How we cite our quotes: Story Number.Paragraph
Quote #4
I always argue with my Golde: "Golde," I say, "you are sinning! We have a midrash —"
"Who cares about a midrash?" she says. "We have a daughter to marry off, and after that daughter, kayn eyn horeh, there are two more, and after the two—three more, may no evil eye befall them!"
"Ah, don't worry your head about it, Golde! Our sages also prepared us for that. We have a midrash on that too—" (5.2-4)
(Okay, so first, a little Shmoop brain snack for ya. Midrash is the tradition of rabbis writing explanations—sometimes really long, really creative and imaginative, and always deeply philosophical explanations—of Torah verses. Basically, taking a small snippet from the Torah and figuring out a whole thing about its meaning and relevance to Judaism.) Anyhoodle—here are a couple of different takes on duty. Tevye wants to look dutiful. He worries not just about religious, but about looking like he is religious to others. Golde, meanwhile, is more concerned about actually getting the duty done.
Quote #5
[Perchik] ate at my house, and in exchange he tutored my daughters. As it is said: An eye for an eye—a slap for a slap. He became like a member of our family. The children would bring him a glass of milk, and my wife made sure he had a shirt on his back and a pair of mended socks. We started calling him Fefferl, the Yiddish version of the Russian Perchik [which means "little pepper"], and it is safe to say we all loved him as one of our own. (5.40)
So here, this reads as just a cutesy-poo thing that they kind of semi-adopt this guy. But check it out in context with the part in Story 8 where Tevye says he had to hire someone to recite the kaddish for the dead Golde because he has no male children to perform this religious rite for her. That kind of kicks the meaning of this adopted son up a notch, right?
Quote #6
[…] when it came time to say goodbye, they were all wailing—the mother, the children, and even Hodl herself. […] I alone was like steel and iron. That's easy to say, steel and iron. Inside I was more like a boiling samovar, but for anyone to see it—feh! Tevye is not a woman. […] Well, that was too much for me. I could no longer control myself. I remembered this same Hodl when she was still a baby and I held her in my arms…in my arms… Forgive me, Pani, for acting like a woman. I must tell you what sort of daughter Hodl is! You should see the letters she writes. She is a gift from God! She is right here…right here…deep, deep…I cannot begin to say it… (5.146-153)
Wow, that's pretty moving, no? Are we getting a new little window on Tevye's relationship with his family in all that love and pride and sadness or was all this deep feeling apparent before? Or—given that he's evidently getting pretty stage-y with his gestures—is he maybe just performing his grief for an appreciative audience?