicked him when he was down on his hands and knees salvaging his scattered manuscripts? It would have been easy and anonymous.
In this sense, I don't share the conclusion that our narrator is a "human being taxed to the breaking point", i.e. to the point where "[i]t seems he couldn’t have done otherwise". I think the quartermaster and the 'lite' torment help to create the ambiguity that is necessary for the narrator's actions (and consequences) to be his alone. And that's a more interesting story for me - the narrator keeps his agency and both suffers (languishing) and is rewarded (legs tangled) for it.
I think our “hero” sees himself as a cut above these soldiers- in class or social status. He takes his job seriously- look at his reading material! So the farts are a great choice and typical of testing out with crude humour, what this spectacled learned man is up to. They prick his pomposity- thank goodness it is only with farts…..
I’m a retired nurse and many years ago when I was a student, when we had finished a ward placement, there would be a nasty ritual. Typically a bath often filled with various sorts of gunk eg KY jelly etc into which you would be unceremoniously plonked while in your uniform. You would then traipse off the ward in borrowed pyjamas or theatre scrubs carrying a bag of wet clothes. We accepted this as entirely normal and it was important not to protest too much- just the right amount of protesting was required.
The taunting is “lite” because it better fits the narrative flow. In order to keep the story and protagonist relatable, the situation needs to resemble the real experiences the reader will draw from. Your slaughterhouse incident, though it seems more malevolent than the narrator’s treatment here, is still closer to Babel’s treatment of this pulse than the proposed more on-the-nose alternatives in that it begins with an implied threat, not direct force. As you mention, our brains are always storytelling, and that applies to these would-be bullies. Before they enact direct force by way of epithet or physical violence, they first test the waters — to make sure the proposed victim will actually be a victim, and to keep room for escalation.
Hi All,
I think the "lite" taunting, the type which is described in the pulse, would be a better option, because, technically, it would allow for more escalation. Also, we can see that from the previous pulse, that when it comes to what the quartermaster says to the Cossacks that the narrator "has suffered on the fields of learning" they're not listening, they're virtually their own self-governing entity, not caring a bit for authority, and, as long as they're savage against their enemy, they're going to be fine, Savitsky won't do a thing against effective troops, as he would be operating on a moral plain of amorality.
This is to say, that in that environment, the Cossacks can be at ease in their own selves, they can appear, for instance, much like Chimpanzees being at ease in grooming their fellows, but, at the next instant, they can be something else entirely, threatening an outsider. I think the clincher in this "lite" version of taunting, is the fact that the older Cossack, presumably the person most respected amongst his platoon, narrates the flaxen haired Cossack's flatulence act and, thereby, gives not only approval to the performance, but, also, allows for future acts of disturbance and, as it escalates, abuse upon this outsider, the narrator. The narrator, for this particular army is vastly more disposable and useless than a platoon of Cossacks.
For something to be threatening, one doesn't need a lot of overt threat, one needs only see an intent from the one doing the threatening and no dissension from the others; the way Babel describes the torment avoids melodrama, and it gives the narrator time to 'cook', as it were, (while he indeed smells food cooking); in fact, it has already escalated: they're stepping on his legs, as he attempts to read Lenin's words. This allows for a kind of escalating inner tension for the narrator, which forces the him to act.
Oh! that rainbow field is giving me Tulip Fever....Will I ever see those fields in Holland?...April the beauty must be close at hand again. My! my! my! Antonina is beautiful and writes with clear depth about her gifted husband. Love is always worth seeing on a dual carriage way^^
p.s. The more I reread pulse 3, the more I wonder at the narrator. He erupts into violence after he is interrupted while trying to read his "beloved sentences." You, George, did not try to surreptitiously scribble notes for a short story while working in the slaughterhouse. The narrator seems to feel privileged and oblivious of his real life circumstances. It is a little idiotic to be insisting on reading something, even if it is Lenin's prose, just as he is being introduced into a group of people who have not had his advantages it seems. So I think that Babel has created a very telling (disturbing) situation in pulse 3. It is after all called "My First Goose."
Thank you, George, for the chance to get caught up and thank you for sharing your experience in the slaughterhouse. It reinforces the truism that often the best training for a writer is the real world. In pulse 8, I paid attention to your statement about the interest of a character who has multiple motivations, which got me to thinking about the interest of multiple inconsistencies/fault lines in a character. To answer the question you posed, George, about how I would write this pulse (Cossacks torment a guy), I don't know but I think that what Babel is doing is very effective. He is setting up a seesaw. Our "hero" is down on the ground after the various indignities inflicted upon him but his actions in response with the elderly woman and the goose seem more brutal than that in keeping with the childish Cossacks. But maybe that is the point. Babel wanted to show this imbalance. There is something in the character of the narrator, or in the nature of human beings, that permits him (us) to react with excessive brutality, and that readers need to question in themselves.
Babel must have experienced some bullying, mustn't he, to write this? Or is that too much of an assumption? The taunting lite seems like the group, a formed group, are testing the water to see how this new thing that's landed in them will cope with their idea of themselves that they've built up. They're putting out little feelers and noticing how each reacts and how the narrator reacts and it's a little dance.
When I was a college freshman at a small state school, I remember how, in order to enter the "food hall" we had to walk through a phalanx of guys who would shout out each girl's level of attractiveness, from one to ten. It was terrifying. That memory just popped into my brain while thinking about our narrator meeting the Cossacks. I probably went into the food hall and got out my copy of George Eliot (bespectacled English major), but was thinking about my ranking.
I'm getting to Pulse 3 very late so need to read all your comments, dear Story Club members!
Wonderful discussion.
Re Babel’s revisions, I read in the introduction to my copy of his collected stories, that one day a friend visited and, seeing a large pile of papers on Babel’s desk, said he hadn’t realized Babel was writing a novel. Babel said no, those were the twenty most recent versions of his latest story.
David Kligman
My version of "the Cossacks torment a guy" might go something like this:
One of the Cossacks sauntered up to me, his shaving tool balanced between his forefinger and thumb. Stipples of hair and lather dripped from the edge of the blade. He snorted. You barely have a beard yet. Are you just as hairless between your legs? Three of his comrades erupted in cackling. Should we look? they asked each other. They formed a triangle in front of me.
I'm wondering about why something more violent doesn't happen, for me it seems to replicate the sometimes subtle nature of bullying. The soldiers seem like schoolboys, throwing his things, farting, excluding him from conservations. This seems to have a drip by drip effect on the narrator, the background noise makes him unable to focus on his book. Note how he doesn't attempt to joke with them, fart back, meet them on their level, which a different character may. For me, the pulse reflects masculinity, the tests male groups place on one another. It came as a surprise to me that he then pushes the woman in the chest with his fist (isn't another word for this punch?) This wouldn't have had the same impact for me if the soldier's had already been violent. Rather, for me, it seems to show how slight unkindness leads to greater unkindness. Just my thoughts anyway. (Honestly though, I hadn't even realised he was farting, when I first read the story I thought he was belching whilst the narrator has more polite manners!)
The soldiers need to be just menacing enough to reflect the precarity of the narrator's position, ( by extension that of most Jews living in Poland with its history of pogroms. Yet, had the Cossacks attacked him violently the narrator would, to win their respect, have been required to do much more than kill a goose. Even then, as Mikhaela notes, the narrator's cruelty is disproportionate to the offence. It's born of hunger, loneliness and perhaps a kind of despair regarding the communist ideal of universal fraternity. Interesting that, post-humiliation, he turns to the writings of Lenin, and fails to find comfort or inspiration.
It is said...never look a lion in the eye. The goose was dinner simply because it was the weakest thing at arms length to prey upon. George's experience in the Slaughter House was a stronger example of extreme bullying and that beyond sharp knife is a silvery glint of menace in my mind. Any new member of an established group is usually fair game until lines are redrawn. Babel's example holds a rich tale of detail and nuance to weave a story into a beautiful fabric of visual events.
Does the goose represent his first major obstacle or moment in this assignment? First of many?
"Why might this “lite” taunting be a better choice than something more overt and violent? What possible faults does it sidestep? What does it enable?"
I think the 'lite' taunting is a decision that reflects the decision to have the quartermaster (and not Savitsky or the Cossacks) offer the piece of information about ruining the nice lady - it ensures that the narrator can not abrogate his agency and guilt/shame at the decision he goes on to make (from Savitsky, the info would have been an implied order, from the Cossacks, an implied threat). And now, after this harmless hazing - a series of minor inconveniences - we still don't have the 'extenuating' circumstances that will justify the narrator's future actions, i.e. the teasing he endured is not enough to pardon him the ruining of the old, blind lady and the slaughter of her goose. If there had been real menace in these Cossacks, surely one of them would have kicked him when he was down on his hands and knees salvaging his scattered manuscripts? It would have been easy and anonymous.
In this sense, I don't share the conclusion that our narrator is a "human being taxed to the breaking point", i.e. to the point where "[i]t seems he couldn’t have done otherwise". I think the quartermaster and the 'lite' torment help to create the ambiguity that is necessary for the narrator's actions (and consequences) to be his alone. And that's a more interesting story for me - the narrator keeps his agency and both suffers (languishing) and is rewarded (legs tangled) for it.
Sidebar on the big D...
https://www.villagevoice.com/2019/07/04/feodors-guide-joseph-franks-dostoevsky/
I think our “hero” sees himself as a cut above these soldiers- in class or social status. He takes his job seriously- look at his reading material! So the farts are a great choice and typical of testing out with crude humour, what this spectacled learned man is up to. They prick his pomposity- thank goodness it is only with farts…..
I’m a retired nurse and many years ago when I was a student, when we had finished a ward placement, there would be a nasty ritual. Typically a bath often filled with various sorts of gunk eg KY jelly etc into which you would be unceremoniously plonked while in your uniform. You would then traipse off the ward in borrowed pyjamas or theatre scrubs carrying a bag of wet clothes. We accepted this as entirely normal and it was important not to protest too much- just the right amount of protesting was required.