How we cite our quotes: Story Number.Paragraph
Quote #7
Seeing that the devil was doing his work, I hitched up my horse and sped to town for a doctor, the best doctor I could find. I arrived home—dear God! My Golde was already laid out on the ground with a candle at her head, looking like a small mound of earth that had been swept up and covered with a black cloth. (8.10)
Wow, talk about commitment to ritual. Are you getting this? This woman got up from her deathbed to set up a candle and cover herself with a cloth before dying? Wha??? Oh, wait. Maybe someone else came in and found her in the house. Still, we wouldn't put it past her.
Quote #8
Considering the kind of pleasure I'd had from children, I thought, maybe Eretz Yisroel might be better. Idiot! Why was I staying around here, and for whom? […] Besides, Pani Sholem Aleichem, I've always been drawn to Eretz Yisroel. I've longed to be at the Wailing Wall and at the tomb of the Patriarchs, at Mother Rachel's Tomb, and to see the River Jordan, Mount Sinai, and Dead Sea, the cities of Pithom and Ramses, and other such places with my own eyes. My imagination carried me away to the blessed land of Canaan, the land flowing with milk and honey. (8.97-98)
Right, so first, a little Shmoop brain snack—"Eretz Yisroel" means "Israel" in Hebrew. When Podhotsur suggests Tevye get over to America, Tevye takes this as a huge insult—but the exact same command to go away works pretty well when the destination is this mythical place that's at the heart of all the midrash that Tevye loves so much. Talk about going to the source.
Quote #9
I came home to find, not a house, but a wreck, the poor walls bare, as if they were shedding tears for all that was happening to them! […]
"You're crying because you're sad to leave your home. You were born here and grew up here, and so you are sad. Believe me," I said, "if I weren't Tevye, if I were somebody else, I would kiss these bare walls and these empty shelves. I would get down on my knees on the earth. I will miss every little thing the same as you." […]
"Papa, I am not talking about our leaving. I am talking about our Chava." (9.54-62)
Are we supposed to be moved that Tevye is so attached to this house? Or are we meant to be reminded of his callousness, or at least cruelty, in being more moved at losing it than at how he's totally cut a child out of his life? Or—wait for it—both?