by H. G. Adler
Dr. Haarburger offered to press other buttons, which would supposedly lead to other astounding things, but I waved him off. He understood why.
“What can be seen here is only what you know better than any other. But now you can see for yourself!”
“You should come see us soon!” Frau Hannah offered. “You and Johanna, with your son.”
“I also have a little daughter, Eva.”
“That’s nice. Then bring both children. You can also visit if you need money. My husband has a lot now.”
“Dr. Landau doesn’t need any money,” said Kratzenstein. “Everything has been taken care of for him.”
“I’m so glad to hear it. Does that mean the Saubermanns? That’s just what I thought. Frau Saubermann has a heart of gold.”
“What are you thinking? Me and Singule! We don’t need the Saubermanns, Frau Hannah. Right now everyone wants to help give Dr. Landau the resources he needs.”
Dr. Haarburger stressed how pleased he was by my good fortune, though he asked me not to forget whom I had turned to when I really needed money. He would have been happy to jump into the breach. I thanked him for all his kindness and suggested that I really should be on my way in order not to disturb their work in the law pavilion any further. The Haarburgers offered to show me some more horrors, but I really wasn’t curious to see them.
“Jolan, then tell our friend quickly what you did for him!”
“Humility forbids it, but truth is what we try to serve, and it’s only just that we do. I picked you up at the train station because I knew who I was dealing with. Along with Hannah, I was the first there for you. I took you in like a son, recommending you and taking you around. The fact that you know the Professor is because of me. I don’t mean to say that without me nothing would have come of you, but it certainly would have taken until much, much later. I say this in all humility. Isn’t that true, Professor?”
“It’s true,” said Kratzenstein, looking as if he had just bitten into a sour apple. “All of us made him. Now he is who he is.”
“Yes, he is, he is. But it all started with me.”
This Dr. Haarburger said with grandeur, Frau Hannah nodding vigorously a number of times. We said goodbye to the lawyerly couple, who accompanied us as far as the greasy curtain. Outside, I threw a long side glance toward Dr. Blecha, who in the meantime had forgotten about me and continued playing with his coconut. He had already pulled off all its tufts, the fibers lying about the ticket counter in front of him, some of them clinging to his coat. We nonetheless moved on, walking only a few steps before we reached a booth where a parrot picked printed pieces of paper from a holder and gave one to any conference participant who wanted it. The parrot also wanted to give me one. However, I declined when the Professor informed me that it was only an advertisement for the International Society of Sociologists. Nonetheless, we entered, for I recognized Herr Buxinger, who was in charge of this exhibit. He was happy to shake my hand and welcome me. He being as tolerant as he is, it didn’t bother him that I waved away the parrot’s offer, which he warmly offered up to me, saying that I was no fan of propaganda and ads.
“That’s fine, Herr Doctor. Maybe you’ll be more willing to do it if you need me. In any case, I’m in my element here. I’m the sole distributor of Eusemia, and I’ll soon start a large publishing house. Then, Herr Doctor, I’d very much like to become the publisher of your work.”
Kratzenstein informed him that, given the many offers that I had, he shouldn’t expect to be getting anything from me. The bookseller was so disappointed by this that I had to comfort him. When he learned that I would submit something to Eusemia, his eyes lit up, for with this promise he saw a guarantee of the further success of his journal.
“If you appeared only in every other issue, then it won’t take long for me to make my money back and pay off all my debts with Jolan Haarburger. He still wants to get involved in my business, my old friend Jolan.”
The parrot made a screeching sound and let a piece of paper fall. Someone bent to pick it up, saying, “You have to pick up your own luck from the ground.” I looked more closely. It was So-and-So, who out of shyness had not even greeted me. It was hard for him that, through my sudden success, I was much better off than he was. He had not yet gained access to the long promised Professor. This made me feel bad, for an old childhood friend should never be neglected. Hence, I acknowledged him with a quiet greeting and met him with a grateful look.
“How nice, Arthur, to think that we are friends. From the very beginning I knew that you would make it the moment you got here. Did I not say that to you in my first letter after the war?”
So-and-So said this so sincerely that I couldn’t disagree, especially when Kratzenstein agreed and said that we all agreed on that. I looked questioningly at the Professor, for to me his assertion seemed a bit too strong. Because he didn’t want to hear any protest from me, he quickly asserted that, of course, I had certainly had some difficulties at the start, but they were nothing that any great talent would not have met. So-and-So wanted to hear whether I had seen Karin at the conference. When I said I had not, he recommended that I come along with him, for she had a very honored position as an attendant at the Wheel of Fortune. We let So-and-So lead the way, and we came to a brightly decorated booth covered with shimmering pearls and glittering jewels, all of it bathed in colored light. I was startled by so much glitter and rubbed my eyes, for I didn’t want to be blinded.
“A Wheel of Fortune and sociology?”
“My dear Landau, you ask as if you were a rank beginner. Do you know nothing of the sociology of fortune?”
No, I didn’t know anything about that; I had never studied this subject. Slowly I got used to the glare and could now almost look about freely. Not only did I see Karin in a luxurious evening dress—she was selling lots with numbers on them to the participants; Frau Saubermann was also here, and I had no desire to renew her acquaintance. She held sway at the Wheel of Fortune and appeared to be the supervisor. The sight of this made me sick, and I didn’t want to stay a moment longer. Kratzenstein and So-and-So, however, wouldn’t allow me to flee, so I had to join in. By then the benefactress had also discovered I was there and was staring at me with her eyes wide and calling out to me with delight. When she saw my reluctance, she stretched out both arms to me.
“Herr Doctor! Herr Doctor! You finally came! I’ve been sitting on pins and needles and waiting the entire time! So come closer! Such a joy! I’m so happy!”
Since I remained standing where I was, Kratzenstein pushed me forward. Unwillingly, I gave Frau Saubermann my hand, which she played with and caressed for a little while almost incessantly.
“You’ve become such a dear, wonderful man—and morally so free! The way you figured out how to do your duty! What satisfaction it brings me—how excellent it is to see you! Do you remember your visit with us? We spoke privately with each other and had such touching exchanges. Karin, dear, go on and give the Herr Doctor a handful of lots so that he makes sure to win something!”
Karin took some lots from a box and handed them to me. Then Frau Saubermann turned to the Wheel of Fortune, and at least ten of my lots won. I received some cheap cigarettes and sour candies, a little silver-plated chain, a toothbrush, a small pocket mirror made of metal, a little bowl made of pressed glass that looked polished, shirt buttons made of sandalwood, a lovely talisman made of golden yellow tin, and other useful little items. I wanted to give some of my winnings to the Professor and So-and-So, but they wouldn’t take anything, so I had to stuff it all into my pockets. As if that weren’t enough, Frau Saubermann handed me the main prize, which I didn’t have the Wheel of Fortune to thank for. It was a chain of artificial pearls.
“That’s for Johanna, Herr Doctor. The chain is long enough to circle the neck three times. I threaded the pearls myself. They were dipped in my husband’s factory. Splendid wares made from a new process, which no one else has, more beautiful than the real ones. When you drape Johann
a with them, please give her my best! How happy I am that this dear child has such a worthy man as you for a husband. Do you remember the night with Jolan and Hannah? I saw from the first moment that Johanna and you would make for a fine couple. You were clearly meant for each other.”
Frau Saubermann dropped the pearls into a little box and apologized for not being able to spend longer with me, for she had to thread a new chain, and in record time, since a chain was needed as the main prize of the Wheel of Fortune. But the patroness took enough time to invite me and my family to visit, and to insist that if I ever needed anything I could count on her and Larry. Had I even looked for him yet? When I said I had not, she cast a disapproving look at the Professor, who apologized for this oversight and promised to walk me straightaway over to the panopticon. We took our leave of Frau Saubermann and Karin, as well as from my friend So-and-So, who during the stringing of the new chain of pearls helped out at the Wheel of Fortune. He nodded at me and then bowed deeply to the Professor. Then we were on our way and paid no attention to the good wishes called out to us.
“Herr Professor, to the panopticon? I’ve learned a lot from this Sociology Conference, but a panopticon here—what can that mean?”
“Sometimes it feels like you are a first-semester student and not a mature scholar. There’s nothing simpler than that. In the panopticon we find the contemporary museum, which is equal to the most modern scientific achievements, for which we have the trailblazing work of our colleague Herr Saubermann to thank. Consider the word: ‘panopticon.’ That means everything is seen, a museum that is not just for the purpose of true learning but, rather, also speaks to the experience of the broad masses. And that is applied sociology.”
I cringed when the Professor talked of the “broad masses,” for I didn’t like this unuseful misnomer. It prodded me to want to ask what he meant by that, but then I decided it was better to avoid a lecture from my benefactor and kept quiet until we were before the gaudy sign of the booth that said
PANOPTICON—THE CONTEMPORARY MUSEUM
in brightly colored letters. The entry price was cheap, but we didn’t have to pay anything and were immediately met at the door. Herr Saubermann greeted us wearing tails, his long face beaming, and clapping his hands. I thought at first that it was with pleasure he was doing so, but it soon became clear that this was a sign to his two assistants dressed in black coats. To my pleasant surprise, they were none other than Herr Schnabelberger and Frau Dr. Kulka. He bowed deeply, and the doctor nodded delicately, yet neither said a word and needed me to speak to them first before they mouthed their spare, almost submissive phrases. Herr Saubermann, to whom I raised my left hand while continuing to wave him off, patiently suggested that I should take a little time to speak with my old colleagues, though he also longed to have my undivided attention for himself. I didn’t wish to wear out his patience and thus looked for the Professor to engage Saubermann for a while. Then I told my co-workers from the museum that I had seen Herr Geschlieder already and was surprised that he was not among those working at the panopticon. Herr Schnabelberger explained to me that Geschlieder had applied. He had been turned down because he seemed too uneducated, he not having understood how Saubermann had wanted to renovate the museum. Instead, Herr Woticky was employed as an assistant.
I would happily have talked longer with Dr. Kulka and Schnabelberger, but Saubermann was being difficult and wouldn’t be distracted by either my gesture or Professor Kratzenstein’s efforts. Saubermann took me confidently by the arm and said that we should be good friends, to which I didn’t say anything. Then he explained that Herr Schnabelberger and Frau Dr. Kulka had come around entirely to his notion of museumship and had been happy to follow his directions. He, along with these co-workers, would be happy to support my research in word and action whenever I needed them to. In addition, he was also ready to supply me with any kind of private help that I needed, and to grant this to me at any time. While normally visitors were led through the panopticon by my former co-workers, Saubermann was ready to do it himself in this case, though Schnabelberger and Dr. Kulka went along to help him. The panopticon was filled with many objects that were familiar to me from my own time at the museum. On the other hand, the treasures that Larry Saubermann had shown me at his house were not on view here. We came upon bundles of badly torn prayer books, just as we had once piled up in the cellar; here they were displayed neatly, and one was left open. Then I saw paintings that I remembered. They hung on the wallpapered walls, which I recognized as the brand Kolex, from my former friend Konirsch-Lenz, everything now free of dust, the frames repaired and everywhere useful labels that could not have been more informative.
The portraits of the Lebenhart couple hung in a prominent spot. Having in mind Lever’s request, I asked why Saubermann’s panoptical approach wouldn’t allow them to at least hand over the paintings to the Levers so they could hang them in Johannesburg. Frau Dr. Kulka asked Saubermann if she could respond. He nodded that she could, and I was informed that, because of history, this wasn’t possible, for it couldn’t allow for any such return. I should understand that any dumping of stored-up treasure would mean a decrease in the true awareness of the history of those terrible years. The supposed reparation of an injustice should involve, if one understands it properly, really the injustice itself and no right to anything else. Frau Dr. Kulka didn’t want to disagree with me, but that was the panoptical approach, which, no matter how brilliant my scholarly achievements might be, I had not yet sufficiently absorbed. Then Herr Schnabelberger asked to speak in order to support Dr. Kulka and note that Johannesburg was much too far off the beaten track. It is psychologically telling, I would have to agree, that the Levers ran the coconut toss in such a way that, through unusual cunning, they deftly kept the conference participants far enough from the barrier in order to prevent the possibility of a direct hit. If he, Schnabelberger, could suggest something else, he would urge them to consider whether the Levers should be involved with the work at the panopticon, in case someday they might wish to put on an exhibit in Johannesburg.
Herr Saubermann pressed his lips together in frustration. He had already made the Levers a generous offer, saying that Frau Lever could sell tickets, and Herr Lever could succeed Herr Geschlieder, yet that was scoffed at by the arrogant upstarts. The way Herr Saubermann saw it, such an upstanding man wasn’t at all interested in ongoing access to the portraits of his grandparents; he wanted the paintings themselves, and that was that. There was no working with the Levers, so only under the Saubermanns’ personal leadership and control would the objects see the light of day, such as here in the panopticon. Then our skillful leader added that that was enough about those paintings and we should see the rest of the exhibit. So we moved on and came to some objects that I remembered from the hermitage. One had to admit that everything was presented much more vividly. This entirely convinced me that the splendid exhibit represented the high point of the tour, for there was the coffin, surrounded by the artful figures that had so carefully been stowed away in the hermitage, and afterward had been so ignobly hauled away. Here, however, the mannequins didn’t sit around the table during the Passover feast but, rather, haphazardly around and at a considerable distance from the coffin, such that one could easily walk between it and the families with plenty of room. Each mannequin could be observed from any side, each detail clear, there never having been such access to these figures before. Indeed, I heard within me a voice say, “Away from here, away!” But there was no chance of that, for my companions and everyone else standing around would prevent it, though I didn’t just feel as if I were under arrest but, rather, a feeling awoke within me that said, “Stay, stay!” It was as if I were under a spell, everything preventing me from moving, a hammering sense of amazement that took away any thought of escape, such that my legs, which wanted to run far away, were stripped of all power to flee. Also before me was what I had long not allowed my eyes to believe, the mannequin of an old man standing up, though his raised
hands grasped nothing, presumably not having been entrusted with the laws. Herr Saubermann seemed to know why the old man stood up, looming in all his shakiness, only looking off into the emptiness and attending the coffin, beyond which any gaze was swallowed up in the fathomless measures of past and future time. This was the end of history. It was arresting and surpassed everything that I recalled from the days of the hermitage. I didn’t look at the mannequins for long, for they did not live for those who had died and the coffin reminded one that this was so, and thus I gave it my full attention. The proper state of reflection occurring within me, it was soon interrupted by an exultant voice.
“Look, Landau,” said Herr Saubermann. “That is my greatest triumph. First of all, it was not easy to save this memorial and move it here at great cost and against the wishes of the local authorities and those back there, and then to restore it at even greater expense. Second, I needed all my skills of persuasion in order to convince my dear assistants and colleagues, Dr. Kulka and Schnabelberger, of the extraordinary worth and educational value of this unique object. But now they both hold the same opinion as me. The past has been saved for good, and not just brought into the present but also through some measure of care preserved for the future. So it was, so it is, so it will be.”
As a special favor, I was allowed to touch the figures and then the coffin as well. I shied away from touching the mannequins and only lightly touched the grandfather. Then I drew closer to the coffin, it looking similar to the one that I had ridden to the Sociology Conference while accompanied by Brian and Derek. I quietly mentioned this coincidence, though my voice all but failed me. Everyone looked at me approvingly, as if it had taken me to reveal this to them.
“You have good eyes,” explained Herr Saubermann. “It is, of course, highly symbolic. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you whether that really is the coffin on which you rode here, for I don’t have the authority of an expert in furniture, which among us only Mrs. Mackintosh would have. What’s more, without basic archaeological training it would be hard to know. It’s all such a long time ago. Do you remember? I don’t, that I will openly admit. Everything was wiped out, then everything was good again. It ends up forgotten, no matter if one has the best panopticon in the world. Everything gone, for our memory is poor. But if your hard-nosed scholarly nature should be intrigued by this question, then Herr Birch, whom you know, would be the one to decide the identity of the coffin. It would certainly be worth asking. Though you’ll have to agree, it’s not a matter of outward truth but, rather, inner truth. And so you are right—the similarity is striking.”