This poor European woman who had to sell herself oversees gradually turned into a depressing symbol. Mr. Kaufmann with the disorderly libido cast his shadow over Europe. Kobler was quite fierce. And when at last he set foot on German soil again, he already bore a deep grudge against all European borders. He bought himself all the available French, English, and Italian newspapers at the very same border station, despite not being able to read a single one of them. But he wanted to make a point!
He could hardly wait to meet somebody who understood German. But the train was quite empty. And on top of it all, absolutely no opportunities to enter into a political discussion with one of the other travelers presented themselves.
It was only right before Munich that he could finally declare to an older gentleman his feelings and reasons for an absolute and expeditiously executed consolidation of Europe, especially in the field of economics, not least because of the Bolshevik menace. But the gentleman cut him off derisively: “I too was once a European, young man! But now—”
—And now nationalistic slime par excellence surged from his mouth.
You see, at the turn of the century this gentleman had married a racy Frenchwoman from Metz. She started packing on the pounds just before the World War, and in such an alarming way that the Romance race started to disgust him. It was not a happy marriage. He was a real domestic tyrant and she was secretly delighted about the Treaty of Versailles.
“From what I know of the French,” he screamed at Kobler, “they’ll never vacate the Rhineland! Never of their own free will, unless we compel them with force! Or what, do you think things can keep going on like this!? Don’t you see that we’re stumbling into a new European world-conflagration!? Don’t you know what that’s called: Amunullah and Habibullah?! Just think for a second about Abd el Krim! And what’s the Christian General Feng doing back there?!”
He was quite fanatical.
“Oh, I know the French all right!” he roared. “Every Frenchman and Frenchwoman ought to be gassed! I don’t draw the line with women, not me! Or what, do you believe in Pan-Europe or something?!”
“I have no time for your idiocy right now!” answered Kobler, and left the compartment, disgruntled. He was really piqued.
Out in the corridor, he discovered a friendly gentleman who was standing at the window. Kobler approached him and the gentleman did not seem averse to a discussion because he began speaking of his own accord, namely about the beautiful weather. But Kobler did not let him finish and instead immediately explained to him categorically that he was an absolute Pan-European. And this all sounded almost bellicose.
The gentleman listened attentively to him. Then he said that Barcelona was very pretty. Sadly he had never been there, just to the European countries that had waged war with us, except for Great Britain and Portugal, so almost all of Europe. And it was indeed high time, said the gentleman, that the whole of Europe finally came to an understanding, in spite of all the historical nonsense and hostile namby-pamby stuff that kept poisoning the atmosphere between the different nations, like for instance between Bavaria and Prussia. And sure, the Pan-Europe that people were striving for today would by no means be the true one, but at least it would serve as the foundation upon which the true Pan-Europe could develop.
At the word “true,” the gentleman smiled quite strangely. Then he explained that it was the same way with this word as it was with the expression “social mobility.” That is, people were also frequently forced to use this expression instead of “liberation of the proletariat.”
—And then the gentleman smiled again, so strangely that Kobler could not make head nor tail of it.
Now came Munich.
As the gentleman had already politely taken his leave, Kobler was unable to figure out exactly who and what he was.
PART TWO:
FRÄULEIN POLLINGER BECOMES PRACTICAL
“Only he who changes
remains akin to me”
CHAPTER 1
NOTHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY TOOK PLACE in Schellingstrasse while Herr Kobler was out of town. Life went on more or less smoothly, and nothing exciting happened to any of his acquaintances, with one exception. But exceptions, as you well know, prove the rule.
This exception was Fräulein Anna Pollinger. Out of the clearest of blue skies, she suddenly found herself out of work, and through no fault of her own. She lost her position in the rental car company because of the disastrous economy. This company had collapsed, in the truest sense of the word, overnight, from Tuesday to Wednesday. So on Wednesday afternoon there were thirty-two employees out on the street. And even the employer himself was now destitute, partly because the rapacious rates and drafts had depleted his resources and partly because he had transferred the larger half of these resources to his wife’s name in the nick of time.
Anna, too, received a white envelope. She opened it and read:
Testimonial
Fräulein Anna Pollinger, who was employed as an office girl in the rental car company “National” from 03.01.29 until 09.27.29, proved herself to be honest, hardworking and dutiful. Fräulein Pollinger is leaving as a consequence of the company’s liquidation. Even our company has become a victim of Germany’s hardship. Failing this, we would not have wanted to dismiss Fräulein Pollinger and wish her all the best for her future life.
Rental Car Company “National”
Sgd. Lindt.
CHAPTER 2
ANNA LIVED WITH HER AUNT BECAUSE SHE NO longer had any parents. But this only occurred to her once in a while. That is, she had never actually seen her father because he had left her mother quite early on. And she never got along well with her mother because the mother had been very embittered about the lousy world. When she was still really small, her mother would constantly forbid her to sing to her doll, and each time she did this more maliciously than the last. The mother did not know any songs and so was an evil person. She never deigned to give a living soul anything, not even her own daughter. She died of a headcold shortly after the World War. But for the life of her Anna could not really feel sad about it, even though it was a very sad autumn day.
From then on she lived with her aunt in Schellingstrasse, only not next to the Ludwig’s church in the posh section of the street, but rather where it breaks off. The aunt rented out two rooms on the fifth floor here and carried on the business of her deceased husband on the first floor. The store was hardly larger than a closet. The sign read Antiquarian Bookshop, and there were torn magazines and dusty erotic postcards in the shop window.
The aunt had rented out one of the two rooms to a certain Herr Kastner. The other one was not currently being leased because it was bug-infested. For the time being Anna was able to sleep in this room instead of with her aunt in the kitchen. Herr Kastner had brought in the bugs, but you could never prove it because he was very cunning.
When Anna came home with her testimonial, the aunt ranted terribly about the whole postwar period and wanted to throw Anna out, but naturally this was not meant to be taken seriously. The aunt had a kind heart and her constant ranting and raving was just a weakness of hers. After all, Anna had already been unemployed a number of times, the last time lasting eight weeks. That was last winter. Back then Herr Kastner said to the aunt: “I hear that your dear niece is unemployed. I’ve got the best connections in the film industry, so it’s all up to your dear, unemployed niece.”
That stuff about the film industry was of course a lie. Herr Kastner had quite different things in mind. In August, for instance, he took her to the movies. The movie Ten Days That Shook the World was playing. Kastner kept trying to grope her the entire time, but she fought back because his pivot teeth gave her the creeps. Kastner was outraged afterward and asked her how she felt about somebody taking a young lady out to a feature film and “not even getting to do that?!” But eight days later he gave her a friendly greeting again. You see, in the meantime he had found a cashier from Augsburg who let him have his way with her.
CHAPTER 3
THAT EVENING ANNA WENT TO BED VERY EARLY. While getting undressed, she heard in the other room that Kastner had remained home for a change. He was talking to himself as though he were memorizing something, but she could not understand a word. Suddenly Kastner left his room and stopped in front of her door. Then he walked in without knocking.
He positioned himself in front of her like she was a shop window. He was wearing his modern pants and shirtsleeves and smelt of sweet shaving cream.
She sat up in bed and could not figure out what he was doing there. Kastner had a strangely official expression on his face, as though he did not want anything from her at all.
“Dearest Fräulein!” and took a very ironic bow. “Honny soit qui mal y pense!”
Kaster’s speech was very literary because he actually wanted to be a journalist, but his mother had thought differently. You see, her teeth gave her a lot of grief and she said: “Dental technicians are mankind’s benefactors. I want my son to be a benefactor!”
He was very attached to his mother and so he became a dental technician, although, sadly, not a benefactor because instead of precision he had an imagination. He was fortunate that the war broke out shortly after he opened his practice. He enlisted and became a military dental technician. After the armistice he asked himself: “Am I a benefactor? No, I’m not a benefactor. I’m a typical bohemian type of guy and such a type of guy belongs in easygoing Montmartre and not in the morgue.”
He wanted to be a journalist again, but he wound up in the film industry because he had a good conservative profile and knew an assistant director. He worked as an extra and even played a minor role in the film The Massacre of the Innocents, or Glory to God in the Highest.
The film was not shown anywhere and he was thrown out of the glass house for taking naked photographs of an underage extra who played the part of one of the children of Bethlehem.
Now he was pacing up and down in front of Anna’s bed, taking pride in his dialectics. He loved to hear himself talk and he felt on form so he went at it like a bad op-ed.
At first he explained to her that unapproachable women only existed in fairy tales, sagas, and madhouses. He had, you see, given thought to all of these problems and was “speaking here from my own experience acquired through personal, sexual, and sexual-ethical curiosity.” And this is how he immediately recognized that she (Anna) wasn’t a frigid beauty, but rather a deep, calm water—
“What business is that of yours?” she cut him off in a remarkably matter-of-fact way. She liked to see him getting worked up about her yet again. She even yawned.
“Of course it’s none of my business per se,” answered Kastner, suddenly acting very straightforward. “I only had your future in mind, Fräulein Pollinger!”
Future! And it was staring at her again, sitting at the edge of the bed and knitting stockings. The future was an old, withered little woman that resembled her aunt, only it was much older, dirtier, and shiftier.
“I’m knitting, I’m knitting,” nodded the future, “I’m knitting stockings for Anna!”
And Anna yelled: “Just leave me alone! What do you want from me!?”
“I personally don’t want anything from you!” objected Kastner somberly.
The future gave her a furtive look.
Anna did not have anything else to say; Kastner smiled complacently. That is, it had just occurred to him that he would make a good animal tamer. He fixed his gaze on Anna as if she were at least a seal. He would have loved to force her to balance a ball on her nose. He could already hear the applause and was surprised that he wanted to take a bow.
“What the heck was that!?” He gave himself a jolt and, horror-stricken, fled from the circus, which was suddenly on fire, and barked out: “Fräulein Pollinger, let me get to the point! You see, the way you’re conducting your erotic life can no longer be tolerated. Here you are again, jobless, and yet you’re constantly hanging around elements like that wonderful Herr Kobler—”
“I don’t hang around anybody!” she protested vehemently.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he consoled her. “You don’t have to tell me, Fräulein, that you’re not capable of love! Sure, you could get mixed up with any old Kobler, but when you feel like you might be falling in love with all your heart and soul, what do you do? You back down right away. And of course this is not meant to be an accusation. What with your financial situation you’re of course looking to avoid all superfluous complications. But what I’m accusing you of is simply this: you’re wasting yourself. Nowadays even sensuality has got to be made productive. I’m by no means asking you to prostitute yourself, but I’m begging you, for your own sake, to please be more practical!”
“Practical?” thought Anna. It seemed to her like she had never heard this word before. She really should think about herself more often, she continued thinking cautiously. She had the feeling that she was blind and needed to grope her way forward. She actually did think of herself frequently, she continued, but probably just too slowly. If Kastner had never been right about anything, he was surely right about this. She would have to think everything over carefully. So what’s “everything”?
Ever since there were gods and men—put briefly: since there were rulers and ruled—ever since then the phrase holds true: “In the beginning there was prostitution!”
“Discretion is a point of honor!” she heard Kastner saying. And when she recognized him again, he put on an exceedingly sincere face.
You see, it’s like this: when the rulers recognized that they could murder and plunder in a considerably more amusing manner by cloaking themselves in the idealism of a certain crucified person—that is, ever since this crucified person preached that the souls of women were coequal with those of men, ever since then “discretion is a point of honor” has been the motto in prostitution’s coat of arms.
So who would dare to accuse the rulers of today of divesting not only the work but also the relationship between man and woman of its varnished lies and uplifting self-deception by simply posing the question: “So, then, how much does love cost?” Can you blame them for doing it in the full knowledge of their economic power, and for the sake of more affordable bookkeeping? No, you cannot because they are, you see, exceedingly honest.
“How so?” asked Anna, and gave Kastner a perplexed look.
He paused for effect. Then he said: “I’m offering you an opportunity to move into better circles. Do you know the etcher Achner? We’re very close friends. He’s a highly talented artist and right now he’s looking for a suitable model. You could earn ten marks as easy as nothing and you’d have magnificent opportunities to develop. That is, the elites of society all congregate in his atelier—all people with their own cars. Now those are people! You see, my dear Fräulein Pollinger, it actually pains me to see you squandering nature’s gifts in such an impractical manner!”
“It pains me,” the dear Fräulein Pollinger heard him say. She smiled. “And so this is how you deceive yourself,” she said softly. And suddenly she felt sorry for Kastner. She even felt sorry for his pivot teeth, the little ones and the big ones alike.
“Right now I’m thinking in a radically selfless manner.” Kastner gave her a nod and acted really moved.
But of course that was radically different. You see, when he heard that Anna had lost her job, he immediately rushed over to that etcher and offered him a reasonably priced model: medium-size, slender, dirty blond, and she would also know how to take a joke. As it happens, the etcher had been searching for just such a model, so he agreed right away. “Well,” said Kastner, “I’ll show up once you’ve etched one out. I’ll bring some sloe gin, you’ve already got the gramophone—”
Anna was silent.
“There was just a World War,” the thought suddenly crossed her mind. “You can’t just pretend there wasn’t—you mustn’t either.”
CHAPTER 4
THINGS WERE STILL NOT ANY CLEARER FOR HER after Kastner left. All rig
ht, so she had given him her word of honor that she would go to Achner tomorrow. Ten marks is a lot of dough. And after all, being a model would be something absolutely reputable, it would be a normal profession. But “getting more practical”—that’s a weighty piece of advice. Got to think that over carefully. You see, poor girls can quickly go off the rails, and nobody ever returns from there.
Kastner’s tempting prophecies granteth her not a moment’s rest. But then other notes sounded, and these were sinister chords. She really had to peg herself down in order to start thinking logically. Only gradually did her thoughts begin to assume more definite shapes, getting more and more placid and acting hesitantly.
Now somebody was standing behind her, but she did not turn around. She clearly sensed that it had to be an eerie gentleman. And then suddenly the room was full of such gentlemen. They all moved alike and seemed very familiar to her.
“So how did that go again?” she heard the eerie gentleman ask. His voice sounded awfully soft.
“It was like this,” said one of the gentlemen. “It was at the Oktoberfest, actually right in front of Lionella the Lion Girl’s booth. Anna was wondering whether this freak was also still a virgin when she met her academic.”
“And where’s this academic?” inquired the eerie gentleman.
“The dear doctor is already dead,” answered another gentleman, and gave Anna a friendly nod. “The dear doctor is in hell,” he continued, “because he had a bad disposition. You see, he stole Anna’s virginity. And that was not an especially heroic deed since she was drunk on beer.”
And then a third gentleman jumped up from his chair and shouted at her: “Come on, Fräulein Pollinger, stop telling such disgraceful lies!”
“Right now you’re acting as though you hadn’t been constantly seeking to finally lose it. So give us an answer already!”
The Eternal Philistine Page 12