Peter Handke - Kaspar and Other Plays

LX

While the lights in the auditorium are slowly dimmed in a theatrical manner, the open stage is only moderately lighted. The objects are in exactly the same position as before the intermission. The closet is open. Two Kaspars are sitting on the sofa, close together. They are silent. The masks now evince an expression of contentment. After a few moments of silence, the prompters begin to recite all over the room:

LXI

While giving a beating

one is

never as calm as while beating a rug.

Water dripping regularly

down on one’s head

is no reason

to complain about a lack of order

a sip of acid in one’s mouth

or a kick in the guts

or two sticks

in the nostrils being wriggled

about

or something on that order

only more pointed

introduced

into the ears

without much ado

to needle someone

and bring him around

with all means

at one’s command

primarily

without being fussy about the

means

is no reason

to loose any words over the lack of order:

for

in the process

of putting-into-order

for better or worse

one makes others sing

whereas one—

once everything has been brought

to order

and everything that still laughed

is laughable—

can sing oneself

and after giving a beating

when fists and feet have nothing

left to

do

can beat the rug to ease one’s

mind. A third Kaspar with a small package wrapped in wrapping paper comes out of the wings and sits down next to the other two Kaspars, sits down in an orderly fashion, the package on his knees. In the process of putting-into-order

one is not as calm

and orderly

as later on

when one—

having been brought into order

oneself

by the thrashing one has given to

others—

with one’s conscience at ease

wants to

and can

enjoy

a world made orderly. A fourth Kaspar comes on stage with a similar package. Kaspar 3 makes room for him between himself and the other two Kaspars. Kaspar 4 sits down quietly. All four Kaspars are still. While giving a beating

it is sensible

not to think of the future

but in the pauses

between punches

it is blissful

to think of the time of order

so that

a too disorderly kick

won’t contribute

during the recommencement of the

beating

to channel the thoughts

of the socially sick

when he has adjusted

later on

in the wrong direction. A fifth Kaspar enters with a similar but perhaps larger package. Kaspar 3 gets up. Kaspar 5 takes Kaspar 3’s place. Kaspar 3 squeezes himself into the small space left next to Kaspar 4. Kaspar 5 puts the package in front of him on the floor. All five are still. But if

during the beating

an inordinate beating of the heart

fails to occur

and the fists

beat

the breath out of the victim’s

lungs

only (to use the same image again)

like dust

out of a rug

and one only

straightens out (to use the same image again)

the wretch’s tongue

like fringes on a rug

only then does

the injustice occur:

for

while giving a beating

one should not be as calm

as when beating a rug

while plugging up the mouth

one must be uneasy:

so as not to become uneasy

afterwards:

the failure of an inordinate

beating

of the beater’s heart while

he is giving a beating

is bad:

for

anyone whose hand has trembled

suitably

while giving a beating

has a clean slate

and is one more person

who will have to have no qualms

later on:

thus calm reigns on earth. The original Kaspar comes on stage as he did at first, but without having to look for the slit in the curtain. His movements are self-assured and he looks like the other Kaspars. His mask too should show a contented expression. He walks with firm steps to the front of the stage, as though to take a bow, nicely avoiding all objects. He stops in front of the microphone. All six Kaspars are still. Those who have been brought to order—

instead of withdrawing into themselves

and fleeing society—

should now realistically seek

without force or beatings

but out of their own strength

to show new ways

by looking for sentences

valid for all:

they cannot choose

they must choose

and tell the others

the truth about themselves

without phrases

or bubbles:

the others too

should finally be able to want to do

what they themselves

now want and should do.

LXII

Kaspar, at the microphone, begins to speak. His voice begins to resemble the voices of the prompters.

Already long

in the world

I realized nothing

I wondered

about the self-evident

and found everything finite

and infinite

laughable every object filled me with fear

the whole world galled me

neither did I want to be myself

nor somebody else

my own hand

was unknown to me

my own legs

walked of their own accord

I slept

deeply

with open

eyes:

I was without consciousness

like someone drunk

and though I was supposed to be

I wanted not to be

of use

to anything

each sight

produced dislike

each sound

deceiv-

ed me

about itself

each new step

produced

nausea and sucking

in my chest

I could not keep up

I blocked my view

myself

no light

lit up for me

with the whole mishmash

of sentences

it never occurred to me

that it was I who was meant

I noticed nothing of what

was happening around me

before I began

to come onto the world. He is quiet for a moment or more. The other Kaspars behind him are also rather still. I felt

the cacophony

the screaming

outside

was a roaring

and gurgling

in my guts:

I had to suffer,

could not distinguish

among anything:

three was not more

than two

and when I sunned myself

it rained

while I

when I was sweating

in the sun

or heating myself

running

fought my sweat with an umbrella

I could keep nothing apart

neither hot from cold

nor black from white

neither yesterday from today

nor the new from the old

neither people from things

neither prayer from cursing

neither caressing from kicking

every room

looked flat

to me

and hardly

was I awake

when the flat objects fell all over me

like a dream image:

they became obstacles

all the unknown objects

interrogated me

at once

all indistinguishables confused

my hands

and made me wild

so that I became

lost

among the objects

lost my way and

to find my way out

destroyed them. He is quiet for a few moments. The Kaspars behind him are quiet too. I came into the world

not by the clock

but because

the pain

while falling

helped me drive

a wedge

between me

and the objects

and finally extirpate

my babbling:

thus the hurt finally drove

the confusion out of me. I learned to fill

all empty spaces with words

and learned who was who

and to pacify everything that

screamed

with sentences

no empty pot confuses my brain box

any more

everything is at my will

never

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