Thursday, April 11, 2019

R-Avraham-Hamalach-the-Angel/

https://www.geni.com/people/R-Avraham-Hamalach-the-Angel/327831311350002844
R-Avraham-Hamalach-the-Angel/


né en1740 ou 1741
décédé le 12 Tichri 1776 ou 1777 à Fastov en Ukraine
Rabbi Avraham HaMalach (The Angel) was the son of the Maggid, Rabbi Dov Ber of Mezritch, the Baal Shem Tov's successor and study partner of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi; born in 1740; passed away at age 36 in 1776; known as "the angel" for his saintliness and ascetism.
The Maggid once effected an unprecedented spiritual unification (yichud), which caused such joy in Heaven that he was asked to name his reward. "I didn't do it for a reward," he replied. But when pressed, he asked for a "golden chain" - that is, that all his descendants should be Tzaddikim. His wish was granted.
Through many years of marriage, the Maggid remained childless. After he met the Baal Shem Tov, his master declared that despite his frailty, he would live long and father a son so pure and holy that people would hardly think him human.
Born in 1741, that son was known as Rabbi Avraham the Malach (angel), because an angel appeared to his mother to herald his birth, and because he was as angelically free of temptation as his sainted father.
A Tzaddik's Youth
The only accounts of his youth tell us that R' Avraham learned Kabbalah from the Maggid and the revealed Torah from Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the teacher chosen by the boy's father. R' Shneur Zalman once complained to the Maggid that even during their study sessions, R' Avraham insisted on explaining the halachah and aggadah kabbalistically. "Don't worry," the Maggid reassured him. "You learn your way and he'll learn his. Just show him the outward cloak of the Torah, and he'll show you what lies within."
From his earliest youth, R' Avraham led an other-worldly existence. He would remain in his room the entire day, crowned with Tefillin and engrossed in study. Enveloped in his Tallit, he could neither see nor be seen. Thus he shielded himself from the material world and anything entrenched within it.
R' Yisrael of Rizhin recalled: "When R' Zusia of Onipol uttered HaShem's Name, he was seized with such fear that his limbs trembled, and his blood ran cold. He had to ask HaShem to insulate him against such awe. But my grandfather was an angel who subsisted on nothing more than a pigeon skin a day. His fear of HaShem never left him for a moment."
The Malach's other-worldliness was so extraordinary that when his father sought to find him a wife, he exclaimed, "How can one descend to such physicality?" Only because of the sanctity of the mitzvah did he agree to marry.
A Match Made in Heaven
When R' Avraham's first wife passed away, the Maggid sent two distinguished men of Mezritch to the town of Kremenitz to arrange for his son to wed the daughter of R' Feivel, author of Mishnas Chachamim.
R' Feivel's wife was quite amused by this notion, for she had never heard of the Maggid, and her daughter was only twelve years old. But R' Feivel agreed to the match.
As they wrote the t'naim (engagement agreement), the Maggid's emissaries stressed that the wedding mustn't be delayed. The wedding and week of sheva brachot abounded in rejoicing, festivity and divrei Torah. The bride's mother returned to Kremenitz filled with joy, for she had never seen anything like it.
R' Avraham's new wife was not a simple woman. Twice, she dreamed that a tribunal of distinguished-looking sages wanted to take away her husband, but she screamed and pleaded his case. In the third occurrence of this dream, the court decreed, "Your defenses are so strong that we will allow him to remain with you for another twelve years." The next morning, the Maggid thanked her profusely for her efforts, which had granted his son another 12 years of life. After his death, the Maggid appeared to his daughter-in-law in a dream whenever necessary. One night he told her, "Tell your husband to change rooms, or at least to move his books into your room." Her husband, however, dismissed the matter. The next night, a fire broke out in R' Avraham's room, burning his entire library.
R' Avraham did not succeed his father as the leader of the Chassidic movement. Instead, he settled in Fastov, far from the center of Chassidut, where he lived in isolation. He himself said, "A certain type of Tzaddik cannot lead his generation, for they cannot relate to him. Due to his great intellect, he cannot sink low enough to uplift them."
The Inheritance
The Maggid often warned his son about the dangers of self-affliction. Even after death, he appeared to his son with his strictures, stressing the obligation to honor one's father, even posthumously.
"What do I have to do with you," R. Avraham replied, "my father of flesh and blood? My soul yearns for my exalted Father!"
"My son," inquired R. Dov Ber, "if I am not your father, why did you accept your inheritance?" "I hereby renounce it," declared the Malach. That moment, fire engulfed his house, consuming everything the Maggid had bequeathed him.
Shortly thereafter, on the eve of Yom Kippur, R' Avraham donned the white, silken bekeshe his father had worn on the High Holidays. But when he entered the synagogue, the flame of a lit candle leaped onto the robe and incinerated it. Thus were severed his ties to his forebears and to all flesh and blood. 
Words of Rebuke
When R. Avraham once visited his father-in-law in Kremenitz the whole town came out to greet the wondrous man known to everyone as the Malach. But R. Avraham ignored them and merely stared at a tall mountain. The people anxiously awaited a word from the Malach, but he remained lost in thought.
Among those present was a young mitnagged who was very impressed with his own learning and lineage, and very unimpressed by R. Avraham's strange behavior. Unable to restrain himself, he demanded, "Why are you staring at that mountain for so long? It's only a clump of earth!"
"I am staring in amazement," the Malach replied, "How could such a simple clump of earth be haughty enough to become a tall mountain?"
The young man trembled and squirmed as these words penetrated his heart.
A Very Special Matzah
Every Pesach, R. Avraham baked shmurah matzah for his father, who trusted no one else. One year the Malach sent his father three matzos with one of the Maggid's students, Dr. Gordia. Intrigued by these holy matzos, which he knew were baked with lofty intent, Dr. Gordia couldn't resist taking one for himself and replacing it with one of his own.
At the seder that night, after tasting only a small piece of matzo, Dr. Gordia suddenly felt as if his entire body were burning. "The Rebbe!" he gasped.
The members of his household rushed to the Maggid, who prescribed a remedy. The next day, R' Dov Ber said that only because Dr. Gordia was his doctor had he been allowed to remain alive. Otherwise, the intense kedushah (holiness) of the matzah would have consumed him.
The Appearance of a Tzaddik
The Malach's appearance struck awe in all who beheld him, even other Tzaddikim. One Tzaddik prepared himself for a month before visiting him. The minute he saw R. Avraham putting on Tefillin, he shuddered and fled without even greeting him.
The Baal Shem Tov's grandchildren, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Ephraim and Rabbi Baruch, once came to gaze upon the Malach. Afraid to enter his room, they peeked through a window instead. When R. Avraham arose and R. Baruch looked into his face, he became so frightened that he grabbed his brother and ran, leaving behind his books and his coat in his haste.
Rabbi Nachum of Chernobyl once performed a brit milah, and R. Avraham served as the sandek. A large crowd gathered in the synagogue, eager to see the reclusive Malach. But when he arrived, all but twenty of the people bolted, and the shamash was afraid to speak to him. When the Malach approached the bimah, R. Nachum became so startled that he dropped the mohel's knife, and forgot whether he had pronounced the blessing over the milah. When he returned home, R. Nachum sat down, silent and bewildered. His attendant brought him coffee, and twice he refused, saying: "How can we drink when we know that there is a man who serves HaShem with such loftiness?"
The Malach's Avodat HaShem was very intense. Once, as he prayed, his soul began to depart from his body. R. Shneur Zalman instructed those near him to replace his Rashi Tefillin with those of Rabbenu Tam. Only then did he return to his normal self.
The Malach's Passing
On his final Yom Kippur, the Malach became very weak. By the time of the Neilah service, he could no longer speak. Asked if a message should be sent to R. Nachum, the Malach nodded his agreement. Two days later, on the twelfth of Tishrei, 1776, the Malach passed away.
R. Nachum learned of R. Avraham's death a few days later, on Sukkot. Banging his head against the wall, he cried continuously for two hours. Finally, his chassidim carried him into the Sukkah and said, "Rebbe, remember that today in Yom Tov!" Only then did he regain his composure and recount the Malach's greatness.
R. Avraham lived only 36 years, just long enough - chassidim say in the name of R' Meir of Premishlan - to liberate the soul of the pious Rabbi Yisrael of Rizhin from the "treasure house of souls." R' Yisrael of Rizhin himself believed that his grandfather, R. Avraham, was that rare Tzaddik capable of clinging to his Creator constantly. When Rabbi Moshe of Savran noted that R. Avraham didn't live very long, R' Yisrael retorted, "Irrelevant! One only comes into this world to accomplish what is good for his soul. Once he finishes, he returns to the Source, whence his soul was hewn."
Messages in a Dream
After the week of Shivah, R. Avraham's wife came to Chavastov to receive her husband's bequest. R. Avraham's followers tried to comfort her, but she was inconsolable. That night she dreamed that she entered a great, beautiful palace, where she beheld her husband, his face radiant with joy, and several distinguished-looking elders.
"My wife always complained that I was overly abstemious," he told them, "and she was justified. I therefore beg her forgiveness in your presence."
"You are forgiven wholeheartedly," she replied.
"The Torah allows her to remarry," R' Avraham continued, "especially since she is only 24 years old. I will not prevent her. But if she agrees not to marry another, I will cover all her expenses, and those of her children. And when she comes home, each child will already have an appropriate match."
When she returned home, her children immediately found good shidduchim (matches), and her business improved and provided for all her needs. The Malach continued to appear in her dreams whenever necessary.
When the wife of Rabbi Nachum of Chernobyl passed away, R. Nachum considered taking R. Avraham's widow as his wife. He sent the Malach's son, Rabbi Shalom Shachna, to discuss it with her.
One night, on the way to his mother's home, R. Shalom Shachna dreamed that his father was standing at the entrance to a magnificent palace, his hands reaching its ceiling. "Who dares to enter my palace?!" the Malach shouted. When he awoke, R. Shalom Shachna realized that he and R. Nachum had overstepped their bounds.
His Teachings and Writings

https://www.geni.com/people/R-Avraham-Hamalach-the-Angel/327831311350002844
Some of R. Avraham's teachings appeared in his work Chessed L'Avraham (Chernowitz, 1851, Jerusalem 1997). In line with his departure from the ways of the Baal Shem Tov and the Maggid with his self-mortification, he hardly mentions them in this work. He aspired to strip away the physical outer layers and reach the highest level of Chassidut, "nothingness," by crushing desires and vices and cultivated an extraordinary humility. He vehemently protested against cultivating concrete discussions of lofty concepts derived from the Upper Worlds, for this he saw as a physical embodiment of the spiritual. Thus, the introduction to Chessed L'Avraham railed against those who taught Kabbalah publicly and reduced it to comprehensible terms. Similarly, he viewed attempts to explain the Divine in human terms as a violation of Jewish belief in an incorporeal God.
R. Avraham attributed the decline of the Chassidic idea through the generations to the terrible sufferings of exile, which, ironically, should have propelled the nation towards its Tzaddikim, through whom goodness and perfection reach the Lower Worlds.
The Malach perceived the Tzaddik as central to redemption. The Jews could rise spiritually only by rallying around him, while he in turn would encompass them all and cleave to HaShem.
Despite this image of the Tzaddik as a man of the people who provides for everyone, he himself withdrew from the world allowing no one into his domain. The foundation of Chassidus is the Rebbe, the Tzaddik of the generation; R. Avraham was the Tzaddik without the generation.
The essence of R. Avraham's teachings lies perhaps in two famous sayings. Quoting a prayer recited on Shabbos, "And all who stand erect shall bow before You," he explained, "Only after reaching his full stature can one completely nullify and subjugate himself, and bow to the Eternal."
Elsewhere in the Shabbat liturgy, we proclaim: "There is none comparable to You, HaShem, our God, in this world; and none beside You, our King, in the World to Come...." Said the Malach: "If, Heaven forbid, there were a split-second without Your inspiration and providence, what could this world give me? What pleasure would I derive from the coming of Mashiach or the resurrection of the dead? But if You are here, everything is here; for nothing can compare to You and the great delight and pleasure of Your influence. There is no satisfaction like that which we gain from You."
Forever seeking the satisfaction to be gained from God - this was the way of the Malach, the way of an angel in human form.








Tuesday, April 9, 2019

Caretaker, The (1963)

http://www.screenonline.org.uk/film/id/443431/index.html


Selected filmography[edit]




Caretaker, The (1963)
 
Courtesy of Judy Daish Associates Ltd
Main image of Caretaker, The (1963)
35mm, black and white, 105 mins
 
DirectorClive Donner
Production CompanyCaretaker Films
ProducerMichael Birkett
Screenplay/original playHarold Pinter
PhotographyNicolas Roeg
Cast: Alan Bates (Mick); Donald Pleasence (Davies); Robert Shaw (Aston)
Show full cast and credits
An elderly tramp is taken in as a lodger by a vulnerable young man, whose cynical older brother is less than keen on the arrangement. A power struggle ensues, during which the three characters reveal uncomfortable truths about themselves.
Show full synopsis
After the near-universal bewilderment that greeted Harold Pinter's first play, The Birthday Party, in 1958, The Caretaker became the writer's first big critical and commercial success, and is still his most popular and frequently performed play. First staged at the Arts Theatre in London on 27 April 1960, with Alan Bates, Donald Pleasence and Peter Woodthorpe playing the three roles of Mick, Davies and Aston respectively, the play soon moved to Broadway, where a young Robert Shaw took over the role of the sensitive (and possibly brain-damaged) Aston.
It was in New York that Clive Donner and Donald Pleasence first discussed the idea of adapting the play into a film, and the six-man production company 'Caretaker Films', also including Bates, Shaw, Pinter and producer Michael Birkett, was born. Let down at the last minute by an American financier, they finally raised the money for the film from show-business friends, including Elizabeth Taylor, Peter Sellers and Noël Coward. Such was their faith in the film that all six members volunteered to forego any payments until it went into profit.
The Caretaker illustrates many of the dominant themes in Pinter's work, exploring ideas of identity, class, power and, above all, the elusiveness of language. On every level, Pinter's characters struggle to communicate, misinterpreting each other's words and actions, often to comic effect. But beneath the surface lurks a deep sense of menace. At first it is the tramp who seems to hold the balance of power and to manipulate the weaker brother, Aston, but a short way into the film he soon loses his foothold and becomes the bait of Aston's mercurial brother, Mick.

Donner's film also conveys the underlying bleakness and futility of empty lives, of people at odds with the rest of society. Each character believes in a dream that will change his life. For Davies, if he can only get to Sidcup and retrieve his identity papers his life will be restored, while Aston dreams of building a garden shed and Mick has bourgeois fantasies of transforming the derelict house into a smart penthouse. The issue of class is an underlying theme that runs throughout Pinter's work, through his prose, poetry, plays and the many scripts that he has adapted for film.
Films by Harold Pinter
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The Caretaker 1963
 
Directed by Clive Donner
Starring: Donald Pleasence, Alan Bates and Robert Shaw
Not published as a screenplay
Original play by Harold Pinter
It is a triangle plot: old tramp falls in with two incalculable young men, brothers, fancies himself siding with one against the other, over-reaches himself. Harold Pinter, both in his original play and in the screenplay which with the minimum of alteration he has based on it, has devised a dazzling series of comic and sinister variations. The brothers live in a state of disconnection both from the outside world and from one another; they come and go without purpose, their conversation has no normal relevance to the situation they are in. The tramp is himself a disconnected figure. He has fantasies of belonging to everyday life, getting a pair of shoes from somewhere, doing a job, re-establishing his identity by recovering papers which-I don't know why it should strike on as so risible-have somehow cone to rest at Sidcup; yet every sentence every action marks him as a being who has cut adrift.
 
 
Donald Pleasence and Robert Shaw
The triangle, then is a triangle of solitaires. But they are solitaries in a claustrophobic setting: the attic room crammed with useless junk where one brother sleeps-and offers the tramp a draughty bed. Even on the few occasions when the action moves out-of-doors it is hemmed in; the second brother, giving the old man a lift, merely drives him in a tight, malignant circle round an island; and the dimensions of the screen (no CinemaScope stuff here) increase the sense of enclosure. The fact that though there is no human relation between the three they are forced into a constricted spatial relationship and a visual medium such as the cinema is uniquely equipped to stress this makes them strike sparks off one another. And the climax of the story comes because one of the three, the tramp, partly by accident and partly out of a kind of savagery fails to keep his distance. The second brother may bait the old man, but the baiting merely frightens, it doesn't hurt. It is when nerves are exposed that taunts can't be tolerated.
 
Donald Pleasence and Alan Bates
Mr Pinter offers no message, no moral: and there is no attempt to end on a sentimental image. Perhaps that is why the film is so catching; it looks deceptively undramatic, as if the characters had been trapped unawares, behaving as they might behave in private, illogically, absurdly. In particular absurdly, for on the surface it is a very funny film: slyly funny ironically finny hilariously funny. Yet amidst the jumble of that cold leaky, ridiculous attic you can hear echoes of a different sort. I think " The Caretaker " is about some pretty serious matters: solitude, ingratitude, cruelty. Embodied solitude and ingratitude, and cruelty of course; Mr Pinter writes, as he says, about characters-though they are characters obsessed by their own qualities. And Clive Donner directing with a mixture of sympathy and unobtrusive control, has let the characters betray themselves in their own way-through the actors. This is a single-minded film; you have the feeling that writer, director, producer, cameraman and players have worked in harmony. It would be easy to say that success have on Mr Pleasance as the truculent, ignoble, pathetic tramp, and goodness knows this is a remarkable performance. But Alan Bates' ferociously unpredictable young man can't be faulted either; and Robert Shaw-the impassive bull-head, the air of remoteness of absence almost-makes the famous speech about shock-treatment illuminating in a new, threatening and dreadful fashion. I doubt if you could find a better trio.