husband and wife alike
(he told the father, a lawyer, that he was studying to enter the legal
profession and engaged the lady of the house in a conversation about the latest
fashionable novels, complimenting her on her taste). After the business of
settling upon his fee and hours the tutor would work Adam was introduced to his
new pupil, Michael - a plump, pre-teen brat with a decidedly unimpressed look
upon his chubby face and equally unimpressive intellect.
The parents were happy to accommodate the tutor when he
mentioned that he could start straightaway. Adam suggested that he be allowed
to see some of Michael's previous work in order to assess the level he was
currently at. Furthermore he suggested that, whilst looking over this work, he
set his student a small composition exercise. He asked him to write about his
family, thus giving the tutor an immediate piece of source material to help
insert himself into the favour of his employers. So as not to disturb each
other the tutor mentioned that it would be best if both he and his pupil be
allowed to work in private.
"A good idea," father pronounced, "you're
welcome to use my study upstairs. Michael can work in his bedroom next
door."
"Would you like anything to eat Mister Duritz?"
"No, I do not want to put you to any trouble Mrs
Goldman. And please, call me Adam."
"It will not be any trouble. I can get Thelma to make
you something," the motherly, mothering, Mrs Goldman replied, without
making the point that it was fine for Adam to call her Deborah.
"As long as it's no trouble. A sandwich would be fine.
Thank you."
Within fifteen minutes the student was loosening his tie in
the heat, wolfing down a beef and onion bagel and drinking cold lemonade.
Although he was excited by the prospect of his new position, upon travelling to
the house - meeting the family, playing a part and making the right impression
- the moody student nevertheless came back down to earth. It was just another
job. The family ultimately looked down on him as staff. He felt out of place
and would have to suppress his pride. There was no daughter of the house and
his pupil was just another lazy, spoilt cretin. Again Duritz felt weary,
frustrated, that his genius did not deserve this paltry existence. He should be
touring Europe, writing a book, being noticed. Life was unfair.
It took the tutor all of five minutes to go through the
folders of work involving different subjects before he formed his judgement
concerning the child. He took a few minutes inspecting his employer's study but
there was little of interest. He yawned and finished his sandwich and lemonade.
As delicious as his supper was, however, his body craved some chocolate - or
some of the sugared pastries that his mother made which melted in the mouth -
to finish off his meal and lift his spirits. Adam took a pencil and some
notepaper from the lawyer's bureau and started to doodle and then draw a couple
of caricatures of his new employers in the style of Pushkin. After finishing
off a couple more cartoons, in which he turned the Goldman’s into a peacock and
bald-headed eagle respectively, the irritable student ripped up all of the
pictures and threw them in the bin, dissatisfied as he was with them. He yawned
again and burningly thought to himself, whilst exercising his memory at the
same time,
‘To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.’
The sound of laughter outside attracted his attention as if
the voices were wind chimes. The ‘music’ emanated from the garden next door to
the house. The breeze from the window fanned his face but nothing could cool
the instant
(he told the father, a lawyer, that he was studying to enter the legal
profession and engaged the lady of the house in a conversation about the latest
fashionable novels, complimenting her on her taste). After the business of
settling upon his fee and hours the tutor would work Adam was introduced to his
new pupil, Michael - a plump, pre-teen brat with a decidedly unimpressed look
upon his chubby face and equally unimpressive intellect.
The parents were happy to accommodate the tutor when he
mentioned that he could start straightaway. Adam suggested that he be allowed
to see some of Michael's previous work in order to assess the level he was
currently at. Furthermore he suggested that, whilst looking over this work, he
set his student a small composition exercise. He asked him to write about his
family, thus giving the tutor an immediate piece of source material to help
insert himself into the favour of his employers. So as not to disturb each
other the tutor mentioned that it would be best if both he and his pupil be
allowed to work in private.
"A good idea," father pronounced, "you're
welcome to use my study upstairs. Michael can work in his bedroom next
door."
"Would you like anything to eat Mister Duritz?"
"No, I do not want to put you to any trouble Mrs
Goldman. And please, call me Adam."
"It will not be any trouble. I can get Thelma to make
you something," the motherly, mothering, Mrs Goldman replied, without
making the point that it was fine for Adam to call her Deborah.
"As long as it's no trouble. A sandwich would be fine.
Thank you."
Within fifteen minutes the student was loosening his tie in
the heat, wolfing down a beef and onion bagel and drinking cold lemonade.
Although he was excited by the prospect of his new position, upon travelling to
the house - meeting the family, playing a part and making the right impression
- the moody student nevertheless came back down to earth. It was just another
job. The family ultimately looked down on him as staff. He felt out of place
and would have to suppress his pride. There was no daughter of the house and
his pupil was just another lazy, spoilt cretin. Again Duritz felt weary,
frustrated, that his genius did not deserve this paltry existence. He should be
touring Europe, writing a book, being noticed. Life was unfair.
It took the tutor all of five minutes to go through the
folders of work involving different subjects before he formed his judgement
concerning the child. He took a few minutes inspecting his employer's study but
there was little of interest. He yawned and finished his sandwich and lemonade.
As delicious as his supper was, however, his body craved some chocolate - or
some of the sugared pastries that his mother made which melted in the mouth -
to finish off his meal and lift his spirits. Adam took a pencil and some
notepaper from the lawyer's bureau and started to doodle and then draw a couple
of caricatures of his new employers in the style of Pushkin. After finishing
off a couple more cartoons, in which he turned the Goldman’s into a peacock and
bald-headed eagle respectively, the irritable student ripped up all of the
pictures and threw them in the bin, dissatisfied as he was with them. He yawned
again and burningly thought to himself, whilst exercising his memory at the
same time,
‘To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.’
The sound of laughter outside attracted his attention as if
the voices were wind chimes. The ‘music’ emanated from the garden next door to
the house. The breeze from the window fanned his face but nothing could cool
the instant
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