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Author Jeff Martin shares his short story, “Winebibber,” crafted with forty passages interwoven from the book of Proverbs.
Proverbs 1:10
Proverbs 1:15-16
Proverbs 1:22
Proverbs 2:7
Proverbs 3:13
Proverbs 3:25
Proverbs 3:33
Proverbs 5:16
Proverbs 8:7
Proverbs 8:10
Proverbs 9:10-11
Proverbs 10:27-30
Winebibber
By
Jeff Martin
Credits:
Curated by:
Laura Eve Engel
2016
Short Story
Primary Scripture
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As a fiction writer, the wisdom books of the Bible often frustrate me because of their lack of narrative—that is, there’s no story to be found in Proverbs, just as there isn’t any to be had in Wisdom or Sirach or the Psalms. If you want a plot in this stretch of the Old Testament, your best bet is Job, which has cause and effect, even if the causes are ultimately inexplicable. If you’re willing to scrap a bit more for your plot or like unusual narrative structures, you might be able to do something with Song of Songs or Ecclesiastes. But for the most part, what you’ll be reading is lists, many of which, as in Proverbs, are happy to repeat their ideas ceaselessly and with only the slightest variations. Nor are those repetitions necessarily profound—in some ways, Proverbs could be whittled down to this: “The righteous and the just will be okay. But the wicked and the slothful are up the creek.”
This drove me nuts. Why spend 920 verses making the same few generic points?
So it interested me to learn that Hebrew has a number of variations for the term “byword”—a word or phrase (like a proverb) that we use frequently. Of course one of those variations can be translated as “proverb.” But another can be translated as “taunt.” And that’s what struck me the most about Proverbs—that the overabundance of generic advice felt like a taunt to the reader.
Once I had that focus, the challenge was to herd the 40 verses I chose into a short story, i.e, a narrative, which is not their natural environment. Doing so was a blast.
Lastly, I’ll say this: the story’s engine runs almost entirely on taking the verses literally, which is probably the worst way to read any kind of religious text. But I also think there’s something to be gained from exploring how these sayings would fare when dropped into the living world.
Spark Notes
The Artist's Reflection
Jeff Martin co-directs the UVA Young Writers Workshop and has been published in New England Review, Alaska Quarterly Review, and No Tokens Journal, among others. Find more of his work online at readjeffmartin.com.
Jeff Martin
About the Artist
Related Information
There was a great deal of consternation and much protest at the announcement of the quiz.
It can 't be helped, I said.
WINEBIBBER
By Jeff Martin
There was a great deal of consternation and much protest at the announcement of the quiz.
It can’t be helped, I said. Put away everything but a piece of paper and something to write with.
C’mon, Winebibber said, they’d just had a quiz yesterday, and I hadn’t even graded that one yet. How could I give another one today?
Winebibber always noticed things like this. I’d sat him by the window hoping someday he might fall out of it.
Yeah, Buckler said, that’s not fair at all.
A couple of the backdwellers started chanting Not fair! Not fair! as they often did. They didn’t look up from their phones.
Besides, Winebibber said, it’s not a good day for Quan. Quan is having a bad day.
I’m fine, Quan muttered. He sat behind Winebibber and he looked sick.
It can’t be helped, I said again. We cannot choose the day we are tested.
But you can, Winebibber said. You can choose the day. You chose it yesterday.
I shrugged.
What’s the quiz even on? Buckler asked. We didn’t have any reading last night.
Seriously, Winebibber said, it’s not a good day for Quan. We have to take it, fine, but leave Quan out of it.
I’ll take it, Quan mumbled.
Hang on, said the backdwellers. They looked up from their phones. If we have to take it, everyone has to take it.
Yeah, Buckler said, that’s true.
Let us quiz on Gadiformes, I said.
Quan raised his hand and asked to go to the bathroom. He did not look good.
After the quiz, I said.
The backdwellers were in an uproar. What in hell was a Gadiforme?
Come on, Winebibber said, even he didn’t know what a Gadiforme was, and he’d already taken two PSAT prep courses.
Is this a punishment? Buckler asked. Are you just mad again?
Not fair! the backdwellers were chanting. Not fair! Not fair!
No, I said, this is not a punishment.
The backdwellers demanded to know what a Gadiforme was. They had their rights, they said. They had the right to know.
I silenced them with the air horn. How long? I said. How long will you love simplicity and hate knowledge?
Quan got to the trashcan at the front of the room before he threw up. The whole room yelled.
Then don’t look, I said. It’s just the inside of a stomach. It’s no different than the inside of a building.
No, it’s different, the backdwellers moaned, covering their eyes. It’s way different.
Someone yelled to open a window and someone else did so.
I helped Quan lie down on the floor behind my desk. He did not look good. His black hair was stuck to his temple with sweat and his chest rose quickly up and down. He stared at me with wide dark eyes.
Shouldn’t he go to the nurse? Winebibber asked. He was standing by the open window as if ready for some kind of action.
He’ll be fine, I said. I looked down at Quan. You’ll be fine, I said. A little sleep, I said to him, a little slumber. A little folding of the hands to sleep.
I told you he was having a bad day, Winebibber said.
You were right, I said. Good for you. Happy is the man who findeth wisdom, and the man who getteth understanding.
The backdwellers wanted to know if we could getteth that trashcan out of there.
I sat the trashcan in the hall and closed the door.
It wasn’t even that much, I said to them. To Quan I said, Quan, if it’s going to happen again, you are welcome to use my hat. I reminded him that my hat was hanging on the chair above him.
Okay, Quan said. It was hard to hear him and we could see only his legs sticking out from behind the desk.
Buckler asked if we were still taking the quiz, and the backdwellers told him to shut up, why would he remind me?
And I said, Why would I forget?
Yes, I said, we were still taking the quiz.
But we don’t know anything about Gettysburg, the backdwellers said.
Gadiformes, Buckler said. He didn’t say Gettysburg. Jesus.
We’re going to wreck you after class, the backdwellers said to Buckler. To me they said, We don’t know anything about Gadiformes, either. You can’t quiz us on what we don’t know. It’s unconstitutional.
Then receive my instruction instead of silver, I said, and knowledge instead of choice gold.
This really is a pretty bad class, Winebibber said. He was still standing by the window.
And be not among winebibbers, I said, among riotous eaters of flesh.
What is going on? Winebibber said.
He just called you a flesh eater, the backdwellers said. That means you’re gay.
Buckler disagreed. He called him a cannibal, he said. But I don’t know why. What is going on?
Look at your phones, I said. Look up Gadiforme on your phones.
The backdwellers said they didn’t know how to spell it and sat back to complain to each other of their plight. I asked Quan how he was doing.
His eyes were closed and he said he was afraid.
Oh, I said, don’t be afraid of sudden fear.
But I am afraid, he said.
Well, I said, just don’t be.
Winebibber waved his phone. It’s cod, he said. A Gadiforme is just a cod.
Yes, I said, good. There is gold, and a multitude of rubies, but the lips of knowledge are a precious jewel.
That’s a gay joke, the backdwellers told Winebibber. Lips of knowledge. You can sue him for that after we beat the shit out of you.
There, I said to Winebibber. See? The simple inherit folly, but the prudent are crowned with knowledge. You should feel crowned.
I don’t get it, Winebibber said. We’re reading Lord of the Flies.
Yes, I said.
What does cod have to do with Lord of the Flies?
I reminded them that the quiz would be like all quizzes. Five questions, two points apiece. The backdwellers and Buckler cried foul.
You may use your phones, I said.
Finally, Buckler said.
To Quan I said, Quan, you don’t need to write down your answers, but I want you to think about the questions.
Quan made a sound I couldn’t understand.
Some of the backdwellers decided they wouldn’t take the quiz. They were going to fail, so what was the point?
You can use your phones, I said. Don’t be slothful. The slothful man says, There is a lion in the way; there is a lion in the streets.
Quan made another sound.
But, I said, there isn’t a lion in the way. There is only a quiz, and it’s not in the streets. It’s just here in the room.
Winebibber said Quan really ought to go to the nurse.
Once, I said, I went past the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding. And lo, I said, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall was broken down. Do you understand what I’m saying?
Quan made a long, strange sound from behind the desk, high enough to get the backdwellers’ attention and odd enough to silence them.
Oh, God, he said at the end of it, and then was the sound of him sobbing.
Quan, I said, are you afraid?
Jesus, the backdwellers said, of course he’s afraid. Let him go to the nurse.
I told you, Winebibber said. He had one arm out the window and was scooping handfuls of fresh air in.
I asked Quan what he was afraid of.
Oh, God, he quavered again, and he rolled over so the sobbing grew muffled.
There, I said to the class, Quan has the right idea. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Good for you, I said to Quan’s legs. The wisdom of the holy is understanding.
His mom is dying, Winebibber said.
I turned around. Is that true, Quan? I said, but Quan didn’t answer.
It’s true, Buckler said. Everyone knows it.
We didn’t know it, the backdwellers said.
Everyone who matters knows it, Buckler told them.
That’s twice, they said, and one of them threw a pen cap at Buckler. We’re going to wreck you twice now.
Don’t worry, I said to Buckler. The righteous is delivered out of trouble, and the wicked cometh in his stead. I turned back to Quan. Did you hear that, Quan? That goes for your mother, too. Bow down your ear and hear the words of the wise, and apply your heart unto my knowledge.
He’s already bowed down, Buckler said. He’s on the floor. He can’t bow down any more than that.
Listen, Quan, I said. If you faint in the day of adversity, your strength is small.
Just leave him alone, Winebibber said. He wasn’t scooping air in anymore. He was just sitting on the window ledge. Just leave him alone, he said again.
But a wise man is strong, I said. Yea, a man of knowledge increaseth strength. Quan, I said, if you had more knowledge, you’d have more strength. You’d be in a chair right now instead of on the floor.
Jesus, the backdwellers said. What’s the matter with you?
Question number one, I said.
The backdwellers howled. We were still having the quiz?
Question number one, I said again. Identify the origin of cod.
If we have to do this, the backdwellers said, we’re just going to cheat off each other.
Sloths, I said, you say there is a lion without, I shall be slain in the street.
A lion without what? the backdwellers asked. What is it with sloths and lions? Buckler, they said, if you give us your answers, we’ll only wreck you once. Not twice.
You can use your phone, Buckler said. He flipped through his screen and wrote something down.
Seriously, they said. You’re asking for it.
My son, I said to Buckler, if sinners entice you, consent you not. Walk not in the ways with them; refrain your foot from their path. For their feet run to evil, and make haste to shed blood.
He’s right, they said, we’ll make haste to shed blood for sure. They demanded to know the origin of cod. They had their right to know.
Nothing? I said. Have you learned nothing from Quan’s example? He lies sobbing on the floor for lack of knowledge. Is this what you want for yourselves as well?
He’s on the floor because his mom’s dying, Winebibber said. She’s younger than my mom.
Quan, I said, is your mother an upright woman? The righteousness of the upright shall deliver them.
She’s a hospice nurse, Winebibber said. He leaned against the window frame and dangled one foot out in the air.
There you are, I said. Whoso walketh uprightly will be saved.
She can’t walk uprightly, Winebibber said. She can’t get out of her bed.
Metaphorically, I said.
I don’t think so, Winebibber replied.
Wait, said one of the backdwellers, she has to shit in her bed?
Yes, Winebibber said with his eyes closed, she has to shit in her bed.
Quan let out another long, muffled howl.
Gross, the backdwellers said. Pissing the bed was bad enough. Hey Buckler, they said, you still piss your bed?
No, Buckler said. He was done writing and waiting for the next question.
Let thy fountains be dispersed abroad, I said, and rivers of waters in the streets.
They looked at me.
Question two, I said.
I really don’t think this is right, Winebibber said. Quan needs to see the nurse.
Just give us the next question, Buckler said.
There, I said, and pointed at Buckler. A man who seeks knowledge. He layeth up sound wisdom for the righteous. He is a buckler to them that walk uprightly.
He is a man who seeks a beating, the backdwellers said. He is a kicking bag to those that walk in shoes.
A hypocrite with his mouth destroys his neighbor, I said, but through knowledge shall the just be delivered. I went to my desk and took a letter opener from a plastic tray. It was shaped like a sword and I handed it to Buckler. But you should also carry this, I said.
Then I gave them the second question. Explain cod, I said. That’s the second question.
Winebibber wanted to know how knowledge would deliver Quan’s mother. The backdwellers roared. How were they supposed to explain cod?
I shrugged. The curse of the Lord is in the house of the wicked, I said. But he blesseth the habitation of the just.
But she’s dying, Winebibber said.
Quan, I said, on a scale of one to ten, how just is your mother?
She’s a nine, Winebibber said.
If she’s a nine, I said, she has nothing to fear. The integrity of the upright shall guide them.
That doesn’t sound very helpful, Winebibber said.
It is, I said. The way of the Lord is strength to the upright, but destruction to the workers of iniquity.
She’s on morphine, Winebibber said. She doesn’t know where she is half the time.
Well, I said, the hope of the righteous shall be gladness. The righteous shall never be removed, but the wicked shall not inhabit the earth.
I think she wants to be removed, Winebibber said. She’s shitting in her bed and eating through a tube.
If she’s righteous, I said, all her days shall be multiplied, and all the years of her life increased.
Well, said Winebibber, that sounds like a terrible system. And he swung his other leg over the window ledge and dropped out of sight. We heard him strike the lower roof, and the backdwellers cheered.
I’m sorry about that, I said to the class. Whoso loves instruction loves knowledge, but he that hates reproof is brutish. Thorns and snares are ever in the way of the froward.
The backdwellers talked among themselves. He meant the Frodo, they said. Those thorns around Mordor.
Remember, I said, the way of the slothful man is as a hedge of thorns, but the way of the righteous is made plain.
And also, I said, a slothful man hides his hand in his bosom, and will not so much as bring it to his mouth again.
The backdwellers noted that I had said bosom and that they could report me for that.
I shrugged. A man that bears false witness against his neighbor is a maul, and a sword, and a sharp arrow.
What does that mean? they asked.
Buckler wanted to know what the next question was.
There isn’t one, I said. The second question is worth eight points.
There was great consternation and protest that this wasn’t fair. This commotion increased when I told them the quiz was worth a third of their grade.
You have to trust me, I said. Trust that this will all be turned to good. There was an uproar and a multitude of threats. Outraged, one of the backdwellers cast himself out the window in the manner of Winebibber.
Well, I said, open rebuke is better than secret love.
The backdwellers left in a fury, followed by the rest. A minute later there remained only Buckler in his seat and Quan prone on the floor.
Buckler handed me his paper. Thanks for this, he said, and held up the letter opener.
I told him he was welcome.
He wanted to know what would happen to Quan.
He’ll be all right, I said. Happy is the man that feareth always. But he that hardens his heart shall fall into mischief.
He doesn’t look happy, Buckler said, and Quan let out a great, quaking sob. He doesn’t sound happy, either.
Just trust me, I said. For my mouth shall speak truth, and wickedness is an abomination to my lips.
Loading Video . . .
There was a great deal of consternation and much protest at the announcement of the quiz.
It can 't be helped, I said.