Inside the great hall, she was halted by the display of power. Hitler’s megalomaniac grandeur loomed. Lily almost laughed at the blatant attempt to mimic the excesses of ancient Rome in modernist style of the thirties. Everything was of a grand scale: the giant paintings, the impossibly high ceilings, the vast entry hall, all letting the French know who dominated. Lily hurried to the information desk and addressed the woman there.
“Excusez-moi, madame. I have an appointment with Heinrich Werden. Can you tell me where to find him?”
“Herr Werden?” She pronounced his name with a German accent.
“Oui,” Lily replied.
“I’ll let him know you are here. Whom shall I announce?”
Lily gave her name, hoping it wouldn’t end up on some register somewhere, embedded in the Nazi files.
“Please take a seat, Miss Heller.” She pointed to a nearby bench, then left. Lily lost sight of her as she disappeared in the enormous showroom. Visitors paused in the entry to get their bearings, then descended the stairs into the temple to Nazi advances in science and technology. The woman returned and announced that Herr Werden was busy and would join her in a few minutes.
Lily thanked her and idly watched her return to her post. What would the woman be doing in a few years? Lily wondered. Guarding a concentration camp? A huge painting hanging over the red benches depicted an architect showing his blueprint to eager workers, a not-so-subtle allegory of Germany’s empire building. Lily frowned.
“Miss Heller!”
She turned, and there was Heinrich, wearing a sharp suit, his hair carefully combed. He took her hand and smiled hello.
“I’m glad you’re here. Since our last conversation, I’ve been eager to show you that your fears about Germany are not justified.”
Lily knew she had to act like the queen of hypocrites. She smiled back.
“Of course I expect you will show me otherwise, Herr Werden.”
He insisted she call him Heinrich.
“Then you may call me Lily, Heinrich.” She forced another smile. He held out his arm and taking it, they began their tour. They paused at the entrance to the exhibit hall, where he bowed and waved Lily in. She started back with a small cry. It was impressive, a broad corridor flanked on both sides by glassed-in display cases. Above, deco chandeliers hung from both sides of the incredibly high ceiling, a lit panel that gave the impression of bringing the outdoors in to shine on the Nazi empire. At the far end of the grand hall, a short staircase led to a huge mosaic depicting, again, the eagle, spreading its reach wide.
“Tell me, how do you find our pavilion?” Heinrich asked.
“A little too pompous for my taste!” Lily burst out, then thought to herself, Crap, why can’t I keep my mouth shut?
But Heinrich just laughed. “What I admire, Lily, is your frankness. It is true that I also found the building a bit bombastic. But that doesn’t indicate evil, just a big vision, right? International expositions are a bit of a competition, a bit of flag waving, don’t you think?”
Lily nodded, choosing to stay silent this time.
“The German pavilion has been admired by visitors since the opening of the Expo. That’s what’s important. You know, it’s one of the great architects of the Third Reich, Albert Speer, who designed the pavilion.”
He led her down the stairs to the enormous hall. They joined a crowd pausing to inspect the showcases insisting upon the renewal of science and technology in Nazi Germany. A large painting seemed to Lily a glorification of work, of family, and of the fatherland in the style of Stalinist propaganda posters. The only difference was that the painted figures met the Nazi’s Aryan criteria.
This “art” interested Lily not at all. But she didn’t reveal this to Heinrich. She smiled, asked questions, and adopted a look of perpetual amazement at what he was explicating. Heinrich glowed under her attention and continued the tour with relish. They passed more than an hour contemplating the greatness and splendor of Nazism. Lily looked for an opening to broach the subject of the book, but didn’t find one. As they approached the end of the hall, she despaired at ever having a chance to bring it up. A silver Mercedes, with sleek, aerodynamic contours, attracted visitors, particularly male ones. To Lily, the car resembled a spaceship or a wing of an airplane, its sleek surface revealing no discernible moving parts. Lily drifted away and lingered in front of a display case holding what looked like complicated dental instruments. Just as she was about to bring up the book as a complete non sequitur, someone called out to Heinrich. A man with clipped dark hair and a military demeanor approached.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Heinrich told Lily.
“Of course,” she murmured, but the pair had already stepped away. Lily gazed at the high ceiling, a panel of lights that illuminated the room in what seemed like daylight. She tried to come up with a plan to get at the book, but grew distracted when she heard Heinrich’s voice raised. The conversation had grown heated, and Lily caught the other man gesturing at her with a look of great displeasure. But Heinrich smiled and placed a hand on the man’s arm. His friend shook it off and glowered at Lily. She shrank against one of the pillars of the hall. Finally, the men parted and Heinrich rejoined Lily, who grew more nervous the longer she stayed in the exhibit hall. The grand hall had become even more crowded and Lily had begun to perspire.
“Everything okay?” she asked, smiling nervously.
“But of course,” Heinrich assured her. “That is my childhood friend Karl, who seems to think I need looking after. I know his family well, and he has plans for me to marry his sister.”
“Oh,” Lily said, startled. The thought of him having a normal family life at home in Germany was at odds with her image of him as a Nazi.
“No matter, nothing to concern yourself with. My dear Lily, how about if we go outside for a breath of fresh air. I imagine you’re tired by this long visit.”
“Lovely,” she said, as if he had just suggested a stroll in the countryside.
“Allons-y, alors.”
Together they made their way through the crowd toward the entrance. Heinrich complimented her along the way, expressing his delight at her company, claiming she had been the most charming and attentive visitor he’d ever received.
I’m a shoe-in for Hollywood, Lily thought, and with this, she began to giggle. To her horror, found herself unable to stop. Heinrich peered at her with curiosity.
“But my dear Lily, what is so funny?”
Hearing that she had by dint of her attentiveness become “his dear Lily” renewed the giggles. Hand over her mouth, she tried to stop. But like laughter started in a solemn church, the forbidden emotion continued unabated. Between gasps, she got out, “I . . . don’t . . . know . . . it’s not . . .”
Heinrich joined in laughing, apparently delighted to see Lily in such a state.
“Aah! You are a constant surprise, my dear Lily. Perhaps if you rest you will feel better.” He led her to a nearby bench and tried to get her to sit down. She apologized between jolts of laughter, wiping tears from her eyes with the handkerchief that Heinrich had offered her. Two old women, primly dressed in long skirts, noticed her outburst and frowned. Finally, Lily regained her composure.
“All better?” Heinrich asked with a condescending smile.
“Yes! Oh, I don’t know what came over me. I must have been nervous.”
“No matter! Nervous or not, I enjoy your laughter. It’s refreshing, Lily.”
He was holding her hand. While laughing, Lily hadn’t noticed that Heinrich had taken the opportunity to touch her while giving her his handkerchief. She gave it back to him and kept her hand to herself. They mounted another set of stairs and emerged onto the roof of the pavilion. People strolled while others lounged on deck chairs under parasols. The more adventurous sat on the parapets. The cool breeze on her face calmed Lil
y, and she wished Paul were at her side instead of Heinrich. Together, they leaned on the parapet, taking in the stunning view of the Exposition along the Seine and past the Eiffel Tower in the Champs de Mars. Beyond, the city of Paris sprawled in its magnificence. From here, the flow of people in the aisles of the Expo looked like ants. She was happy to avoid the crowds. Looking at the loop of the Seine, she breathed slowly, closing her eyes to better appreciate the feeling of expansiveness. Despite the oddness of her circumstances, she felt a thrill to be perched above Paris, her favorite city, like this. Next to her, Heinrich spoke gently.
“I like to take the air here when I work at the pavilion. Sometimes there are too many people down there. It becomes oppressive after a while.”
“I understand completely,” Lily said. “I felt it, too, that I really needed this breath of fresh air. Thank you for bringing me up here.”
He smiled. “Would you like a refreshment?”
“Sure.” The longer she stayed with him, the more she’d have a chance to mention the book.
Heinrich turned to a counter where a man in a waiter’s uniform stood. They spoke in German. The man slipped away and came back with two chairs folded under his arms. Heinrich indicated a place in the shade near the pavilion’s tower and the man set the chairs up quickly.
“Danke!” Heinrich told the man, who remained at attention. Heinrich invited Lily to sit down. She sank back in the canvas chair, relieved to sit after all that walking.
“Would you like something to drink, white wine, champagne, perhaps?”
“Water, please, I’m feeling a little dehydrated.”
Heinrich gave her a puzzled look, but placed their order with the waiter.
“Is this the first time you’ve visited the Exposition?”
“Yes. I must say it’s odd to come back to this place with all the Expo buildings here.”
“You’ve been to Paris before?” Heinrich asked, squinting at her.
The drinks arrived. Lily’s water was served in a tall, frosted glass. Heinrich took his glass of white wine. The interruption provided a screen for Lily, who sensed she’d said too much. Again, she was being forced to knit a new story. She didn’t like lying, but truth be told, she enjoyed the thrill of improvising like this.
“Where were we?” Heinrich said after he sipped his wine. “You’ve been to Paris?”
“Yes. I came here with my parents as a girl. I love this city.”
“I am like you. I love Paris, with her intense intellectual and artistic life. My first visit was two years ago when I had a yearlong post at our Embassy of Cultural Affairs. I find myself truly lucky. And what about you? Are you staying long in Paris or are you returning to the U.S. soon?”
Lily, glass in hand, sighed. “I don’t know yet. It depends on some things I have to take care of.” She took a sip of cool water. “But for now I’m happy to work for Miss Beach. She is a very interesting woman.”
“It is true. Despite her flaws.”
Lily started back slightly. She didn’t like a stranger speaking about Sylvia’s flaws. True, she was cranky and prone to migraines, but Lily sympathized with her.
“What do you mean ‘her flaws’?”
“You know . . . her Sapphic ways.”
Lily took a sip of her water to avoid saying something she’d really regret. This was not what she expected by “flaws.”
“Why do you call that a flaw? Sylvia is free to make choices of her preferred sex, whether you like it or not.”
“But I’m not against it. It’s none of my business.”
“That’s right, it’s not!” Lily said, flushing.
He smiled. “But there must be some difficulties inherent in this kind of choice.”
“Like?”
“Like being rejected by society. She is lucky to live in Paris, to be independent and among the literary and artistic. That deviance is more accepted here.”
“The ‘deviance’? Being a lesbian is an anomaly in your opinion?”
“Of course she does not conform to each person’s norms.But still, that reality can’t be easy.”
She took another sip of water, then spoke calmly.
“What reality? Homosexuality has always existed and always will. And I think that the sculptures out front aren’t without some homosexual connotation. What’s the deal with those two statues of naked men so close to each other, anyway?”
Heinrich burst into laughter at Lily’s indignant question.
“My God, Lily, you’re adorable when you respond with passion! But spare me a doubt. Are you of the same nature as Miss Beach?”
Lily was silent for a moment, unsure of his meaning. Suddenly it hit her: he was asking if she was a lesbian. Blood rushed to her face.
“Huh! And if I say yes, will you be done talking to me? You’ll deny my existence?”
“No, not at all. I would just find it to be a pity,” he said softly, looking her straight in the eye. Lily lowered her eyes, embarrassed by this look, no mystery this time about its meaning.
Finally, she spoke. “If it comforts you, I am not.”
He appeared delighted to hear these words, his smile growing wider, his eyes glistening. Then he spoke.
“I understand that I might have upset you by what I said about Miss Beach. But know that I respect her very much.” He paused, then continued. “Especially since she introduced me to such an intelligent and passionate young woman as you.”
Lily blushed, for once speechless. Despite herself, Lily couldn’t help but think he was even more handsome this close. Her whole body began to heat up, starting with her cheeks and traveling down to her neck, then lower. Then she remembered the reason for this relationship. She wanted to drive the conversation to the book, but her mind was distracted by what he’d just said. A sudden suspicion arose. Was he the Nazi who had provoked the closing of the bookshop, demanding Sylvia’s copy of Finnegan’s Wake? She stared at him, wondering how he could be so friendly with Sylvia and then so callous behind her back. He broke the silence.
“Lily, perhaps what I said disturbed you?”
“Yes, a little. I didn’t expect that. I thought you were more . . . let’s say rigid, constipated a bit.”
Heinrich gave a short bark of laughter and she joined him.
“Constipated! I’ve never heard that one. You really are witty. A little too impulsive, perhaps. But even that’s not so disagreeable.” He squinted again as if inspecting her up close.
“You’re joking?”
“Not at all. I am sincere. It’s very refreshing to talk with you. Quite a change from the conversations with my colleagues.”
Lily nearly cringed, not even wanting to imagine the Nazi conversations behind closed doors. She plunged in.
“Can I ask you what you will do with the book you just bought at Sylvia’s?”
Heinrich’s expression changed, and Lily feared she’d gone too far. He finished his wine, taking a moment before speaking.
“I cannot say much. But I didn’t acquire it for me. I was following orders from the highest level of the state. I’m leaving this weekend to bring it to my superiors in Berlin.”
Lily was jolted by this news. Her salvation was going thousands of miles into Nazi territory and probably to places inaccessible to the ordinary mortal. I’m screwed if I can’t get home, she told herself. She briefly contemplated a life in Paris under the Occupation—at Heinrich’s side, as a collaborator. She shivered.
“Cold?”
She shook her head.
“Why are you interested in this old book, Lily?”
Lily let her imagination guide her words.
“I’m interested in Norse mythology and the history of Scandinavia. The Edda, Thor, Loki, all those . . .” She reeled off these words quickly, things she’d
picked up thumbing through a book on Norse mythology at the bookstore in Denver. She had soon become bored with it, preferring her fantasies of Paris life in the twenties. She continued her fabrication.
“And my family is of Swedish origin. This book seemed relevant to my interest in the myths and realities of my ancestors. As a German you can understand, right?” She paused to gaze into his eyes. “I would have liked to at least browse it for a moment, perhaps discover its secrets.” She smiled coquettishly.
“I didn’t know you were interested in such things, Lily. It’s impressive to see the flame of interest in your eyes. I appreciate that.” He leaned close in complicity.
Suddenly Karl was behind Heinrich, clapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder. He spoke in German. Heinrich excused himself to Lily. After a few minutes of heated discussion with Karl, he returned.
“I’m sorry to leave, but duty calls. Enjoy the rest of your visit at the Expo. I hope I see you again soon.” He kissed Lily’s hand and bowed one last time, then left with Karl.
Lily followed them with her eyes, dismayed to have lost him so suddenly. Just when she felt she was getting closer to the book. She should have played up to him, poured on the honey. Was this really the time for her frankness? She reproached herself, then remembered Heinrich laughing at her when she defended homosexuality. Her anger shifted to him. How dare he laugh at her convictions? And soon he’d be on his way to Berlin with the book and she’d be stuck in 1937! Damn, damn, damn! Stranded among the happy Expo visitors, she felt desperately lost.
Chasing Sylvia Beach Page 21