Renia's Diary

by Renia Spiegel

  All three of them told me that if I don’t go to the party, they wouldn’t go either, so I said that I would prefer to feel better and go, and that they should go too.

  They’ve been gossiping terribly about Nora, those brats. I’m curious what they want from her (leg, stocking, nose). They’ve been at loggerheads with Maciek for a while. I was angry at him and today he paid me back for this wrongdoing out in town. Maciek is as good as an angel, he could be jealous, but no.

  JANUARY 23, 1941, THURSDAY

  Irka insists that I write something in her diary. In verse, of course. I’ll try.

  JANUARY 27, 1941

  I didn’t finish the entry last time, because Norka came over. Then there were visits from Poldek and Maciek, and Nora with Irka. It varied; sometimes it was nice, sometimes boring (and once there was even an unpleasant situation).

  On Saturday Zygu was supposed to come, but he didn’t, because his mother arrived.

  And me? I live off memories; I’m astounded that I remember his every word, every smile, every face he pulled. When I remember something new, it feels like … I don’t know myself. I can’t talk or think of anything else. It’s becoming a real mania.

  Yesterday Uncle Maciek (whom I like very much) went for a visit to theirs. He loved Zygu—himself and his behavior. Zygu left two notebooks in the room, so he knocked, apologized and went in to pick them up.

  God! Why are they telling me all of this? As it is, I can barely control my heart, which wants to jump out of my breast. Irka already says quite directly that Zygu’s in love with me, but I don’t believe it, no! I don’t believe just yet! That’d be a miracle! And I already … God, God, God, please! And you, Buluś …

  JANUARY 30, 1941

  Today … Today was a good day. First at school … well, nothing important. In the afternoon there was a LOPP exam (Airborne and Antigas Defence League)* and naturally I, not even knowing what Osoaviakhim† was, decided to try. Zygu trained me a bit. He came after his exam but before mine. He was wonderfully sweet and there are no words in the world to describe his eyes. He kept talking to me, laughing, paying me compliments (he’s so witty) and at some point he grabbed my chin (that’s his tender gesture) and he almost k … me, but I gently pushed him away (perhaps next time. Lord God! Buluś!).

  I said that eating hen meat spoiled my skin, to which Maciek replied that a rooster would sort me out. Maciek is a pig. He even called Zygu over and repeated the joke to him. And I? I pretended not to understand.

  During my exam Cukierman was cracking up.

  I have a new rival, Dziunka. Today she noticed that we like each other (when we were cuddling on the bench). She was furious and eager to mess things up. Poor me. Haven’t I been in her shoes once? But now I can tell you that I’m in a better position and, God willing, if fate allows, it’ll get even better? Well? Well? Well?

  FEBRUARY 1, 1941

  It was a so-so day. He was sweet, talked to me, we were even supposed to go to Irka’s together, but he was ready to go home and he was tired.

  There is something very friendly, very intimate. But he is so proud (why wouldn’t he be if everybody keeps suggesting that I’m his?). Bloody rascal, he didn’t even want to invite me to sit down. He laughed, saying that when I see him in his gray shirt, what then? Ah, Buluś, Buluś, help me.

  Irka has given me this to cheer me up and for good luck. It looks funny phrased like that, but what do I know?

  FEBRUARY 4, 1941, TUESDAY

  It was a strange day today. Nora had an argument with Maciek—she cried. Krela yelled at me. She really had a go at me. It’s all her fault anyway. He was just staring and staring, which paralyzed me.

  In the morning Zygo stroked my face in front of Irka, Tuśka and Ela, he took my face into his hands and called me Renusia. I just had a thought that he did it on purpose, to flummox me. Briefly everything seemed to be going well. He took me under my arm and said, “Why don’t you want to be the president? I worked so hard to get you on the board!” Then he sat down with me, pulled my hood off my head and we talked all the time. Then Krela had a go at me for various reasons but mainly because I talked during the meeting. Zygu consoled me and said that Krela told him off too. And when Krela said, “Let’s see who could be the husband killer in Lilies?”* he said, “Renusia” (damn this “Renusia”!), “You are not good for a husband killer.” And “I want to be Rena’s son” and this and that and I started thinking that he was mocking me, which really unnerved me.

  He didn’t wait for me, he didn’t say goodbye—as if he wanted me to follow him. But, actually, what’s my problem? He was sweet after all. And if he wanted to make fun of me? God, You know how much that would hurt! He just stared and stared, which paralyzed me.

  FEBRUARY 5, 1941, WEDNESDAY

  I’m so blue! I’m so low. I’m in love and mocked by the object of my love. I even cried. Such a blow. And so well aimed. I’ve taken offense. I’ve heard Zygu telling Maciek, “Rena is angry at me.” He said that to me at school and I confirmed. Angry, is that what it is?! I’m not angry, I’m very, very sad and concerned. He told me this awful, “Look at how she holds her leg, just like Nora does.” When he said “Renusia,” I instinctively turned around, immediately. And then he said that I was angry. I heard him saying on purpose that Irka was pretty. I heard it all and I cried, not with tears, but I could feel those tears inside me, stifling me, flooding my heart. Mama! I felt so bad, so very bad! But love’s stronger than anything and when I went sad, Zygu laughed and said, “Rena, what is it?” So, trying to pull an offended face, I laughed. If he really mocks me like that, if he really says it, then …

  I will draw two tiny hearts

  two hearts linked by love

  and a wide black arrow or dart

  that pierces the red buds from above

  One heart will be true and full of life

  honest and hot—that one is mine

  the other one I’ll make alive

  I’ll give it love to drink like wine

  I’ll feed it smiles and happy noise

  I’ll feed it words, gentle touches and looks

  I’ll give it silly things (the most precious joys)

  my unsatisfied dreams flowing down brooks

  It will be bright like radiant sunshine

  It will be red like a pretty poppy

  And then when the other’s ready to decline

  The red one will whisper, “Yes! Let’s be happy.”

  Pavements move, glide ahead

  as do stars, tarmac and streetlights

  I sleepwalk around the city

  embraced by silver moonlight

  I wander around, looking, looking

  into infinite depths I stare

  Is a tiny love seedling

  perhaps hiding somewhere in there?

  Don’t worry, no matter, there, there

  Not everything will be surely lost

  “Why do you cry, silly girl?

  It’s perfectly normal, don’t be cross.”

  Oh, cry as much as you like

  Perhaps sobbing’ll make you weary

  You might forget and sleep’ll strike

  I cling to hanging ropes, it’s scary

  to trees, wires, bells a-ringing

  I cling to church bell towers

  to thunder’s and lightning’s stinging

  I go there, into the sky, into starry showers

  fueled by unearthly force, kind of

  I go, I fly, I soar

  Oh, I am so much, so deeply in love!!!

  Strange thoughts tremble inside

  cloudy, half-sleeping, dreary

  jumbled into a nightmarish ride

  wobbly and clumsy and blurry

  spring water comes as if from a gutter

  there are red, juicy berries

  and this misguided, drunken thought—water

  The lips’ effort is a futile flurry

  The effort of brain throat cracked dry lips

  Words don’
t want to sound out

  Nobody hears the lamenting apocalypse

  Just those entangled thoughts all out

  Splashing of water, forest-grown berries

  And this unspoken out loud

  Word—water—that carries!!!

  For once in my life I’m surely allowed

  To ride the vehicles of airstreams

  To crack, to whoosh, to shine through clouds

  to fly straight to the stars that gleam

  For once in my life I’m surely allowed

  To speed merrily through celestial expanses

  To climb rainbows, moons and clouds

  To roll down with the morning dawn, to take chances

  For once in my life I’m surely allowed

  To enjoy this thrilling ride

  To jump onto a star in style

  to look at the stars from the other side

  For once in my life I’m surely allowed

  To get lost in this crazy love

  To love with passion and with pride

  Even if … this love is not returned …

  FEBRUARY 7, 1941, FRIDAY

  Oh! It’s so much better! It’s almost good. I’ve had a long conversation with him in the red corner. And somehow my heart tells me that he went to town because of me (though how he walked—God, have mercy on him). And I had to leave him in the midst of it and go study Polish. Such is life (ish). But I’m not complaining at all. I would just like it to open its wings and frrr …

  Maciek tells me today, “Aurelia S., née Spiegel … I’d like the two of you to get married, because I like you and I like him.” So I tell him, “What’s that to you? You would be a friend of the house,” to which Maciek says, “Yes, and perhaps you might get bored in time…” No, I couldn’t get bored with Zygu! Everybody likes him so much that I think I might go crazy with jealousy! Lord … don’t abandon me, and you, dear Mama!

  FEBRUARY 8, 1941, SATURDAY

  Today is Saturday, February 8, I had a sweet day. At school Zygu assured me that he would vote for me, as he’s a member of the jury, and that he would give me all possible points. Later, after the match I waited for him and we walked together. Together, you hear? There was this other boy walking too, but he didn’t count and left soon anyway.

  When we got to the red corner, one of my numerous rivals soon left. I couldn’t count all those looks he gave me. But he does it in a kind of conspiratorial way, as if not wanting me to notice. Eh! He’s a wonderful boy, the prettiest in the school! Please, God and Buluś, let it continue in such manner, like this …

  And now I need to get busy. I have a poem to write, praising Mickiewicz. I should write it, but am I able to? Will my words be worthy of the man? I’m not sure if I can, I doubt … but still … perhaps …

  Mankind erects a shrine to your memory

  It is to be worthy of you, it is to thrive

  It is to look at the world with reverie

  to grow, make you famous—be alive!

  It is to proudly soar into the sky

  fueled by burning love and admiration

  to become a symbol and a cry

  of what you used to call liberation

  To be a beacon for the world

  To last for years, for centuries

  An endless memorial is unfurled

  Huge, powerful, in your memory

  At its top there is a place of yours

  To look down on earth below

  To see what you suffered for

  And what you loved even more.

  FEBRUARY 10, 1941

  Today is Sunday, February 10.* The Teich girl has found out about my love and told me, “I would prefer if you were to fall in love with Maciek. Because Zygu is handsome, wise, intelligent, but he’s no good and he’ll really wear you down. He’s this and then that, and you’ll never know why.” Yes! God, the second part rings so true. No good, oh no! Zygu, you? You are the best, best, best, best.

  FEBRUARY 11, 1941, MONDAY*

  Lord God, my poor Mama is so far away! Poor her, it’s bad there, she’s all on her own. I would very much like her to come to us, as I have a big problem and I’m so sad, and that terrible person is wearing me down! The Teich girl was right. He tortures me morally, he simply exercises me: contracting and stretching. Today he took offense over what? Over nothing—he pulled a sweet face and I went into the classroom first and only then approached him. And not the other way round. Naturally he didn’t come to the rehearsal in the afternoon and after the rehearsal he sent me such a look that blood curdled in my veins with fear. And then he yelled, “Leave it!” to Poldek, so that … well. God, what does he want? Zygu, have mercy, why do you tease me so much?! Stop it, I can’t take it anymore! Holy God, help me!

  FEBRUARY 12, 1941, WEDNESDAY

  Mama can’t come; it’s so bad there, famine. Zygu’s angry with me, doesn’t come to the rehearsals. God! God! Help me!

  FEBRUARY 13, 1941, THURSDAY

  Hooray! I have to force myself to explain everything properly to you. There were apologies at school. But how? As if nothing had happened. He approached me, embraced me so sweetly and we had a good talk which lasted the entire break. The whole school could see us, damn it! People were pulling idiotic faces. The Teich girl was laughing under her breath. Zygo came to the rehearsal and then we went, I mean, I and him, to the red corner. Elu came too and we laughed our heads off; it was very nice. And then I talked to Zygu on my own (ah, those newspapers, what fuss), then Stela came, my number one rival. Of course I understood her mood. So then I say to Zygu to go and we went. Waldek, sweet, poor Waldek, he’s a bit not right in the head, he wanted to leave us alone and go on his own, but I didn’t let him. We said goodbye in town. And then I was left with Zygu. I met our Norka, Belka, Helka and other people from town. We talked about most trivial things in the world (thank God for the existence of Kubrakiewicz). Then I met Maciek, Poldek and Julek. Maciek almost gave me a peck in the middle of the street, as a joke. Of course he was full of jibes about Zygu and me. Then we walked on our own again and again talked about nice things. In fact I don’t know if that’s how it’s going to be till the end of the world? Do you have such ordinary conversations? I need to ask. At some point Zyguś thought I took offense. “Renusia, are you angry at me?”

  Zyguś walked me home and we made plans to go to the movies on Saturday.

  Oh, I lived today! Nothing … but still … Buluś, you helped me, I feel better now, even though tomorrow he might still be angry at me. And I’m so ugly—how can I be attractive? Wonderful Zyguś, don’t be angry at me, be good, like today and … even better. Mama, if you could only see him! Keep helping me, Buluś, and You, God …

  FEBRUARY 14, 1941, FRIDAY

  I’m such a stupid idiot, a moron and the rest! I’ve arranged to go to the movies with Zygu. And I meant to go with him on Saturday, but I went today with Maciek and Poldek. Ah! I understand Zygu. I would take terrible offense too. God, what am I going to do? Will we go to the movies or perhaps to a concert or nothing at all? “I know I am worth the punishment,” but … not quite—I wanted to know what the film was about to explain everything to him. And everything went topsy-turvy. I had good intentions, but it turned out so, so badly. Lord, I’m scared of tomorrow! Help me, God, and you, Buluś …

  FEBRUARY 16, 1941, SATURDAY*

  I’m trembling all over today. No, it wasn’t a terrible Saturday, though it didn’t promise to be too good. I went to a match. Zygu first pretended he didn’t see me and invited Irka to sit with him, inquiring (so that I could hear him), “Irka, are you going to the concert?” and when she asked him whether he wasn’t going to the movies, he replied, “What good is a movie today?!” And I felt so bad, so terrible, so awful …

  The first breaking of the ice took place when he pulled my hood off my head. He was still a bit angry. But later everything went well, wonderfully well! We walked together (he adjusted my hair in the street), then at Irka’s and later at the concert—this was the culmination. N
o, not yet, no. But at the concert we sat together on one and a half chairs, ah! And we talked all the time and I realized how wonderful, how gentle, how decent he is! All the time together, a wonderful Saturday afternoon together. He walked me home, him and another one, and … when he was saying his goodbyes, he held my hand in such a way; he held it and said, “Bye, Renusia.” And then I said suddenly, surprisingly, as if it wasn’t me, “Bye, kitten.” And still, it was me. God! I said this, this fire which has tormented me for so long suddenly leaped out and congealed together, forming this one word. And Zyguś … He laughed (perhaps even a bit glad?), he laughed so wonderfully …

  We were supposed to go to the movies tomorrow, but he just said, “12 o’clock tomorrow, in town.” Tomorrow, ah! Thank you, God and you, wonderful Buluś, and you, Zygu, for this Saturday.

  For me now nothing matters

  boredom, rumpus, scandal, chatters

  physics and mathematics

  little Purcel’s mad dramatics

  Auntie Józka with meniscus

  Salcia and Breit and hibiscus

  Krela with her big mouth

  all other creatures about

  they don’t matter to me now

  I’m also not bothered to even look

  what grades I have in the mark book

  I yawn terribly in the classroom

  thoughts filled with doom and gloom

  Good or bad ways are not a thing

  one thing that matters—is loving

  I wrote this today at physics, in secret—isn’t it wise?

  Today I had this flutter inside

  I was taken over by this strange tide

  Everything pulsated and twitched

  Today my heart was bewitched.

  FEBRUARY 16, 1941, SUNDAY*

  I didn’t want to tell you at all that Z was out in town with his buddies and I was with Julek K. and we pretended not to see each other and this idiot didn’t even approach me. I didn’t want to tell you that this other one, the one who walked me home with Z and already interfered once—remember? He is in love with me! What a fine kettle of fish! Wait a second, and Zygu? I can’t say either way—it’s a very strange story. I just wanted to tell you that something terrible is happening to me. Some dark, crude force is seizing me. I keep looking for ambiguity in everything, I can be easily persuaded when I can’t see, can’t I? I’m reading Tuwim’s poems, also the indecent ones. I wrote in Irka’s diary.