Clay, the Name, and the Attic

In the legend as it is usually told, the Jewish quarter of Prague is under threat from a blood accusation, and Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel, known as the Maharal, goes down to the river with two assistants at night, shapes a man out of clay, and brings it to life by ritual means involving the divine name, in most versions written on a slip of parchment placed in its mouth or inscribed on its forehead. The creature is enormously strong, understands instructions, and cannot speak. It patrols the quarter, uncovers the plot, and protects the community. Then it becomes a problem: accounts differ over whether it grows violent, whether it is forgotten and left active on the Sabbath, or simply whether its strength outgrows any use for it. The rabbi undoes the animation by reversing the procedure, and the remains are carried to the attic of the Old-New Synagogue in Prague, where the story holds that they lie under the roof and that the stairs are not to be climbed.

The narrative is unusually specific about place, which is part of its power. The synagogue exists, the attic exists, and the tradition of not entering it is real and long-standing. What the story does not have is early documentation.