Collected Stories Read online

  ‘Would it not be better to meet some other time? At a more suitable hour? Say in a coffeehouse? Besides, your fiancée left only a few minutes ago, you can easily catch her up, she has waited so long for you.’

  ‘No!’ I shouted into the noise of the passing tram. ‘You won’t escape me. I like you more and more. You’re a lucky catch. I congratulate myself.’

  To which he said: ‘Oh God, you have a sound heart, as they say, but a head of wood. You call me a lucky catch, how lucky you must be! For my bad luck is precariously balanced and when touched it falls onto the questioner. And so: Good night.’

  ‘Fine,’ said I, surprised him and seized his right hand. ‘If you don’t answer of your own accord, I’ll force you. I’ll follow you wherever you go, right or left, even up the stairs to your room, and in your room I’ll sit down, wherever there’s space. Go on then, keep staring at me, I can stand it. But how’ – I stepped up close and because he was a head taller I spoke into his throat – ‘how are you going to summon up the courage to stop me?’

  Whereupon, stepping back, he kissed my hands in turn, and wetted them with his tears. ‘One cannot deny you anything. Just as you knew I want to go home, I knew even earlier that I cannot deny you anything. All I ask is that we go over there into the side street.’ I nodded and we went over. When a carriage separated us and I was left behind, he beckoned to me with both hands, to make me hurry.

  But once there, not satisfied with the darkness of the street where the lamps were widely separated from one another and almost as high as the first floor, he led me into the low hallway of an old house and under a small lamp which hung dripping in front of the wooden stairs.

  Spreading his handkerchief over the hollow in a worn step, he invited me to be seated: ‘It’s easier for you to ask questions sitting down. I’ll remain standing, it’s easier for me to answer. But don’t torment me!’

  I sat down because he took it all so seriously, but nevertheless felt I had to say: ‘You’ve led me to this hole as though we are conspirators, whereas I am bound to you simply by curiosity, you to me by fear. Actually, all I want to ask is why you pray like that in church. The way you carry on there! Like an utter fool! How ridiculous it all is, how unpleasant for the onlookers, how intolerable for the devout!’

  He had pressed his body against the wall, only his head moved slowly in space. ‘You’re wrong! The devout consider my behavior natural, the others consider it devout.’

  ‘My annoyance proves you’re mistaken.’

  ‘Your annoyance – assuming it’s real – only proves that you belong neither to the devout nor to the others.’

  ‘You’re right. I was exaggerating when I said your behavior annoyed me; no, it aroused my curiosity as I stated correctly at first. But you, to which group do you belong?’

  ‘Oh, I just get fun out of people watching me, out of occasionally casting a shadow on the altar, so to speak.’

  ‘Fun?’ I asked, making a face.

  ‘No, if you want to know. Don’t be angry with me for expressing it wrongly. It’s not fun, for me it’s a need; a need to let myself be nailed down for a brief hour by those eyes, while the whole town around me—’

  ‘The things you say!’ I cried far too loud for the insignificant remark and the low hallway, but I was afraid of falling silent or of lowering my voice. ‘Really, the things you say! Now I realize, by God, that I guessed from the very beginning the state you are in. Isn’t it something like a fever, a seasickness on land, a kind of leprosy? Don’t you feel it’s this very feverishness that is preventing you from being properly satisfied with the real names of things, and that now, in your frantic haste, you’re just pelting them with any old names? You can’t do it fast enough. But hardly have you run away from them when you’ve forgotten the names you gave them. The poplar in the fields, which you’ve called the “Tower of Babel” because you didn’t want to know it was a poplar, sways again without a name, so you have to call it “Noah in his cups.” ’

  He interrupted me: ‘I’m glad I haven’t understood a word you’ve been saying.’

  Irritated, I said quickly: ‘Your being glad about it proves that you have understood it.’

  ‘Didn’t I say so before? One cannot deny you anything.’

  I put my hands on a step above me, leaned back, and in this all but unassailable position, the wrestler’s last resort, I asked: ‘Excuse me, but to throw back at me an explanation which I gave you is insincere.’

  At this he grew daring. To give his body unity he clasped his hands together and said with some reluctance: ‘You ruled out quarrels about insincerity from the very beginning. And truly, I’m no longer concerned with anything but to give you a proper explanation for my way of praying. Do you know why I pray like that?’

  He was putting me to the test. No, I didn’t know, nor did I want to know. I hadn’t even wanted to come here, I said to myself, but this creature had practically forced me to listen to him. So all I had to do was to shake my head and everything would be all right, but at the moment this was just what I couldn’t do. The creature opposite me smiled. Then he crouched down on his knees and said with a sleepy expression: ‘Now I can also tell you at last why I let you accost me. Out of curiosity, from hope. Your stare has been comforting me for a long time. And I hope to learn from you how things really are, why it is that around me things sink away like fallen snow, whereas for other people even a little liqueur glass stands on the table steady as a statue.’

  As I remained silent and only an involuntary twitching passed over my face, he asked: ‘So you don’t believe this happens to other people? You really don’t? Just listen, then. When as a child I opened my eyes after a brief afternoon nap, still not quite sure I was alive, I heard my mother up on the balcony asking in a natural tone of voice: “What are you doing, my dear? Goodness, isn’t it hot?” From the garden a woman answered: “Me, I’m having my tea on the lawn.” They spoke casually and not very distinctly, as though this woman had expected the question, my mother the answer.’

  Feeling that this required an answer, I put my hand in the hip pocket of my trousers as though I were looking for something. Actually, I wasn’t looking for anything, I just wished to change my appearance in order to show interest in the conversation. Finally I said I thought this a most remarkable incident and that I couldn’t make head or tail of it. I also added that I didn’t believe it was true and that it must have been invented for a special reason whose purpose wasn’t clear to me just now. Then I closed my eyes so as to shut out the bad light.

  ‘Well, isn’t that encouraging! For once you agree with me, and you accosted me to tell me that out of sheer unselfishness. I lose one hope and acquire another.

  ‘Why, after all, should I feel ashamed of not walking upright and taking normal steps, of not tapping the pavement with my stick, and not touching the clothes of the people who pass noisily by? Am I not rather entitled to complain bitterly at having to skip along the houses like a shadow without a clear outline, sometimes disappearing in the panes of the shopwindows?

  ‘Oh, what dreadful days I have to live through! Why is everything so badly built that high houses collapse every now and again for no apparent reason? On these occasions I clamber over the rubble, asking everyone I meet: “How could this have happened? In our town – a new house – how many does that make today?— Just think of it!” And no one can give me an answer.

  ‘Frequently people fall in the street and lie there dead. Whereupon all the shop people open their doors laden with wares, hurry busily out, cart the dead into a house, come out again all smiles, then the chatter begins: “Good morning – it’s a dull day – I’m selling any amount of kerchiefs – ah yes, the war.” I rush into the house, and after raising my hand several times timidly with my finger crooked, I finally knock on the janitor’s little window: “Good morning,” I say, “I understand a dead man was carried in here just now. Would you be kind enough to let me see him?” And when he shakes his head as thoug
h unable to make up his mind, I add: “Take care, I’m a member of the secret police and insist on seeing the dead man at once!” Now he is no longer undecided. “Out with you!” he shouts. “This riffraff is getting in the habit of snooping about here every day. There’s no dead man here. Maybe next door.” I raise my hat and go.

  ‘But then, on having to cross a large square, I forget everything. If people must build such huge squares from sheer wantonness, why don’t they build a balustrade across them as well? Today there’s a southwest wind blowing. The spire of the Town Hall is moving in little circles. All the windowpanes are rattling, and the lampposts are bending like bamboos. The Virgin Mary’s cloak is coiling around her pillar and the wind is tugging at it. Does no one notice this? The ladies and gentlemen who should be walking on the pavement are floating. When the wind falls they stand still, say a few words, and bow to one another, but when the wind rises again they are helpless, and all their feet leave the ground at the same time. Although obliged to hold on to their hats, their eyes twinkle gaily enough and no one has the slightest fault to find with the weather. I’m the only one who’s afraid.’

  To which I was able to say: ‘That story you told me earlier about your mother and the woman in the garden I really don’t find so remarkable. Not only have I heard and experienced many stories of this kind, I have even taken part in some. The whole thing is perfectly natural. Do you really mean to suggest that had I been on that balcony in the summer, I could not have asked the same question and given the same answer from the garden? Quite an ordinary occurrence!’

  After I had said this, he seemed relieved at last. He told me I was well dressed and that he very much liked my tie. And what a fine complexion I had. And that confessions became most comprehensible when they were retracted.

  c The Supplicant’s Story

  Then he sat down beside me, for I had grown timid and, bending my head to one side, had made room for him. Nevertheless, it didn’t escape my notice that he too was sitting there rather embarrassed, trying to keep some distance from me and speaking with difficulty:

  ‘Oh, what dreadful days I have to live through! Last night I was at a party. I was just bowing to a young lady in the gaslight and saying: “I’m so glad winter’s approaching” – I was just bowing with these words when to my annoyance I noticed that my right thigh had slipped out of joint. The kneecap had also become a little loose.

  ‘So I sat down, and as I always try to keep control over my sentences, I said: “for winter’s much less of an effort; it’s easier to comport oneself, one doesn’t have to take so much trouble with one’s words. Don’t you agree, Fräulein? I do hope I’m right about this.” My right leg was now giving me a lot of trouble. At first it seemed to have fallen apart completely, and only gradually did I manage to get it more or less back into shape by manipulation and careful rearrangement.

  ‘Then I heard the girl, who, out of sympathy, had also sat down, say in a low voice: “No, you don’t impress me at all because—”

  ‘ “Just a moment,” I said, pleased and full of expectation, “you mustn’t waste so much as five minutes talking to me, dear Fräulein. Please eat something while you’re talking, I implore you.”

  ‘And stretching out my arm I took a large bunch of grapes hanging heavily from a bowl held up by a bronze winged cupid, dangled it for a moment in the air, and then laid it on a small blue plate which I handed to the girl, not without a certain elegance, I trust.

  ‘ “You don’t impress me at all,” she said. “Everything you say is boring and incomprehensible, but that alone doesn’t make it true. What I really think, sir – why do you always call me dear Fräulein? – is that you can’t be bothered with the truth simply because it’s too tiring.”

  ‘God, how good that made me feel! “Yes, Fräulein, Fräulein!” I almost shouted, “how right you are! Dear Fräulein, if you only knew what a wild joy it is to find oneself so well understood – and without having made any effort!”

  ‘ “There’s no doubt, sir, that for you the truth is too tiring. Just look at yourself! The entire length of you is cut out of tissue paper, yellow tissue paper, like a silhouette, and when you walk one ought to hear you rustle. So one shouldn’t get annoyed at your attitude or opinion, for you can’t help bending to whatever draft happens to be in the room.”

  ‘ “I don’t understand that. True, several people are standing about here in this room. They lay their arms on the backs of chairs or they lean against the piano or they raise a glass tentatively to their mouths or they walk timidly into the next room, and having knocked their right shoulders against a cupboard in the dark, they stand breathing by the open window and think: There’s Venus, the evening star. Yet here I am, among them. If there is a connection, I don’t understand it. But I don’t even know if there is a connection. – And you see, dear Fräulein, of all these people who behave so irresolutely, so absurdly as a result of their confusion, I alone seem worthy of hearing the truth about myself. And to make this truth more palatable you put it in a mocking way so that something concrete remains, like the outer walls of a house whose interior has been gutted. The eye is hardly obstructed; by day the clouds and sky can be seen through the great window holes, and by night the stars. But the clouds are often hewn out of gray stones, and the stars form unnatural constellations. – How would it be if in return I were to tell you that one day everyone wanting to live will look like me – cut out of tissue paper, like silhouettes, as you pointed out – and when they walk they will be heard to rustle? Not that they will be any different from what they are now, but that is what they will look like. Even you, dear Fräulein—”

  ‘Then I noticed that the girl was no longer sitting beside me. She must have left soon after her last words, for now she was standing far away from me by a window, surrounded by three young men who were talking and laughing out of high white collars.

  ‘So I happily drank a glass of wine and walked over to the pianist who, all alone and nodding to himself, happened to be playing something sad. I bent carefully down to his ear so as not to frighten him and whispered into the melody: “Be so kind, sir, as to let me play now, for I’m just beginning to feel happy.”

  ‘Since he paid no attention to me, I stood there for a while embarrassed, but then, overcoming my timidity, I went from one guest to another, saying casually: “Today I’m going to play the piano. Yes.”

  ‘Everyone seemed to know I couldn’t play, but they smiled in a friendly way, pleased by the welcome interruption of their conversation. They paid proper attention to me only when I said to the pianist in a very loud voice: “Do me the favor, sir, of letting me play now. After all, I’m just beginning to feel happy. A triumph is at stake.”

  ‘Although the pianist stopped, he neither left his brown bench nor appeared to understand me. He sighed and covered his face with his long fingers.

  ‘I felt a trifle sorry for him and was about to encourage him to continue playing when the hostess approached with a group of people.

  ‘ “That’s a funny coincidence,” they said and laughed aloud as though I were about to do something unnatural.

  ‘The girl also joined them, looked at me contemptuously, and said: “Please, madame, do let him play. Perhaps he wants to make some contribution to the entertainment. He ought to be encouraged. Please let him.”

  ‘Everyone laughed, obviously thinking, as I did, that it was meant ironically. Only the pianist was silent. Holding his head low, he stroked the wood of the bench with the forefinger of his left hand, as though he were making designs in sand. I began to tremble, and to hide it, thrust my hands into my trouser pockets. Nor could I speak clearly any longer, for my whole face wanted to cry. Thus I had to choose the words in such a way that the thought of my wanting to cry would appear ludicrous to the listeners.

  ‘ “Madame,” I said, “I must play now because—” As I had forgotten the reason I abruptly sat down at the piano. And then I remembered again. The pianist stood up and stepped tactfull
y over the bench, for I was blocking his way. “Please turn out the light, I can only play in the dark.” I straightened myself.

  ‘At that moment two gentlemen seized the bench and, whistling a song and rocking me to and fro, carried me far away from the piano to the dining table.

  ‘Everyone watched with approval and the girl said: “You see, madame, he played quite well. I knew he would. And you were so worried.”

  ‘I understood and thanked her with a bow, which I carried out well.

  ‘They poured me some lemonade and a girl with red lips held my glass while I drank. The hostess offered me a meringue on a silver salver and a girl in a pure white dress put the meringue in my mouth. Another girl, voluptuous and with a mass of fair hair, held a bunch of grapes over me, and all I had to do was pluck them off with my lips while she gazed into my receding eyes.

  ‘Since everyone was treating me so well I was a little surprised that they were so unanimous in holding me back when I tried to return to the piano.

  ‘ “That’s enough now,” said the host, whom I had not noticed before. He went out and promptly returned with an enormous top hat and a copper-brown overcoat with a flowery design. “Here are your things.”

  ‘They weren’t my things, of course, but I didn’t want to put him to the trouble of looking again. The host helped me into the overcoat which fitted beautifully, clinging tightly to my thin body. Bending over slowly, a lady with a kind face buttoned the coat all the way down.

  ‘ “Goodbye,” said the hostess, “and come back soon. You know you’re always welcome.” Whereupon everyone bowed as though they thought it necessary. I tried to do likewise, but my coat was too tight. So I took my hat and, no doubt awkwardly, walked out of the room.

  ‘But as I passed through the front door with short steps I was assaulted from the sky by moon and stars and a great vaulted expanse, and from the Ringplatz by the Town Hall, the Virgin’s pillar, the church.