Seattle 79, or Jabberwocky

Last night, two houses hosted Shabbat - a sushi-making party for the young'uns at Aleph, and a more casual standard Shabbes at Gimel. I hopped between the two, snagging a salmon, albacore, avocado and tofu roll, leading Kiddush, meeting new people and snuggling on Aleph's couch, then heading for Gimel, with its small, quiet crowd of regulars. We immediately went for the couches and rocking chairs by the fire, and sat, as grownups do.

As I felt myself getting sleepy, I curled my feet next to Asya, rested my head on the end of the couch and asked, "Joel? I'm in the mood for a bedtime story. Can you recite Jabberwocky for me?"

Last month at the open mic, Debs read a story involving the famous nonsense poem, and Joel had let slip that he knew the whole thing by heart - it was his bedtime story for years. I knew he'd tell it well, probably just as it had been told to him.

" 'Twas brillig," he began, eyes alight and eyebrows bouncing,
"and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."

Then, rocking his chair forward, and causing it to emit a loud creaking, he put his face close to mine, but looked out at Debs, who was mouthing the words along with him. As he recited the next section, she got up from her chair and began to mime,

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

We had to stop for a minute and laugh at Debs, who was making claws of her hands and angling them at Joel and me. But then Joel continued, and Asya made her appearance into the mime:

"He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back."

Debs fell on the floor with her legs in the air, and pulled her sweater over her face to mime her execution. Asya galloped around the coffee table triumphantly, sword raised over her head, imaginary head tucked under her arm. I cracked up, but kept my eyes on Joel for the triumphant stanza, which Debs and I recited with him:

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy."

And as the room quieted, Joel went back for the repetition of the first verse, just as quietly as it had come,

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."

The assembled crowd broke into applause, and Asya and Deb bowed. Joel pensively scratched his chin and wondered aloud, "Do I still know the Walrus and the Carpenter?"

Immediately, Deb (not Debs) and I recited,

"The Time Has Come, the walrus said,
To Talk of Many Things -
Of Shoes, and Ships
And Sealing-Wax
and Cabbages and Kings
and Why The Sea is Boiling Hot
And Whether the Pigs Have Wings!"

Then Asya recited the Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock (Eliot), I followed up with one of Shakespeare's sonnets, and a slam poem (not my own). There was some kind of magic in the room, generated by a group of generally overeducated and underemployed intellectuals who really, sometimes, need to forego the intense politicking of Kibbutz life and just...tell bedtime stories.