Esch said gravely:
“Perhaps at the eleventh hour, Herr Major.”
Huguenau said:
“It isn’t so very late yet … would the Herr Major like to see the other offices too? the ladder, I’m afraid, is a little awkward.”
Esch said:
“It was a long way.”
The child said:
“He came on his bicycle.”
The Major said dreamily:
“A long way … and he is not yet at the goal.”
Huguenau said:
“We’ve the worst already behind us … we’ve two pages of advertisements already … and if we could secure the orders of the military authorities as well …”
Esch said:
“It’s not a question of advertisements.”
Huguenau said:
“We haven’t even a block of an Iron Cross—I suppose you think that doesn’t matter either!”
The child pointed at the Major’s chest:
“There’s an Iron Cross.”
The Major said:
“The true badge of honour is always invisible, only sin is visible.”
The child said:
“Lying is the greatest sin.”
Esch said:
“The invisible is at our backs, we come out of falsehood, and if we do not find the way we must lose ourselves in the darkness of the invisible.”
The child said:
“Nobody hears you when you tell a lie.”
The Major said:
“God hears it.”
Huguenau said:
“Nobody hears a deserter, nobody recognizes him, even if all he says is right.”
Esch said:
“Nobody can see another in the darkness.”
The Major said:
“Visible, and yet hidden from each other.”
The child said:
“God doesn’t hear it.”
Esch said:
“He will hear again the voices of His children.”
Huguenau said:
“It’s best for nobody to hear one, one must fight one’s way by oneself … we’ll bring it off yet.”
The Major said:
“We have forsaken Him and He has left us to ourselves … so alone that we can no longer find each other.”
Esch said:
“Imprisoned in our loneliness.”
The child said:
“No one will be able to find me.”
The Major said:
“The one we forsake we must seek for ever.”
Huguenau said:
“Do you want to hide?”
“Yes,” said the child.
The milky grey sky began to break up; in several places it became blue. Barefooted and inaudible, the little girl had flitted away. Then the men went too. Each in a different direction.
CHAPTER LVIII
STORY OF THE SALVATION ARMY GIRL IN BERLIN (9)
Well, they were with me again yesterday, Nuchem and Marie, and we sang together. At my suggestion we sang first of all the hymn:
To battle out we march elate,
Firm faith our dauntless gage,
We do not fear the Devil’s hate,
And laugh at all his rage.
Our banner proudly waves before
And fills our souls with might;
Still in the forefront as of yore,
It leads us to the fight.
Chorus
We will be faithful to our King,
Till death we will be true,
And follow on through everything
Our flag gold, red and blue.
We sang it to the air of Andreas Hofer’s song, Marie accompanied it on the lute, Nuchem hummed and beat time with his soft smooth hands. During the singing they exchanged glances a few times, but it may have been that I only fancied so, for Dr Litwak’s talk had made me suspicious. At any rate I bawled out the song as loud as I could, and that for various reasons. For on the one hand I wanted to reassure Nuchem’s family, who doubtless were assembled outside my door by this time: the children in the very front, probably, with their ears pressed against the door panel, then the white-bearded grandfather with his body bent forward, his hand forming an ear-trumpet, while the women kept more in the background, perhaps one of them weeping quietly to herself, the whole bunch gradually drawing nearer, yet not daring to open the door,—yes, on the one hand I wanted to reassure them, but on the other hand it was a sadistic pleasure to me to know that they were out there, and to allure and repulse them at the same moment. But by bawling so loudly I wished also to say to Nuchem and Marie: don’t stand on ceremony, my children, you see that I’m occupied with myself and my voice, unbutton your frock-coat, Nuchem, lift the tails of your coat and make a bow to the lady, and you, Marie, throw off your prudishness, lift your skirt with two fingers, and dance, both of you, dance to Jerusalem, dance in my bed, make yourselves at home. And so I no longer even sang Marie’s words to the air, but my own, the authentic ones: “To Mantua in chains was led, Brave Hofer leal and true,” unfortunately that was all I knew, but I modulated these lines to the tune and found that they went beautifully.
At last, however, Marie concluded the song with the flourish that always rounds off songs sung to the lute, and she said:
“We did that splendidly, now as a reward we’ll have a little prayer too.”
And already she had slipped down on her knees before her chair, raised her clasped hands to her face, and begun the hundred and twenty-second psalm:
“I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord. Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Jerusalem. Jerusalem is builded as a city that is compact together: Whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give thanks unto the name of the Lord.”
I could not have stopped her except by smashing the lute over her head. So I knelt down too, stretched my arms out and prayed: “Let us make tea for the daughters and young men of Israel, let us pour rum into the tea, war-rum, hero’s rum, synthetic rum, that we may forget our loneliness, for our loneliness is too great, whether it be in Zion or in the holy city of Berlin.” But while I was uttering these words and beating my breast with my fists, Nuchem had got up: he planted himself before me, he turned his bottom to me, and with his praying countenance fixed on the open window, at which the greasy and torn curtains fluttered in the night breeze like a faded gold, red and blue army banner, he set his swaying body in motion. Oh, that was indecent, that was indecent of Nuchem, who after all was my friend.
I sprang to the door, tore it open and shouted:
“Come in, Israel, drink tea with us, behold the obscene postures of my friend and the unveiled face of the lady.”
The lobby, however, the lobby was empty. They had slipped away, they had scattered into their rooms, the women tumbling over the children, the rheumatic grandfather, who could not straighten himself, along with them.
“Splendid,” said I, closing the door and turning once more to my familiar spirits, “splendid, my children, now give each other the kiss of Zion.”
But the two of them stood there with their arms hanging, and did not dare to seize each other or to dance; smiling sheepishly they simply stood there. And finally we sat down and drank tea.
CHAPTER LIX
THE SYMPOSIUM OR DIALOGUE ON REDEMPTION
Incapable of communicating himself to others, incapable of breaking out of his isolation, doomed to remain the mere actor of his life, the deputy of his own ego—all that any human being can know of another is a mere symbol, the symbol of an ego that remains beyond our grasp, possessing no more value than that of a symbol; and all that can be told is the symbol of a symbol, a symbol at a second, third, nth. remove, asking for representation in the true double sense of the word. Therefore it will raise no difficulty for anyone, and will at least make for brevity, if we imagine that Herr and Frau Esch together with the Major and Herr Huguenau find themselves in a scene on the stage, inv
olved in a performance which no human being can escape: that of play-acting.
At the table in ESCH’S summer-house are sitting FRAU ESCH, on her right the MAJOR, on her left HUGUENAU, opposite her (with his back to the audience) HERR ESCH. The evening meal is over. On the table are the bread and the wine, the latter of which HERR ESCH has procured from a vineyard proprietor who advertises in his paper.
Darkness is beginning to fall. In the background the contours of the mountains can still be discerned. Two candles burn within glass globes to protect them from the breeze: moths flutter round them. The jerky asthmatic pounding of the printing-press can be heard.
ESCH: May I fill your glass again, Herr Major?
HUGUENAU: Tip-top wine, no doubt about it … we Alsatians must take a back seat after this when our wine is mentioned. Does the Herr Major know our Alsatian wine?
MAJOR (absently): I don’t think so.
HUGUENAU: Well, it’s a harmless wine … we Alsatians are altogether harmless … an honest tipple you could call it, all frank and above-board (he laughs) and all it does to you is to make you simply and naturally tight … you go to sleep when you’ve had enough, that’s all.
ESCH: To be drunk is never natural, it’s a poisoned state.
HUGUENAU: Well, well, I can remember occasions when you were quite willing to take a glass or two over the score … for instance … well, may I mention the Palatine Tavern, Herr Esch? … besides (he regards ESCH attentively) you don’t strike me as being so free from poison as all that.
MAJOR: Your attacks on our friend Esch are very regrettable, Herr Huguenau.
ESCH: Don’t mind him, Herr Major, he’s not in earnest.
HUGUENAU: Yes, I am in earnest … I always say straight out what I think … our friend Esch is a wolf in sheep’s clothing … yes, I stick to that … and, by your leave, he has his little orgies in private.
ESCH (contemptuously): No wine has ever upset my applecart yet.…
HUGUENAU: That’s you all over, Herr Esch, trying to keep sober so that you don’t give yourself away.
ESCH: … now and then I may take a drop too much, yes, and then the world becomes so simple that you would think it was made of nothing but truth … as simple as in a dream … simple and yet brazenly full of false names … the right names for things aren’t to be found.…
HUGUENAU: You’d better drink consecrated wine, then you’d soon find those names of yours … or the future Socialist State, if that’s what you’re after.
MAJOR: One shouldn’t blaspheme even in jest … even wine and bread are symbols of the divine.
(HUGUENAU notices his mistake and reddens.)
FRAU ESCH: Oh, Herr Major, it’s always like this when Herr Huguenau and my husband are together … chaff may be a sign of friendship, but sometimes it’s really past endurance, the way he drags in the mud everything that is holy to my poor husband.
HUGUENAU: Holy! Pure sham! (He has once more regained his composure and ceremoniously relights his cigar which has gone out.)
ESCH (possessed by his train of thought): The truth that comes to you in dreams walks on crutches … (he strikes on the table) the whole world goes on crutches … a hobbling monstrosity …
HUGUENAU (interested): An invalid?
ESCH: … if there is even one single error in the world, if at any point at all the false passes for true, then … yes, then the whole world is false … then everything becomes unreal … diabolically conjured away.…
HUGUENAU: Abracadabra, it’s gone.…
MAJOR (without paying any attention to HUGUENAU): NO, friend Esch, it’s the opposite way about: there need be only one righteous man among a thousand sinners …
HUGUENAU: … the great magician Esch.…
ESCH (rudely): What do you know about magic? (shouts at him) I should think you’re more like a conjurer, a juggler, a knife-thrower.…
HUGUENAU: Herr Esch, you are in company, remember yourself.
ESCH (more calmly): Magic and juggling are devil’s work, they’re the real evil, they make the confusion still worse …
MAJOR: Where knowledge fails, that is where evil begins.…
ESCH: … but first the man must come who will blot out every error and bring order, who will take upon him the sacrificial death, that the world may be redeemed to a new innocence, so that from the dead new life may arise.…
MAJOR: The one who will take the penance upon him … (with assurance) but He has already come: it was He who destroyed false knowledge and drove out the magicians …
ESCH: … the darkness still remains, and in the darkness the world is collapsing … nailed to the cross and in the hour of final loneliness pierced by the spear.…
HUGUENAU: Hm, very unpleasant.
MAJOR: A dreadful darkness was round Him, a half-light of heavy uncertainty, and no one approached Him in His loneliness to help Him … yet He took man’s sin upon Him, He redeemed the world from sin …
ESCH: … there has been nothing until now but murder and counter-murder, and order will only come when we awaken.…
MAJOR: We must take the penance upon us, we must be awakened out of our sin …
ESCH: … nothing is decided yet, we are still in prison and we must wait …
MAJOR: … we are encompassed by sin, and our light is darkness …
ESCH: … we are waiting for the Judgment, we still have a respite and can still begin a new life … evil has not yet triumphed …
MAJOR: … when we are delivered from the darkness, delivered by grace … then evil will vanish as if it had never been …
ESCH: … like an evil magic, a corrupt magic …
MAJOR: … evil is always outside the world, outside its frontiers: only the man who steps over the world’s frontiers and steps out of the truth can fall into the abyss of evil.
ESCH: … we are standing on the edge of the abyss … on the edge of the dark gully …
HUGUENAU: That’s too deep for us, what, Frau Esch?
(FRAU ESCH smooths her hair back, then lays a finger on her lips as a sign to HUGUENAU to be silent.)
ESCH: Many must still die, many must sacrifice themselves, so that room may be made for the son who shall build the house anew … only then will the mists thin away and the new life will come, radiant and innocent.
MAJOR: The evil we see is only an illusion, it takes many shapes, but it is never really there itself … a symbol of nothingness—only divine grace is real.
HUGUENAU (who does not intend to be relegated to the part of a silent listener): Well, if robbery or child-rape or desertion or embezzlement are only illusions, it’s a very cheerful outlook.
MAJOR: Evil is non-existent … divine grace has redeemed the world from evil.
ESCH: The harder the tribulation, the deeper the darkness, the sharper the whizzing knives, the nearer is the kingdom of redemption.
MAJOR: Only the good is real and true … there is only one sin: not to desire the good, not to desire knowledge, not to have good-will.…
HUGUENAU (eagerly): Yes, Herr Major, that’s right … myself for instance, I’m certainly no angel … (reflectively) … there’s this to be said, in that case one couldn’t punish anyone … a deserter, for instance, who had good-will couldn’t be shot simply to make an example of him.
ESCH: No one stands so high that he dare judge his fellows, and no one is so depraved that his eternal soul can lose its claim to reverence.
HUGUENAU: Quite right.
MAJOR: The man who desires evil can desire good at the same time, but the man who does not desire good has made divine grace bankrupt … it is the sign of obstinacy, inertia of feeling.
ESCH: It’s not a matter of good or bad works.…
HUGUENAU: I beg your pardon, Herr Major, but that doesn’t seem quite to fit the case … once I lost six hundred marks in Reutlingen through a man going bankrupt, a tidy sum of money, and why? because the man was mad, he had religious mania, of course I wasn’t to know that … and right enough, he was acquitte
d and stuck in a lunatic asylum. But my money was gone.
ESCH: What do you want to infer from that?
HUGUENAU: Why, there you have a good man, and yet he did evil works … (grinning) and if you were to do me in, Herr Esch, you would be acquitted on the plea of religious mania, but if I were to do you in I would lose my head … what do you say to that, Herr Esch, with your sham piety? Hm? (He glances at the MAJOR, seeking approval.)
MAJOR: The madman is like the dreamer; his truth is a false truth … he curses his own child … nobody can be the mouthpiece of God without suffering for it … he is singled out.…
ESCH: He lives in a false reality … we are all still living in a false reality … by rights we should all be madmen, mad in our loneliness.
HUGUENAU: Yes, but I’ll be shot and he won’t! I beg your pardon, Herr Major, but that’s just where he shows his hypocrisy … (becoming heated), ah, merde, la sainte religion et les curés à faire des courbettes auprès de la guillotine, ah, merde, alors.… I’m an enlightened man, but that’s a bit too much for me!
MAJOR: Come, come, Herr Huguenau, this Moselle seems to be dangerous to a man of your temperament (HUGUENAU makes an apologetic gesture) … to take the penance and the chastisement voluntarily upon us, as we have had to take the war, because we have sinned … that isn’t hypocrisy.
ESCH (absently): Yes, to take men’s sins upon you … in the final hour of loneliness.…
The printing-machine stops: the pounding falls silent; the chirping of the crickets can be heard. A wind stirs the leaves of the fruit-trees. Round the moon a few white irradiated clouds can be seen. In the sudden silence the conversation falls away and ceases.
FRAU ESCH: How good the silence is.
ESCH: Sometimes it seems as if the world were only one huge dreadful machine that never stops … the war and everything … it runs by laws that we don’t understand … impudent self-assured laws, engineers’ laws … every man must do what is prescribed for him, without turning his head to right or left … every man is a machine that one can only see from outside, a hostile machine … oh, the machine is the root of evil and the Evil One is the machine. Their order is the void that must come … before Time can begin again.…
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