Episode 84 – A Pound of Flesh – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 84 Show Notes

Source: Jewish Folklore

This week on MYTH, it’s tales of love, loss, and litigation for the annual Valentine’s special. You’ll learn that the best things happen to the worst people, that you should always have a lawyer read your contracts, and that we’ll always have Casablanca. Then, in Gods and Monsters, it’s truly the marriage from Hell. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 84, “A Pound of Flesh”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
Valentine’s Day is almost here once again, which is always a very special time here on the podcast. I try to have a little something for everyone here, so I’ve got a story of true love finding a way and a story of a marriage literally from hell. That way, no matter how you feel about the Feast of Saint Valentine, you’ll hopefully find something that speaks to you. Both this story and the Gods and Monsters segment come from the excellent Jewish Folktales collection by Pinhas Sadeh.
Many years ago, long before Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman wound up there, a Jewish merchant lived in Casablanca (in modern Morocco) with his wife and only son. Unlike pretty much everyone in the movie, this particular merchant was successful and wealthy. Alas, his money proved to be of no use when he suddenly fell ill one day. He called for the doctors, but they all said the same thing – whatever had befallen the merchant was incurable and would soon be fatal.
Knowing that his end was nigh, the merchant called his son to his deathbed to speak with him. For all that he had tried to instill a sense of honor and hard work in his son, the young man had grown up rich, spoiled, and kind of a little shitbag. When the dying merchant asked his son what he planned to do with his inheritance, with the successful business that he had spent his entire life building up from nothing, he was dismayed but unsurprised by the answer. “That’s easy, pops. I’m going to spend it. If anyone needs money, they’ll have it. If anyone invites me to wild parties, I’m going to party hearty. And if a pretty girl catches my eye, I’ll shower her in gold and jewels and anything else her pretty little heart desires. Why else have money if not to spend it lavishly and extravagantly so that everyone around you knows how fabulously wealthy you are?”
The merchant groaned in despair at this entirely expected answer. Shouting equally to his son and to the heavens, he asked if this was really what would become of everything he had worked so hard for. Perhaps in answer, he died in the next moment. All of his great wealth passed immediately to his trust fund son. True to his word, the young man spent the next year in a drunken haze of fabulous parties and extravagant gifts. Everyone in town (well, everyone rich, important, or beautiful enough to catch the young man’s attention anyway) loved the rich kid and his seemingly endless shower of gold. Of course, the golden shower was far from endless. At the end of that year, it was gone. All of it. Every last fucking penny had been spent and every business had been sold or gone bankrupt, leaving him (and his mother who he was supposed to be supporting off his dead father’s estate) utterly destitute and penniless.
His mother asked her wastrel son what he intended to do now. The cupboards were bare and everything that could be sold already had been. What was his plan now? “Simple, mother – I’m leaving. Everyone in town knows me as the wealthy life of the party. I simply can’t bear the shame of them seeing me down on my luck like this. Being poor is just too embarrassing.” It’s very telling of his character that he’s thinking of all of this in terms of embarrassment and bad luck rather than ‘oh look, if it isn’t the consequences of my own shitty actions.’ He has all the moral backbone of an eclair.
Having thus made up his mind, the young man skipped town, leaving Casablanca behind and heading for Marrakech, located about 150 miles south. That’s a long trip, especially for the time this story takes place in, but it still wasn’t far enough. Rich people, being rich, they had the money to travel and so even all the way in Marrakech, there were wealthy elites who knew the young man. Many had been business associates with his father and were on friendly terms with the family. The news of his wasteful ways hadn’t yet made it to this distant locale and so they were surprised to see the young man. What was he doing all the way down here?
Being a shameless asshat, the young man did the obvious thing – he lied. “I, uh, I came here on business. Yup, business. I’m good at business, just like pops, but the deal went sideways – through no fault of my own of course – and the money’s gone. I’m not sure what I’m going to do now.” As I said, these men had been friendly with his father and were on good terms with the family, so one of them agreed to a loan. “Listen kid – your dad had a good head for business, so I’m hoping it runs in the family. You’re asking for a shitload of money and I’m gonna help you out but on one condition: you pay me back in full at the end of the year and we’re square. If not, you’ll pay me with a pound of flesh instead (the original uses a kilogram but I think pound of flesh just sounds more poetic). Deal?”
I mean, there’s definitely some loan shark ‘break your legs’ kind of vibe going on here, but he’s only asking for the original money back, not even asking for any interest. He’s trying to do the kid a favor while making it just risky enough to discourage taking the deal with the intention of, I dunno, spending it all frivolously on lavish parties and expensive gifts. The young man quickly agreed to the extremely harsh terms and took the money, signing his name to a promissory note clearly spelling out the unorthodox arrangement. He’d learned a little from his previous fuckup, but not much. He did invest the money into a series of get-rich-quick schemes that went exactly how you think they did. He bought sure things and then had to unload them for a fraction of what he’d paid. He threw parties to gin up business and make connections, but nothing ever seemed to materialize. By the end of the year, the young man was once again dead broke. Fuck.
The bloody deadline was fast approaching and the young man knew that he was boned. He had no money, no prospects, and no ideas. His dreams began to be haunted by vivid nightmares of having his flesh carved away from his hide to repay his debt. Waking was little solace since he knew that his nightmares would come true all too soon.
As time grew shorter, depression turned into abject despair. All hope was lost and the young man simply couldn’t bear the thought of being carved up like a lamb for the slaughter. He decided that the only way out was suicide. A quick death was better by far than torture. He contemplated how to go about it and quickly realized that he didn’t have it in him to actually go through with it. He thought some more and landed on an idea. Just down the seashore, there was a place near the king’s palace that was strictly off-limits to anyone but royalty – a private beach connected to the palace proper. The signs clearly indicated that entering uninvited was punishable by death. He figured that he could sneak in there, take in the sights, and then get caught being where he shouldn’t be. That way, someone else could do the actually killing for him. A quick beheading would probably hurt less than what the rich businessman was planning.
So resolved, he hurried down to the palace and the private beach, but his shitty luck kept right on being shitty. The gates to the forbidden area were closed and locked, leaving him no way to sneak in and get caught so he could get executed. He wandered around the walls for a bit, hoping to spot some other way in, but there was none. Giving it up as a lost cause, he threw himself to the ground and curled up against the wall to weep bitter tears of anguish. It was all so unfair! Why did bad things always happen to him? Again, this situation is entirely of his own making, but that’s not how the young man saw things.
As it so happened, the young man decided to do his wailing underneath the window of the princess. She heard his agonized sobs and looked out the window to see who was in such terrible pain. The sun had set by now, leaving the beach in utter darkness and hiding the form of whoever was making that awful racket. “Hello? Who’s out there crying? Are you a man or a demon? With the noises you’re making, I can’t be sure. If you are a man, and not a demon, show yourself. You sound utterly pitiful and I want to try and help you, if I can. If you’re a demon on the other hand, get the fuck away from my window!”
The young man realized that this was an unexpected opportunity and nearly tripped over himself to stumble into the patch of light cast from the princess’ window. The princess was relieved to see that it was not, in fact, a demon but rather a very handsome young man. “What’s your story, stranger? Why are you crying on the beach in the middle of the night?” He told the princess his story and, finally, he’s learned some humility from this whole devastating experience. The tale he spun was the truth – he told her about frittering away his inheritance, about leaving his mother penniless and then abandoning her to seek his fortune here, and about making an incredibly shortsighted deal with the rich creditor who was going to collect his literal pound of flesh in the next couple of days. The princess was touched by his honesty and pitied him. Plus, he was, like, super hot, which didn’t hurt matters.
The princess considered his story and made her decision. “Alright, sir. I’ll help you on one condition – you spend the night with me tonight. Leave your address with me in the morning and I’ll send you the best lawyer around. Deal?” As far as bargains go, this was definitely the best one the young man had ever been offered (and way better than he deserved, but pretty people always seem to get free stuff, don’t they). He happily followed the princess into the palace and spent the night with her. The story only says that they fell in love that night, but I have to imagine there was a fair bit of wild fucking as well. He must be really, really good in bed and really, really pretty.
When the sun rose the next morning, the young man left his address as promised and went home. His roomates asked just where the hell he’d been all night (as you might if your depressed acquaintance who’s been talking a lot about how much easier it would be if he unalived himself randomly vanished just before a terrible ordeal that he was dreading). The young man was coy about it, saying that he had traveled to another town and married the local beauty (which is a very strange lie). “Cool good for you buddy, but uh – what about your trial? You know, the one you keep talking about being the end of everything for you? The one that’s coming up and you haven’t prepared for at all?” “Oh, that? Don’t worry – my lawyer will handle it.” He’s either very happy-go-lucky or he has a hell of a lot of faith in the princess. Maybe both. If the princess of the kingdom randomly falls in love with you and promises you the best lawyer, you’re probably getting one shark of a lawyer, right?
Before much longer, the trial had arrived. Having promised a great lawyer, the princess delivered in her own interesting way: she dressed up as a man and went to court to be her new boyfriend’s lawyer. Ho boy, I sure hope she’s been paying attention to her law classes in princess school. The rich merchant handed the judge the contract the young man had signed that laid out the very explicit terms of their agreement. The judge read it carefully, one eyebrow lifting as he did so. “Young man, is this your signature? Did you agree to these terms?”
“I can’t deny that it is. Yes sir, I signed that contract, but I only did so under duress. I was desperate for money and would have agreed to almost anything.” Silence. “And…that’s your only defense?” At that point, Princess Lawyer stood. “Your honor, my client is willing to admit that he signed the agreement and is in default on this loan. There’s no disputing that. The terms, as you can see, are very clear – my client is to have one pound of flesh removed from his body. He asks only that the terms be carried out exactly as written – one pound. No more, no less. Exactly one pound is to be cut off. If the plaintiff takes too much or too little, we ask that he make up the difference with his own flesh. Fair is fair.”
The judge considered this. The rich merchant was horrified and broke in. “You can’t be serious! I can’t possibly cut off exactly one pound – there’s no way to be sure until it’s off!” The judge nodded seriously. “That is a conundrum.” The merchant groaned. “Fine. Fuck it. I don’t care about his punishment enough to risk having to cut cut up myself. I waive my right to the pound of flesh.”
The young man was exhilarated to have escaped this ugly little trap and went back home for a celebratory drink. The princess went back to the palace, changed back into her princess garb, and then headed out to see the young man at home. He was ecstatic to see her and told her the good news. She smiled a secret smile. “So my lawyer was everything you hoped?” “He was the best, the absolute best! That beautiful man saved my life today!” The princess laughed. “I’m glad you thought I made a pretty lawyer.” She saw the confused look on the young man’s face. “Seriously? You couldn’t tell? I’m a better disguise artist than I thought. The lawyer I sent you was just me in disguise. Surprised?” It turns out she was paying attention in princess school. The young man kissed her in response. The two were married soon after and, by all accounts, had a very happy life thereafter. The story doesn’t say, but I really hope they took care of his mother with some of that unearned good fortune he had stumbled into.
And so, with the rich, selfish asshole ending up with everything but what he deserved, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s marriage from hell is the woman whose husband disappeared.
In the town of Poznan in Poland, there lived a rich man who, like our previous rich merchant, had only a single child. Instead of a waste of space son, this man had a beautiful and gracious daughter whom he loved very much. She was the apple of his eye and an absolute daddy’s girl so, when she came of age, he resolved to find her a husband who was worthy of her charm, wit, and grace. Knowing that this choice was far too important for him to make on his own, the man went to see the tzaddik Rabbi (tzaddik being a title meaning ‘righteous’ and only bestowed on spiritual masters) Naphtali Katz. He asked for the wise man’s assistance in choosing a proper husband for his daughter from amongst the young men studying in his yeshiva, or religious school.
The rabbi was happy to help and chose a young man whose piety was only matched by his intelligence and thirst for knowledge. This seemed a good match, and so the marriage was arranged. The girl’s father put up a huge sum for her dowry and bought the bridegroom-to-be new clothes and shoes – being a poor student didn’t pay any better back then than it does now. A grand, elaborate, lavish wedding was held for the couple and everyone who was anyone was invited (along with many of the young man’s classmates from the yeshiva). Everything was going splendidly right up until the new husband vanished without a trace a few weeks later. One day, he simply left the city and his blushing bride behind and disappeared without a word.
The man’s new father-in-law was understandably pissed off about the young man doing his daughter dirty like this and organized search parties. If something had happened to the young man, he would be rescued. If, as seemed far more likely, he had decided to be a total dick and steal the dowry, then he would be brought to heel. The searchers scoured the country from one end to the other, but no sign of the young man was discovered. As far as anyone could tell, he truly had vanished into thin air.
There was nothing else to be done, and so the brokenhearted young woman settled into the life of being the widow of a presumably living man. Like we discussed way, way back in Episode 9, Jewish law forbade the young woman from remarrying unless it could be proven that the young man was dead or an official divorce was granted. Having neither, she was forced to make her way as best she could all on her own. Fuck that guy.
Thirteen unhappy years went by in this way with no word and no sign of the missing husband. One day, the rich father-in-law was telling a friend of his about his great sorrow and his deep frustration that the young man had never turned up. This particular friend happened to be on very good terms with the rabbi (I’m assuming the same one, but the story doesn’t clarify). “That’s a real shitty situation your daughter found herself in. That’s not right. Tell you what – I’ll go talk to the rabbi. He’s a very wise man. Maybe he can help.” Figuring it couldn’t possibly hurt, the man agreed and the two went to the rabbi.
The friend told the rabbi the whole depressing ordeal and, reliving the worst mistake of his life, the rich man broke down weeping for his poor daughter. Moved by the man’s obviously genuine grief, the rabbi agreed to help. “Step outside and wait, please. With God’s help, there may be something I can do for your daughter.” The two men thanked the rabbi and went outside to wait.
Once they were gone, the rabbi sat down, focused his mind, and sank into a deep trance. After some time had passed, he spoke to his disciples. “I cannot find the missing husband anywhere among the living. I’m going to try something more dangerous, so I need you to watch me carefully and do exactly as I say. I’m going to go even deeper into my trance and fall into a deep sleep. When you see my expression change, wake me up by calling my name. I’ll fall back asleep almost immediately and, if you see my expression change again, call my name to wake me up. The third time will be the deepest and most dangerous of all, so pay very close attention and if my expression starts to change, wake me up by calling my name. I will be on the very brink of death, so it will be harder than ever to wake me, but don’t give up until you do or I will be in terrible danger.”
The young disciple agreed to his teacher’s request and sat down to watch the rabbi carefully. Things went exactly as the old wise man had said, and the young student nearly despaired of waking his teacher the third time, but he at last succeeded. After stretching his very stiff limbs, the rabbi called in the two men. “I have found your son-in-law. Go now and rent a carriage. Bring your daughter, three rabbis, two witnesses, and a scribe and ride to Vienna (in modern Austria). Two miles out from the great city, you will come to a large inn. Stop there and go inside. You will find three men in army uniforms sitting around a table. The middle man is the one you want, and he will recognize your daughter immediately as the woman he abandoned so many years ago. ‘Holy shit you guys – that woman used to be my wife!’ he will say to his friends. As soon as he does, you confront him for deserting your daughter 13 years ago and demand that he grant her a divorce there before the rabbis and witnesses. He will refuse, because he is a prick. No matter how many times you ask, plead, or demand, he will refuse even if you offer him a large sum of money. Once he has made this choice, report him to the army garrison in Vienna. They will send a high officer to force him to do the right thing.”
These were…remarkably specific instructions. The rich man was surprised but grateful for this advice and hurried off to obey. He gathered up the required party, hired a coach, and headed for Vienna. Two miles outside the city, they came to a large inn just as the rabbi had said. Sure enough, they found three soldiers sitting around a table inside and the one in the middle looked up and gasped at the sight of his poor, mistreated wife. “Holy shit you guys – that woman used to be my wife!” Already knowing that he was doomed to failure, the rich man nonetheless tried to convince the man to give his daughter an official divorce and the man refused over and over again. Even when offered an obscene amount of money, he yet refused and gave no reason why. Thus having proved his point in front of the official witnesses he’d brought with him, the man sent a messenger into the city to report the soldier’s dishonorable behavior.
A high-ranking officer was dispatched to see what all of this was about. Hearing the story from the rich merchant and having it confirmed by the poor abandoned bride, three rabbis, and two witnesses, the officer was easily convinced to force his subordinate to do his proper duty. Still the man refused to grant a divorce. The officer insisted forcefully, threatening punishment if the man continued to disobey. “Fuck you, fuck the entire officer corp, fuck the army, and fuck the king and queen. You can shove your discipline up your ass for all I care. Now fuck off, dipshit.” The officer…did not take kindly to being cursed out by an insubordinate soldier. The man had been given a direct order by a superior officer and had responded with vile curses and stubborn refusal. Incensed, the officer drew his sword and beheaded the surly soldier in one clean blow. Well shit.
The officer kicked the bleeding body once for good measure, cleaned his sword on a non-yet bloodstained scrap of the dead man’s clothes, and turned to the father. “Well, I guess you don’t need a divorce anymore. He doesn’t need to grant one when he’s missing his head, right?” Everyone agreed that this was true – they had all seen the man admit to being the missing husband and then seen him summarily executed. The woman was now officially a widow and could do as she pleased.
Everyone returned home and the rich man went to relay everything that had happened to the rabbi. He was amazed at the way it had all gone down, but the rabbi just nodded his head sagely. “That’s what I expected. It was a tricky business. You see, your son-in-law was not in fact among the living when you came to see me. He had died years ago and his soul was in Hell. Your grief and your daughter’s terrible plight moved me to help you, and so I conjured his damned soul up from the Third Circle of Hell (which is reserved for gluttons, according to Dante’s Inferno). You see, after he stole your money and abandoned your daughter, he fell in with a gang of vicious cutthroats. He robbed and raped and murdered for a while with them, until they argued over something. Arguing turned to violence, and the young man caught the wrong end of a sword. The Heavenly Tribunal sentenced his soul to Hell, where it belonged.
“I knew all of this from my trance, but I could hardly prove it so that your daughter could get a divorce. Hence, the raising of his damned spirit, accompanied by two devils to make sure he stayed in line. They were the two other soldiers you saw in that inn. The rest, well you saw that for yourself.” The rabbis and witnesses had pronounced the woman officially widowed and so, in short order, she found herself a newer and much kinder and more deserving man to be her husband. The two of them lived happily for the rest of their days (and the disappearing husband went right the fuck back to hell. Seriously, fuck that guy).
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
Next time, we’re heading to the Pacific islands for a tale of a slacker teen. You’ll discover that you shouldn’t trust someone named Lazy John, that you shouldn’t buy medicine from a shady kid, and that trickery only gets you so far. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll learn why putting babies in boiling water is bad. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.