One more thing I thought about relating to The Rabbi’s Cat after class today.
I’m really interested in this idea of viewing humanity through the cat’s eyes, and how it gives us, the readers, a different perspective. There’s a certain honesty that’s achieved from the bluntness of the cat’s narration. But this blunt honesty is performed by another character in the book, one we barely touched on, that is, the cousin El Rebibo.
When reading this part of the book, I was startled by the rabbi’s acceptance of Rebibo’s lifestyle. Although he is immediately shocked to see his wonderful cousin singing on the street dressed as an Arab, the rabbi ends up accepting Rebibo’s lifestyle, which is shocking considering how critical he was about Paris lifestyle earlier in the chapter. On page 24, Rebibo in detail describes his unkosher life,
No, I’m sorry. Let me put it this way, man to man: I’m madly in love with her, but since she’s a singer she’s banging half of Paris in addition to me. So when she doesn’t come home at night I get drunk and if it goes on much longer I’ll end up blowing my brains out.
The rabbi handles this news quite calmly. “So there hasn’t really been any talk of marriage yet, right?” he replies. Eventually, it is only Rebibo that causes the rabbi to enjoy Paris. The two connect by playing music together, and auditioning at Ventura’s. Although their duet is unsuccessful, Rebibo is able to secure a performance in the show for his solo act. After this, the rabbi is finally able to meet his son-in-law’s family.
But why Rebibo? I think its because he’s one of the few people to be honest with the rabbi, in a similar way to the cat. On the trip to Paris, the rabbi’s daughter and son-in-law seem to constantly hide things from the rabbi. Perhaps its because they’re frustrated with his complaining, but I think treating the rabbi like a crazy old-fashioned man makes the situation worse. The rabbi needs bluntness to understand, something he receives only from
Overall, I was just shocked by the contrasting character of the rabbi from the beginning of this last chapter of the book to the end. He’s just so frustrating in the beginning of the book that the contrast of his peacefulness by the end of the book is so refreshing. The rabbi’s conversation with his son-in-law’s father is one of my favorite scenes of the book. He just seems so accepting about religion, rather than imposing about it. He doesn’t lecture the father for his lack of religion, or not supporting his son’s search for God. The rabbi just lends advice casually, and wisely, helping this total stranger understand his son.
“The truth is, you go where people will accept you.” (p139)
