Much to Yankel’s dismay, Brod insisted on cutting that thick black hair herself.
It’s not ladylike, he said. You look like a little boy when it’s so short.
Don’t be a fool, she told him.
But doesn’t it bother you?
Of course it bothers me when you’re a fool.
Your hair, he said.
I think it’s very pretty.
Can it be pretty if no one thinks it’s pretty?
I think it’s pretty.
If you’re the only one?
That’s pretty pretty.
And what about the boys? Don’t you want them to think you’re pretty?
I wouldn’t want a boy to think I was pretty unless he was the kind of boy who thought I was pretty.
I think it’s pretty, he said. I think it’s very beautiful.
Say it again and I’ll grow it long.
I know, he laughed, kissing her forehead as he pinched her ears between his fingers.
Everything is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer, p. 76