THE GREAT WORKS OF JEWISH FANTASY AND OCCULT
Compiled, translated and introduced by Joachim Neugroschel
 

THE MARE*
MENDELE MOYKHER-SFORIM
Introduction by Mendele the Book Dealer
I, Mendele the Book Dealer, say unto you: Glory be to the Creator, Who, after making the great universe, took counsel with the angelic hosts and finally fashioned a small world, namely man, who is known as the microcosm for combining within himself - if you take a close look - all manner o f creatures and animals. You will find in him all species o f wild beasts and all breeds o f cattle. You will find a lizard, a leech, a Spanish fly, a Japanese beetle, and similar creeping and crawling pests. You will even find a demon, a devil, a satan, a fiend, an imp, a Jew-baiter, and similar hellhounds, hellcats, and freaks. You can also view wonderful sights in him: a cat toying with a mouse; a fox sneaking into a chicken coop and twisting the necks of the poor fowls;. monkeys aping everything and everybody; a dog prancing and wagging its tail for anyone who throws it a crust of bread; a spider inveigling a fly, entangling, enmeshing it, and then sucking it dry; gadflies hounding you and buzzing your ears off; and similar wondrous things. But that's neither here nor there. Praised be the Good Lord, Who silently contemplates everything taking place in this microcosm and yet never makes mincemeat out o f him; Who keeps His temper, endures the transgressions, and shows great benevolence to sinful man. In short, what I am leading up to is to tell you about the vast grace that God bestowed upon me, a poor sinner, after punishing me a bit.
Dear Reader, my equine hauler had trotted on to greener pastures! My horse kicked the bucket! My loyal nag, who had been in service since time immemorial, laboring with devotion and knowing nothing more than our books; who had been a renowned expert in all roads, with an unfailing memory for all taverns; who had traveled about with me to nearly every corner of the Jewish globe and was well known in all our Jewish communities. This equine being, this horse, had met with a dreadful demise in Dumbsville, during spring, on the Jewish holiday of Lag b'Omer! It wrenches my heart to talk about it, but poverty is no disgrace - the poor thing died of hunger! Its usual fodder was chaff, with occasional crusts of dry bread that I purchased from beggars. Ah, woe betide the poor dobbin that winds up with a Jewish book-peddler! It hauls and hauls, laboring perhaps even harder than the beasts dragging heavier goods. But all that the poor thing gets to eat is garbage, and all that a Jewish book-peddler gets to eat is garbage, so that he and his wife and children starve to death a dozen times a day!
But that's neither here nor there. 
God punished me and I was left without a horse. I didn't even have the wherewithal to buy another, and yet I had to get to the
county fairs. I felt awful!
And as I sat there, down in the mouth, along came a friend of mine. He walked straight up and said:
"Mr. Mendele, would you like to buy a mare?"
"Of course I would," I moaned, "but what am I going to do for money?"
"Bah!" Lie said. "Don't worry! You won't have to lay out a kopek! Maybe they'll even advance you something. Why, everyone knows how honest you are."
"If that's the case," I said, "I'd be delighted to buy the mare. Right now! C'mon, let's go and have a look at it!"
"You can save yourself the trouble o f going anywhere," he replied. "I have the mare right here, on me!"
"What do you mean, right here?" I asked him in surprise.
"Right here, under my coat," he smiled.
"You're pulling my leg!" I said, exasperated. "Get yourself another victim. I'm in no mood for jokes."
"Me pull your leg? God forbid!" he said and pulled out a huge bundle of paper from inside his coat. Look, Mr. Mendele, the whole thing belongs to a friend of mine. You'll find his name right here on the manuscripts. And one o f these pieces, you see, is entitled The Mare. The author himself is . . . (may you be spared) sort of, well. .. confused... not quite all there. And his friends are very anxious to have his stories printed and distributed. Now who else could we have chosen for the task i f not you, Mr. Mendele, who are so famed among Jews. We would like you to look over these papers and put each story in the right shape - we'll trust to your judgment. And the first story we want you to print is The Mare. We'll discuss the terms later. I'm sure you'll be satisfied. If you need any money now, we can give you some on account. Well, what do you say, Mr. Mendele?"
"What do I say?! With all my heart and soul!" I exclaimed, practically jigging for joy.
After attending to all my business matters, I eagerly tackled the mare - put her into shape, divided her into chapters, and gave each chapter a fitting title - a drudgery for which some people would affix their names to a manuscript and call themselves authors.... In short, I spared no pains, l did my duty faithfully.
And now, my friends, a few words about the mare.
The Mare is written in a lofty manner, the style o f the ancients. Each reader will comprehend it in accordance with his intelligence and on his own level. For people on a surface level, it will simply be a lovely tale, and they will envoy the plot. But those on a deeper level will also find an allusion, an application, to us sinful human creatures. I, for example, on my level, found in it nearly all Jewish souls, all our beings, and the secret of what we are doing in this world. I am convinced that during your perusal, a number of you, each according to his nature, will be unable to help himself and will ardently call out: "Why, that's an allusion to Mr. Yossel!" Or: "Oh! That's a reference to Mr. Nathan! Mr. Zalman-Jacob! Mr. Hershke!" Or else: "Hey! I've discovered the secret behind our kosher-meat tax, our philanthropists, and all our behavior!" And so on.
I submitted a question to the rabbinical judiciary in Dumbsville, and the local bigwigs. Since I had promised my readers that I would put out a sequel to my play The Kosher-Meat Tax, I was virtually under oath and as good as committed.
"Now what does the law say, gentlemen?" I asked them. If I put out my 'Mare' now, would that count as fulfilling my promise?"
They mulled and mulled, the poor men, scratching and scratching their heads, and at last they pronounced their verdict.
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Mendele, having had a sniff, a whiff, o f the essence of your Meat Tax, we would be most willing to release you from your oath. May your equine surrogate be reckoned in all due value as an equivalent of your having fulfilled your promise in all good faith and published an additional section to The Meat Tax, with all the particulars. By all means: The Mare, according to all opinions, will be an excellent way o f keeping your word!"
How grateful am I to God! If I had gotten the mare without any advance, just to buy myself a horse, that would have sufficed. If I had gotten her with an advance and she had not had something o f the essence o f the Meat Tax, that would have sufficed. I f she had had something o f the Meat Tax and the rabbinical judiciary had not released me from my vow, that would have sufficed. l f the rabbinical judiciary had released me from my vow and not scratched their heads so much, that would have sufficed. I f they had scratched their heads so much and I would not have known the reason, that would have sufficed. If I had known the reason and not comprehended that the mare was something to scratch one's head about, that would have sufficed.
How much more then am I grateful to the Lord that I found the mare, and with an advance to buy a horse, and that she had something o f the essence o f the Meat Tax, and the rabbinical judiciary released me from my vow, and scratched their heads so much, and I know the reason, and comprehend that the mare is evidently something to scratch one's head about, an atonement for our sins.
That, my dear readers, is what I was after in my brief introduction. Out o f the abundance o f the heart, the mouth runneth over!

On the 29th day of Elul, on the bookwagon, between Dumbsville and Yawnstown.

Yours truly,
Mendele Moykher-Sforim
(Mendele the Book Dealer)
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