The Black Spider (New York Review Books Classics) by Jeremias Gotthelf

Author:Jeremias Gotthelf
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2013-10-08T06:00:00+00:00

* * *

“What, there in the black piece of wood?” the godmother cried out, leaping up as if she’d sat on an anthill. She’d sat right before that post in the room. And now she felt a burning in her back and spun about, looking behind her and rubbing her hand up and down, unable to free herself from the fear that the black spider was sitting there at the back of her neck.

The others too found their hearts constricted as the grandfather fell silent. A great silence had come over them. No one dared utter a mocking word, but neither was anyone eager to agree with what had been said; each preferred to hear what the others said first and to choose his own words accordingly; thus does one mistake oneself the least. And now the nurse came running, having already called them several times without receiving a response, her cheeks burning bright red as if the spider had crept across them. She began to scold, complaining that no one wanted to come no matter how loudly she called to them. A most peculiar business she found it: cooking and then finding oneself unable to coax the guests to table, and later when the food was no longer good, the blame would fall on her, she knew quite well how that went. Such rich meats as now were set out on the table could no longer be eaten once they’d gone cold; it would even be unhealthy to do so.

Now the company rose to follow, but they moved slowly, and no one wanted to be first at the door; the grandfather had to enter first. This time it wasn’t just that custom prohibited giving the appearance of undue eagerness to eat; it was a hesitation such as might befall anyone finding himself at the threshold of a dreadful place, and yet there was nothing dreadful inside. Upon the table, freshly filled wine bottles gleamed brightly, two glistening hams presented themselves in all their glory, mighty roasts of mutton and veal steamed, fresh Züpfen lay between them, plates heaped with cakes, plates with three sorts of tarts had been crammed in as well, nor were the little pitchers of sweetened tea lacking. It was a delightful spectacle, and yet they paid it little heed, for all of them kept peering about them with fearful eyes to see if the spider wasn’t glinting in some corner or even glowering down at them with its baleful eyes from atop the splendid ham. The spider was nowhere to be seen, and yet no one paid the usual compliments: asking what could their hosts have been thinking to set out so much more food—who could possibly eat it all? They’d already had more than too much. Instead all of them clustered at the bottom end of the table; no one wanted to sit near its head.

To no avail were the guests admonished to take their seats up where so many empty places remained; they

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