Having reached this point in the story, we must pause, for its setting is changing: Adam is about to leave his fairy tale to enter tragedy.

And since no tragedy seems convincing or even quite possible without a woman in the cast, both Bible and Talmud call upon Eve to enter the action.

Needless to say, she immediately tried to eclipse her only partner—and succeeded. From the moment she appeared, she took over center stage. She entered Adam’s life and dominated it completely. We see and hear only her. In no time, Adam became the prototype of the weak, submissive husband whose passivity turns into an act of sheer survival. Unbelievable but true: the very man God considered His masterpiece, His crowning achievement, turned into a pallid figure content to follow his wife and let her decide for him, for both. He could not say no to her; he submitted and kept silent.

Why was Eve created? For Adam’s sake, of course. That is what he was told repeatedly. She was to help him by opposing him, by defying him; she was to enrich his life and lead him to discover desire, ambition and remorse. Eve: a remedy against solitude, the unfathomed side of man. Without Eve, Adam would have been a man but not human.

One Midrashic text candidly admits that Eve was created more to serve God than Adam. God wished this marriage to take place so as to forestall Adam’s being looked upon as a divinity, a god on earth just as the Creator is God in heaven. Solitary men are distrusted everywhere, even in heaven. No divine attribute seems as enviable as solitude.

Another text tries to make us believe that it was Adam who chose Eve to be his wife. Could he have taken another? Was there another? Yes, Eve was not the first woman in creation; she had been preceded by Lilith, mother of demons, but Adam didn’t love her, couldn’t love her, for he had been present at her creation. She therefore held no mystery, no attraction. And so God introduced Eve, and Adam found her to his liking. Indeed, it was love at first sight.

But why did God take her from her future husband’s rib? The question evidently did not trouble Adam, but seems to have preoccupied the Midrash, which offers the following explanation. Before carrying out His project, God thought to Himself: I shall not take her from Adam’s head, for then she might carry her head too high, flaunting her arrogance and pride; nor shall I take her from his eyes, for then she might tend to be curious, too curious and greedy; nor must I take her from his ears, for she might tend to eavesdrop; nor from his neck, for she might be stiff-necked and insolent; nor from his mouth, for she would not stop chattering; nor from his heart, for she would be sick with jealousy; nor from his hand, for she might turn into a meddler. No, God decided, I shall take her from the most chaste part of Adam’s body—his rib. And, adds the Midrash with caustic humor, despite these precautions, woman has all the faults God tried to prevent.