Kraft
Page 20
You will have your candy, my little mouse
In a hundred years it will all be gone.
—GERMAN NURSERY RHYME
Now, finally, Kraft knows what he has to do. It doesn’t come in a flash, but rather as his recognizing a possibility that has accompanied him for a long time, perhaps his entire life. On this sleepless night, in the burning shame that fills him from head to toe at the thought of Johanna, of Heike, of the unspeakable PowerPoint presentation that, he fears, will win him points with Erkner and send him home with a million dollars, this possibility has ripened into a certainty and needs only to be put into action. A fox is no hedgehog and is no porcupine either.
Kraft sits at the desk in the dark, opens his laptop, and begins systematically erasing all traces of the work he’s done over the past few days. He empties his backpack of everything except his notes. Then he puts on his lightweight suit, polishes the tips of his shoes with a sock, and slips his new smartphone into his pocket. He carries his shoes in his hand, shoulders his backpack, and creeps through the sleeping house and down the stairs. Ivan’s keys are in a glass bowl in the foyer. Kraft grabs them and crosses the kitchen to the garage. He finds what he’s looking for in moments. He had noticed the rope on the shelf a few days earlier and for a long time now, Kraft has been making mental notes of every rope he sees lying about.
He sits on the steps in front of the house and puts on his shoes. He throws his notes in the paper-recycling bin in the driveway across the street. The streets are empty and the heels of his Budapesters echo loudly through the mild night. Kraft walks quickly. A light still burns in a laboratory building. He passes a jogging student who nods at him breathlessly.
The tower of books rises crudely into the night sky. Lights shine on the four corners of the observation deck. He opens the door with Ivan’s key. An EMERGENCY EXIT sign weakly illuminates the lobby of the Hoover Institution on War, Revolution, and Peace. The elevator is out of order, so he takes the stairs. He gropes his way in the dark until he remembers he can use the flashlight on his phone. Kraft pushes open the door to the observation deck. He briefly stands in one of the grilled niches. The lights of Silicon Valley twinkle at his feet. In the distance, San Francisco disappears into the fog. Then he turns toward the carillon. The small glass cubicle with the keyboard and above it the bells amid the dark roof beams. He climbs arduously onto the glass cubicle. The panes give his leather soles no purchase, he has to take off his socks and shoes. A grille blocks his way to the bells but he manages to bend it without making too much noise. Then he puts his socks and shoes back on, polishing the tips once more with the ball of his hand. From there, he easily climbs higher onto the beams. He takes the rope from his backpack. A faint smell of mortadella reaches his nose, but that doesn’t stop him. Kraft knows how to tie a proper knot. He carefully tests the length and ties the other end onto the clapper of the largest bell. He opens the Famethrower app that one of the engineers installed for him. He connects it to a livestream app and starts broadcasting. He props the telephone at the right height on a beam. Kraft puts the noose around his neck and checks the screen. No one is watching. He waits. A user in Bogotá connects.
—Hola, qué pasa!
No Famestars. But no Wrinkles either. Kraft waits. Bogotá soon disconnects. Kraft tests the knot and waits. Then he has a viewer from Turkey and soon one from Finland. Then Greg from Winnipeg connects as well. Greg is concerned.
—Hey dude, don’t do whatever you plan to do! Where are you? Should I call somebody? Dude … she is not worth it!!!!
Finland disconnects. Kraft waits. He’s no Justin Bieber, Kraft knows that. But there should be at least five or six. Greg insists:
—Don’t do it, man!!! I promise, whatever it is, it will be all right.
Kraft lets himself fall into the void. His neck breaks with the reliable sound Bakelite hair clippers make when they’re turned on. The bell begins to swing. The clapper hits. Kraft no longer hears it. For Peace Alone Do I Ring.
acknowledgments
The ETH Zürich Foundation made it possible for me to spend three years working on a dissertation in philosophy. Unfortunately, nothing came of that dissertation, though some of the material I reflected on in my academic work has found its way into the novel at hand. I would like to thank Michael Hampe and my former colleagues in the Chair for Philosophy for the stimulating environment.
The Swiss National Foundation granted me a nine-month stipend to conduct research at Stanford University, where I wrote the first sketches of Kraft. Sepp Gumbrecht was a wonderful host at the Department of Comparative Literature and I am grateful for my many discussions with him and others, in particular Adrian Daub, who has thought deeply about the culture of Silicon Valley, and Amir Eshel, in whose seminars we wrestled with Job and the theodicy.
I must apologize to the aforementioned for abandoning my dissertation. I am holding out the faint hope that for one or another of them this novel will offer some compensation.
By presenting me with a sabbatical year, the city of Zürich eased my decision to dedicate myself completely to writing.
* * *
Odo Marquand’s essays were pivotal when I began my engagement with theodicy. Marion Hellwig’s study Alles ist gut (“Everything Is Right”; Würzburg, 2008) was a great help during the writing of this book. Along with the classic works, Hans Poser’s essay “Von der Theodizee zur Technodizee: Ein altes Problem in neuer Gestalt” (“From Theodicy to Technodicy: An Old Problem in a New Guise”; Hannover, 2011) and Joseph Vogl’s Das Gespenst des Kapitals (“The Specter of Capitalism”; Zürich, 2010/11) were particularly important.
I would like to thank Ulrike Arnold and Stefan Willer for their careful readings of the manuscript and for their countless comments. I also thank my agent Karin Graf for accompanying me in this endeavor.
My thanks also extend to everyone who worked with me at Publishers C.H. Beck, especially Martin Hielscher, and to Maximilian Häusler for his assistance with my research.
And I thank my friend Michael Zichy for his constant willingness to discuss the evil in the world in all its facets.
sources
CHAPTER ONE
Ford, Paul. “The Message,” Medium, August 13, 2014, at http://medium.com/s/story/how-to-be-polite-9bf1e69e888c.
CHAPTER TWO
Thiess, Richard. Ladendiebstahl erkennen, verhindern, verfolgen: Ein Handbuch für die Praxis. Marburg: Tectum, 2011, p. 18. Excerpt translated by Tess Lewis.
CHAPTER THREE
King James Bible, Job 40:16–17.
CHAPTER FOUR
Balzac, Honoré de. Histoire des treize: La Duchesse de Langeais, 1834. Excerpt translated by Tess Lewis.
CHAPTER FIVE
Voltaire. Candide, ou l’optimisme, 1759. Excerpt translated by Tess Lewis.
CHAPTER SIX
Flach, Karl-Hermann, Werner Maihofer, and Walter Scheel. Die Freiburger Thesen der Liberalen. Rheinbeck: Rowohlt, 1972, p. 61. Excerpt translated by Tess Lewis.
CHAPTER SEVEN
From The Martian, 2015. Twentieth Century Fox. Written by Drew Goddard.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hamm-Brücher, Hildegard. Untersuchungen an den Hefemutterlaugen der technischen Ergosterin-Gewinning. Dissertation at the University of Munich, 1945, p. 94. Excerpt translated by Tess Lewis.
CHAPTER NINE
Lichtenberg, Georg Christoph. Sudelbücher J 166. Excerpt translated by Tess Lewis.
CHAPTER TEN
Ford Sakaguchi. Riding History: Sketches on Shifting Presences and Converging Horizons. Lands End: Huntington University Press, 1992, p. 69.
Cowtan, Gary. Lyrics to “Looking for Freedom.” Originally sung by Marc Seaburg, as produced by Jack White. David Hasselhoff’s recording of the song dates from 1989.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Marquard, Odo. Individuum und Gewaltenteilung: Philosophische Studien. Ditzingen: Reclam, 2004, p. 126. Excerpt translated by Tess Lewis.
CHAPTER TWELVE
S
chelling, Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph von. Quoted in Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, Begegnungen und Gespräche: 1800–1805, Renate and Ernst Grumach, eds. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1985, p. 142. Excerpt translated by Tess Lewis.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Metastasio, Pietro. Didone abbandonata, 1794. Act I, Scene 13.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hoover, Herbert. Quoted in Leuchtenburg, William E., Herbert Hoover. The American Presidents Series: The 31st President, 1929–1933. New York: Times Books, 2009, p. 17.
ALSO BY JONAS LÜSCHER
Barbarian Spring
A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jonas Lüscher was born in Switzerland in 1976, and now lives in Munich. His bestselling debut novel, Barbarian Spring, was long-listed for the German Book Prize and nominated for the Swiss Book Prize. It has been translated into sixteen languages and adapted for the stage. Kraft, his second novel, was ranked first in the February 2017 “SWR Bestenliste,” a list of the best fiction chosen by twenty-six prominent German critics, and went on to win the Swiss Book Prize in 2017. You can sign up for email updates here.
A NOTE ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Tess Lewis is a writer and translator from the French and German. Her translations include works by Peter Handke, Walter Benjamin, Klaus Merz, Hans Magnus Enzensberger, Christine Angot, Philippe Jaccottet, and Jean-Luc Benoziglio.
contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Acknowledgments
Sources
Also by Jonas Lüscher
A Note About the Author and Translator
Copyright
Farrar, Straus and Giroux
120 Broadway, New York 10271
Copyright © 2017 by Verlag C.H. Beck oHG, München
Translation copyright © 2020 by Tess Lewis
All rights reserved
Originally published in German in 2017 by Verlag C.H. Beck, Germany
English translation published in the United States by Farrar, Straus and Giroux
First American edition, 2020
E-book ISBN: 978-0-374-71819-0
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The translation of this work received support from the Swiss Arts Council Pro Helvetia.
* A play on Regen, the German word for rain: “Sun not rain/Reagan!”
* “Petting not Pershing!”—petting as in making out; Pershing as in the American-made Pershing II nuclear missiles based in Germany.