Parashath Mi-Qétz (Genesis XLI,1-XLIV,17) 12/23/11

A.

ויהי מקץ שנתים ימים ופרעה חלם והנה עמד על היאר: (“And it was at the end of two years of days, and Pharaoh was dreaming, and behold, he was stand at the Nile”). So begins our parasha, introducing the account of Pharaoh’s troubling dreams, which induced him to seek interpretation which he did not find, until the sar ha-mashqim suddenly “remembered” Yoséf from his stay in prison two years before.

The Shëlah ha-qadosh famously tells us (in a comment on last week’s parasha) that there is an intimate connection between the parashoth and the season in which they are read. As we are reading this one, we find ourselves in the midst of Hannukka. What connection can we find between this story of troubled sleep and the rise of Yoséf, and our holiday?

B.

Aside from lighting the Hannukka lights, one of the things we do during Hannukka is add the paragraph ‘Al ha-nissim (“For the miracles”) to our thrice-daily prayers. The paragraph contains the following line: ולך עשית שם גדול וקדוש בעולמך ולעמך עשית תשועה גדולה ופרקן כהיום הזה (“and for Yourself You made a great and holy name in Your world, and for Your people Israel You made a great deliverance and salvation, like this day [këha-yom ha-ze]”).

There are several things a bit puzzling in this sentence; for instance, what do we mean when we say that through the Hashmona’i victory over Antiochos’ Græco-Syrian forces G-d “made a great and holy name for [Him]self in [His] world”; was G-d then unknown before this time? And what does the odd phrase këha-yom ha-ze signify?

In order to begin to approach an answer, we need to understand some things first. The Creation account climaxes with a very odd turn of phrase, wherein we learn that G-d blessed and sanctified the Sabbath כי בו שבת מכל מלאכתו אשר ברא אלקים לעשות (“...for on it He rested from all His creative labor [mëlachto] which He created to do”; ibid., II, 3). Rashi explains that the reference is to המלאכה שהיתה ראוי' לעשות בשבת כפל ועשאה בששי וגו' (“the mëlacha which was meant to be done on shabbath; He doubled up and did it on the sixth [day]”).

Next, we note that the Ba‘al Shém Tov famously comments on Psalms CXIX, 89: לעולם ד' דברך נצב בשמים (“For the world [lë-‘olam], Ha-Shem, Your word is positioned in the heavens”), that it refers to the original Divine utterances which brought about Creation and which continually vitalize and maintain Creation in existence; that is, these utterances were created in order that they should do something, continually sustaining the physical realm (מובא בספר התניא שער היחוד והאמונה פ"א וע"ע בעש"ט עה"ת פרשת בראשית סי' מ"ח-נ"א, ומקורו כנראה במדרש שוחר טוב שם בתהלים ובזה"ק ח"ב צ"א:).

As I have discussed several times in these pages, the fundamental level of physical reality underlying every object and phenomenon in the universe consists of a set of mathematical expressions, wave functions, first defined by Erwin Schrödinger and Louis de Broglie. The ultimate, metaphysical reality which generates these wave functions and thus brings the physical realm into being consists of tzirufei othiyoth, combinations of letters forming words and phrases in the Holy Language (the letters themselves having a mathematical dimension), through which the Creation came about and is sustained. The great consistency of what we prefer to consider the “laws of nature” lies in the fact that (as the Ba‘al Shém Tov says) the original words continue to exist and are “positioned” to maintain constancy and consistency.

In fact, Hazal famously tell us, "הליכות עולם לו" אל תקרא "הליכות" אלא "הלכות" (“‘The ways [halichoth] of the world are His’ [Habakkuk III, 6]; read not halichoth but halachoth”; מגילה כ"ח:). The laws governing the universe, including the spatiotemporal singularities which account for what we think of as “miracles” have the force of halacha, of Torah law, and are derivable from the text of the Torah itself.

That text, Ramban famously tells us in the introduction to his commentary on the written Torah, is composed entirely of names of G-d, strung together to form the words and sentences which we read and learn. The word ‘olam can be shown to be derived from a root meaning hide or conceal and the universe is called by that term because its gross physicality serves to conceal from us the sublime metaphysical workings which infuse and sustain it. As the saying goes, we are generally unable to see the forest for the trees.

A nés, a miracle, derived from a root meaning “move, drive away”, serves to part the curtain, as it were, to pierce the veil and afford us a momentary glimpse of the ultimate reality which informs and sustains the physical realm. Hence, the ‘al ha-nissim is telling us, through the miracles of Hannukka G-d brought into the world a “great and holy name”. a tziruf othiyoth which otherwise would not have been perceptible to us.

Now, for one more piece of the puzzle, we turn to Hoshéa‘ VI, 2: וחיינו מימים ביום השלישי יקמנו ונחי' לפניו: (“And our lives will He set up from the two days on the third day, and we shall live before Him”). Rashi and Radaq both understand “the two days” to refer to the exiles Israel have undergone with the destruction of each of the first two Temples (Mëtzudath David comes close to saying the same thing); we have had to pick up the pieces and start over on each of those occasions, but we will not be completely restored until the “third day”, the third and final Temple which will be built by ha-melech ha-mashiah; until that time, G-d sustains us in exile.

C.

Now, let us see how our introductory verse alludes to all of the above, and more:

Va-yëhi mi-qétz shënathayim yamim... Hazal tell us: דבר זה מסורת בידינו מאנשי כנסת הגדולה כל מקום שנאמר "ויהי" אינו אלא לשון צער (“This thing is a tradition handed down to us by the Men of the Great Assembly: Every place in which it is said va-yëhi is none other than an expression of pain”; מגילה י:), presumably because the word sounds like vai hi’, “it is woe.” The end of our exile comes about only after suffering, only after we have internalized the twin tragedies of the Temples’ destruction, and worked to correct the shortcomings which brought them about.

U-far‘o holém...The word par‘o can be viewed as if it is derived from the root pé-réysh-‘ayin, meaning “uncover, reveal” (cf. e.g. Numbers V, 18); the restoration after that long period of travail, both exiles with the entire era of the Second Temple – throughout most of which Israel also was not free – in the middle, comes about because of a revelation, the product of the dream of national, spiritual revival which can finally be realised with the achievement of the qétz, the “end” of those two phases of our exile.

Vë-hinné ‘oméd ‘al ha-yë’or... אין עמידה אלא תפלה, Hazal tell us; “‘amida [standing] is prayer” (ברכות ו:). The navi’ proclaims of that Third Temple: והביאתים אל הר קדשי ושמחתים בבית תפלתי כו' כי ביתי בית תפלה יקרא לכל העמים (“And I shall bring them to My holy mountain, and make them rejoice in My house of prayer... for My house shall be called a house of prayer for all of the peoples”; Isaiah LVI, 7), and the Zohar tells us that it is ביתא דאתפרעו ואתגליין מני' כל נהורין וכל בוצינין כל מה דהוה סתים מתמן אתגלי ובג"כ קב"ה אפיק כל נהורין וכל בוצינין בגין לאנהרא לההוא קול כו' (“the house from which are uncovered [ithpar‘u] and revealed all the lights and sources of light [butzinin], everything which had been hidden from there [i.e., the physical realm], and for this reason the Holy One, Blessed is He, brings forth all the lights and all the butzinin in order to illuminate that voice....”; ח"א ר"י.), the “voice” which, earlier on the same page, the Zohar defined as prayer.

And for what, precisely, is the prayer, the ‘amida? It is ‘al ha-yë’or, the letters of which also form the word rë’iya, “sight, perception”: העם ההלכים בחשך ראו אור גדול ישבי בארץ צלמות אור נגה עליהם (“The people who were going in darkness saw [ra’u] a great light; those sitting in the shadow of death, an actinic light was upon them”; Isaiah IX, 1). And what would they perceive by this light, after having suffered through the double period of exile? The initial letters of Va-yëhi mi-qétz shënathayim, in reverse order, spell out the word shëmo: “His name”, the above-referenced tziruf othiyoth of the othiyoth ha-Torah.

And butzina, in the passage above from the Zohar, is the Aramaic word for nér, “candle”....

D.

What makes the shém, the Divine name, that tziruf othiyoth which was revealed through the miracles of Hannukka “great and holy”? It is the fact that, like all the other Divine utterances, it continues to stand in the heavens, shaping and sustaining our world for just such moments in history as ours.

Think of what had transpired: The civilized world, from the Adriatic to the Indus, had been conquered by the Greeks under Macedonian leadership; Greek civilization, culture, and mores prevailed over the entire area. Even after the break-up of Alexander the Great’s empire, the diádochoi, the successor states, had more in common with each other than not. This culture ate at the vitals of the Jewish nation, beckoned to assimilation, to oblivion amongst the nations – until Yëhuda ha-Makkabi arose and declared Mi la-Shem élai! “Who is for Ha-Shem, rally to me!”, and against all odds, all the “laws” of history and military science, the victories described in the ‘al ha-nissim of גבורים ביד חלשים ורבים ביד מעטים וטמאים ביד טהורים ורשעים ביד צדיקים וזדים ביד עוסקי תורתך (“the mighty at the hands of the weak, and the many at the hands of the few, and the defiled at the hands of the pure, and the evil at the hands of the righteous and the arrogant at the hands of those involved in Your Torah”) returned the Béyth ha-Miqdash to our hands and there brought about a hithgalluth oroth, a revelation of light which shone and illuminated that darkest of times.

As the Hannukka lights, over these eight days which are the mark of mastery over nature (which operates in cycles of seven) illuminate the darkest time of year, so does that shém gadol vë-qadosh stand ready to be invoked, with the aid of tëfilla, to illuminate other dark periods, even këha-yom ha-ze....

Parshath Mi-Qétz (Genesis XLI,1-XLIV,17) 12/18/09

A.

ויהי מקץ שנתים ימים כו' וידבר שר המשקים את פאעה לאמר את חטאי אני מזכיר היום: (“And it was at the end of two years of days.... And the sar ha-mashqim spoke with Pharaoh to say, 'My sins I am mentioning to-day'”; XLI, 1, 9).

By the end of last week’s parasha, Yoséf’s fortunes had taken a sharp turn for the worse, as the scorned wife of his master, Potifar, accused him falsely of making advances and had him thrown into prison. There, Yoséf encountered two ministers of the court who had odd dreams which he was able to interpret accurately. Within three days of his interpretation, one of the ministers was executed, and the other, the sar ha-mashqim responsible for the drinks in the royal court, was exonerated. Yoséf took the opportunity to urge the sar ha-mashqim: כי אם זכרתני אתך כאשר ייטב לך ועשית נא עמדי חסד והזכרתני אל פרעה והוצאתני מן הבית הזה (“For if you remember me with you when [Phareaoh] will be good to you and do me a kindness and mention me to Pharaoh, you will bring me out of this house”; XL, 14). However, the sar ha-mashqim forgot about Yoséf and allowed him to cool his heels in prison for another two years.

The midrash (ילקוט שמעוני מ' קמ"ז) tells us that the sar ha-mashqim’s forgetfulness was no natural phenomenon, but was Divinely induced, and Rashi comments that מפני שתלה בו יוסף לזכרו הוזקק להיות אסור שתי שנים שנאמר "אשרי הגבר אשר שם ד' מבטחו ולא פנה אל רהבים" ולא בטח במצריים הקרויים רהבים (“because Yoséf relied on [the sar ha-mashqim] he was obliged to be imprisoned two years, for it is said: ‘Happy is the man who puts his trust in Ha-Shem and has not turned to the rëhavim’ [Psalms XL, 4], who has not trusted the Egyptians who are called rëhavim”).

Rashi’s comment, in turn, raises the question: What, precisely, did Yoséf do wrong? There is an established principle that we are not allowed to rely upon miracles, articulated by, e.g., Ramban concerning the teiva built by Noach, noting that Noach had to build a large box even though it should have been obvious that it was insufficient to contain every species of living thing on the planet למעט בנס כי כן הדרך בכל הניסים שבתורה או בנביאים לעשותם מה שביד אדם לעשות והשאר בידי שמים (“to lessen the miracle, for thus is the way of all the miracles in the Torah or in the Prophets, to do them to the extent possible by humans, and the rest is in the hands of heaven”).

This said, why should Yoséf not have exercised what appeared an opportunity for shtadlanuth (“intercession”), with a high court official who was being restored to favour? How should Yoséf have known whether or not this was the path being Divinely provided for his rescue?

B.

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein זצ"ל in his Darash Moshe suggests that Yoséf should have understood from the beginning that the entire sequence of events in the prison was such a bizarre set of coin-cidences that it was being managed from the first for his benefit. After all, how likely was it that a disgraced foreign-born slave accused of making improper advances to his master’s wife would wind up in the same cell with two former high government officials, who would just happen to have weird dreams which Yoséf would just happen to be able to interpret correctly, such that one of the two officials, the sar ha-mashqim, would be exonerated and freed within a short time?

The sequence of events, he writes, should have been sufficiently obvious to Yoséf that he ought simply to have assumed that the sar ha-mashqim would, acting in his self-interest to curry favor with his royal master, find an apropos occasion to mention the remarkable dream-interpretation talents of the young man in the prison, and thus be the vehicle of his rescue without having to ask anything at all, and so not have to “turn to the rëhavim,” as the verse quoted above says.

Rabbi Feinstein’s take appears to have some support from the Maharal mi-Prag (though he does not mention it), who asks in his Gur Aryeh why Yoséf languished in prison for the specific period of two years. He notes that Yoséf asked the sar ha-mashqim to do two things: והזכרתני, “and you will mention me,” והוצאתני, “and you will bring me out,” and notes that the gimatriya or numerical value of the introductory words אם זכרתני, “if you remember me” (adding 2 for the two words) is 730 or 2 x 365, which is implied in the expression which opens our parasha, שנתים ימים, “two years of days” since a solar year is, of course, approximately 365 days long.

The Maharal also notes the Talmudic ruling that one who does not see an acquaintance until a period of 12 months has elapsed should make the blessing ברוך מחי' המתים, “blessed is He Who revives the dead”, לפי שאחר י"ב חודש נשכח ממנו כמת מלב, “because after twelve months one is forgotten from the heart like a dead person” (ברכות נ"ח:), pointing out that the first year in which the sar ha-mashqim forgot Yoséf was Divinely orchestrated, the second following automatically in its wake, as implied by the gimatriya of וישכחהu, “and he forgot him” in the last verse of last week’s parasha, is 355, equivalent to shana, “[one] year.”

C.

There is another midrash, however (בראשית רבה פ"ח סי' ד') which strongly suggests that Yoséf was entirely aware of the singular nature of his encounter in the prison with the Egyptian court officials. The midrash calls attention to the fact that the sar ha-mashqim, in recounting his dream, mentions Pharaoh’s cup four times, which Yoséf and the midrash understood to be a prophetic allusion to Israel’s future history and the four nations, The Babylonians, Medio-Persians, Greeks, and Romans amongst whom Israel would be exiled, and would outlive. In other words, Yoséf clearly knew that he had a future and would not meet some squalid end in a fetid hole of an Egyptian prison, and so א"ל את בשרתני בשורה טובה, אף אני אבשרך בשורה טובה (“he said to [the sar ha-mashqim], you have brought me good news, I, too, shall bring you good news”) and proceeded to describe the sar’s deliverance.

So he surely knew that “the fix was in” and that he was destined to get out of jail free. If so, why, then, did he choose to rely on the sar ha-mashqim?

D.

The key to answering the question, I think, is in considering how it was that Yoséf had ended up in prison. The fatal encounter with Mrs. Potifar is introduced as followed: ויבא הביתה לעשות מלאכתו ואין איש מאנשי הבית שם בבית (“and he came to the house to do his work, and there was no man of the men of the household there in the house”; XXXIX, 11). Now, Potifar’s house was hardly some peasant hovel; Mrs. Potifar did not do her own cooking and cleaning. There must have been an army of servants; how could it be that no one was home save the femme fatale?

The Talmud (סוטה ל"ז:) deduces from this that it was a religious holiday. As the principal priest of his cult, Potifar was officiating in the temple, and all of the rest of the common folk were there as well. Mrs. Potifar had begged off attending, feigning illness, and Yoséf, as a key member of the household, surely knew all of the above. He was quite deliberately, knowingly walking into danger. He very nearly succumbed to her blandishments; the only thing which saved him, at the last minute, wads the appearance of his father’s face before him, reminding him suddenly of who hew really was, and of whence he came.

A review of the story of Yoséf leaves a very strong impression indeed that none of it had to happen that way. The rivalry between him and his brothers could have been contained and managed, but Yoséf seems to have felt completed to rub their noses in his prophetic dreams and their assurance of his future greatness. The nature of those dreams escaped nobody, and he was nearly killed for his trouble, save that a caravan of Yishmë‘élim just happened to be passing by.....

So they sold the seventeen-year-old into slavery, still a disaster. But how likely was it that he would be bought by the most prominent citizen of On? And even then, how likely was it that Potifar would entrust him with management of all his economic and domestic affairs? Having thus once again come out on top, surely it could have happened that Yoséf would be present at Pharaoh’s court on his master’s business whilst Pharaoh told of his troubling dreams, interpreted them, and thus come to the knowledge of Pharaoh. Yet, once again, Yoséf was compelled nearly to succumb to his mistress’ charms, and ended up in prison... where he again came out on top. How likely, as we have already asked, that he would be imprisoned together with an Egyptian official about to be exonerated, and given the chance to interpret the official’s dream signaling that exoneration, when, again, Yoséf succumbs to temptation....

What was the source of these compulsive missteps?

As Yoséf himself subsequently tells his brothers (XLVIII, 5-7), he became convinced that that the whole sequence of events had been Divinely orchestrated, but it is nonetheless true that it all could have been done in a much simpler and straightforward manner, rather than zigzagging to the conclusion as it did. The fact that it was not so simple, that the story has so many zigs and so many zags, is due to what the Talmud calls השאור שבעסה, the “yeast in the dough” (ברכות י"ז.), the yétzer ha-ra‘ which is the essential flaw created by our dipartite nature, both spiritual and physical. The Yoséf story is in this sense a metaphor for all of human history, and serves to assure us that, no matter how badly and how consistently we make wrong choices, G-d still runs the world, everything is being managed for our benefit, and this final. brutal exile will also come to an end.

Parshath Mi-Qétz (Genesis XLI,1-XLVI,17) 12/7/07

A.

The story of Yosef continues with Yosef’s rise to greatness on the strength of his interpretation of the Egyptian king’s dreams: Seven years of plenty would be followed by seven years of famine.

Both of these predictions prove true, and as the world-wide famine ensues, Ya’aqov, driven by necessity, sends ten of his sons to Egypt to buy food, keeping only the youngest, Binyamin, at home. The ten brothers are brought before Yosef, who recognizes them immediately, though they, of course, fail to recognize the boy they had sold into slavery in the powerful Egyptian noble enthroned before them.

Speaking through an interpreter, Yosef accuses his brothers of being spies. They protest their innocence, and he proposes that they prove their bona fides by bringing the younger brother whom they claim to have left behind to Egypt: שלחו מכם אחד ויקח את טחיכם ואתם האסרו וגו' ויאסף אתם אל משמר שלשת ימים (“Send one of you, and he will bring your brother, and you, be imprisoned.... And he gathered them under guard for three days;” XLII, 16-17).

Then Yosef seems to change his mind: אם כנים אתם אחיכם אחד יאסר בבית משמרכם ואתם לכו הביאו שבר רעבון בתיכם וכו' ויקח מאתם את שמעון ויאסר אתו לעיניהם (“If you are upright, one of your brothers will be imprisoned, and you, go, bring famine relief to your homes.... And he took Shim’on and imprisoned him before their eyes;” ibid., 19-24).

Yosef’s evident capricious behaviour is striking, first saying that one would go fetch Binyamin whilst the others sat in jail, then imprisoning them all, finally releasing nine of them and keeping one; what is the reason behind it, and why was Shim’on the one he kept?

B.

To begin our search for an answer, we return to the beginning of last week’s parasha, where we read: ויבא יוסף את דבתם רעה אל אביהם (“And Yosef brought [his brothers’] ill fame to their father;” XXXVII, 2). The claim is not made that Yosef slandered his brothers; rather, he told lashon ha-ra about them, that is. things which he knew (or at least believed) to be true, but which were nonetheless defamatory. Rashi ad loc. writes, following the midrash, that one of the things he told Ya’aqov was: ומזלזלים בבני השפחות לקרותן עבדים (“and they were insulting the sons of the maidservants [bnei ha-shfachoth], calling them slaves [âvadim];” ע"ע רשב"ם שם).

The Talmud (הוריות י"ג.) establishes an order of precedence when it comes to the mitzva of פדיון שבויים, “redeeming prisoners” from captivity: An ordinary, free citizen of klal Yisra’él takes precedence over an êved, a kohén takes precedence over the ordinary Israelite, a king of Israel likewise has precedence over ordinary citizens, a talmid chacham (“Torah scholar”) has precedence even over the king, and one’s father who has been taken prisoner has priority over any of the above.

Now consider: Yosef’s goal in putting his brothers through all of the twists and turns which follow was primarily to determine whether or not they had changed their ways. One of the bad habits of Le’a’s sons, we have seen, was calling the sone of Bilha and Zilpa slaves, holding themselves to have a higher status. Yosef wanted to see if this was still so.

I think that Yosef was looking for a ben Lé’a whose only source of status lay in being a ben Lé’a. If he would be imprisoned, would the others attempt to substitute one of the bnei ha-shfachoth for him?

Le’a’s sons were Re’uven, Levi, Shim’on, Yehuda, Yissachar, and Zvulun. Levi and Yehuda, Yosef discounted at once: The one contained within him the future kehunna of Israel, the other the kingship; clearly, the brothers might feel an inherent sense of precedence in their cases.
Re’uven was Le’a’s first-born. The halacha is quite clear that, as the eldest, he was due a level of deference similar to that of his father (עיי' שו"ע יו"ד סי' ר"מ סעיף כ"ב, בית לחם יהודה שם). Hence he, too, could be discounted.

Yissachar, Yosef saw, would be famous for the talmidei chachamim who would arise from him (cf. Deuteronomy XXXIII, 18, Rashi ad loc.; I Chronicles XIII, 32, Radaq ad loc.). Here he, too, grounds for precedence could be found; and Zvulun, who would be the principle source of support for Yissachar’s Torah, would enjoy a similar status (עיי' יו"ד סי' רנ"א סעיף ה' ברכי יוסף שם ). Yosef’s eye therefore settled on Shim’on, the only son of Le’a whose sole claim to precedence over Dan, Naftrali, Gad or Asher was that he was a ben Lé’a.

But if that is why Shim’on was selected, why go through the whole charade of imprisoning all the brothers together for three days? Why not simply say that Shim’on should stay, and the others go and fetch Binyamin, and be done with it?

C.

Go back for a moment to the gmara, supra. It has never been a practice in Israel that if, for instance, a free citizen of Israel is taken captive, one goes and procures a slave in the marketplace to exchange for him, G-d forbid. Rather, the gmara is dealing with a case in which both the Israelite and the êved have been taken together, and the resources exist to free only one of them at the moment: Who should be freed first?

Had Yosef simply taken Shim’on and imprisoned him, there would have been no test; the brothers would simply have gone home and fetched Binyamin. They would not even have been tempted to offer one of the bnei ha-shafachoth in his place, because that was not, and is not a practice in Israel. By imprisoning all ten brothers together, however, and then releasing the others and keeping Shim’on, Yosef offered them the opportunity to allege Shim’on’s superiority over the sons of Bilha and Zilpa, and beg the “Egyptian nobleman” to hold one of them instead.
וילכו משם (XLII, 26); the brothers simply left to get Binyamin. They had passed the first test.

D.

There remains the question of why Yosef changed his mind the first time, initially decreeing that one brother would be released to fetch Binyamin, but ultimately letting nine of them go, keeping only Shim’on. What was the point of that exercise?

The Netziv analyzes the language of v. 19 and compares it the language of v. 33, when the brothers report their experience to Ya’aqov, and concludes that it had nothing to do with the “test” which Yosef was administering to his brothers. Rather, he writes, when Yosef told his brothers אם כנים אתם, “if you are upright,” he meant דכנים משמעו אנשים בעלי בתים בטף ונשים. וכך אמר יוסף שהוא ירא מן האלקים ושמא באמת כנים אתם שיש לכם אף ונשים וא"כ מה יעשו המה ברעב ע"כ אחיכם אחד וגו' (“that the meaning of ‘upright’ [here] is householders with children and wives; and so Yosef said that he was ‘G-d-fearing’ [in the previous verse] and if you are indeed as you say, that you have children and wives, if so, what will they do in the famine? Therefore, ‘one of your brothers [will be imprisoned], etc.’” העמק דבר עה"פ).

Such a show of pious mercy from an impersonal Egyptian noble, a presumptive idolator, was not to be expected. It seems to me that Yosef was thereby playing with his brothers, providing them with a hint of who he really was, even though it would only become clear to them at the climax of the story.