H. Adler - The Wall

“What a joke,” he said contemptuously. “That a man of your gifts is stuck in the same place as other refugees — that only says how deep the wound was that created your impossible social skills. An asocial sociologist, that’s what you are! You need to be rebuilt from the ground up if you can’t turn your life around yourself.”

I bit my upper lip and stammered, “I don’t know why you are treating me like … like a good-for-nothing. Why you are doing that … just like I was a criminal …”

“Don’t be silly! No one said that you are a criminal. But the way you go about things shatters all sympathies, and you see the result yourself. A good-for-nothing, a man with a wife and children like you — in your case, that’s no exaggeration.”

“I would have been smarter than to let myself get tangled up with you if I had known that you were going to set in motion this unkind and unproductive game. Why did you ask me to come here?”

“You’re not letting me speak. I have—”

“You promised my wife that you would leave me in peace. Again, why have you asked me here?”

“Will you listen to what I have to say?”

“I want clarity. You said to my wife that you could provide concrete help. Only because of that supposition have I come, not to have a flood of accusations wash over me.”

“Concrete help — that’s exactly what it is. I mean well and want to help you. I’m killing myself for you, and the only thanks I get is to be scolded! Who else has given you anything concrete, huh? I’m not like your so-called former friends whom you’ve told me about. What do you make of all the contacts who have done nothing but blow in your ear? And do you know why none of it gets you anywhere?”

“No.”

“I can tell you exactly why. Because you always expect something. Did Fräulein Knispel call you?”

“No.”

“There, you see? Did you write her?”

“No. You decided that I better not, for I might mess things up. You said so yourself. You wanted to arrange things yourself.”

Herr Konirsch-Lenz sat across from me in the little ugly café where there was not a quiet moment to be had and stared at me with an expression as if he had just revealed to me the deepest secret of my puzzling existence and was now waiting for the scales to fall from my eyes and for me to accede to him in all matters and turn over the rudder of my life’s miserable vessel to his control. But I only looked at him dumbfounded, hoping for a moment to gather my wits after such a stunning blow, though I soon gave up, as it seemed pointless.

“So you agree that you’re a good-for-nothing?”

I didn’t say a thing.

“Do you have nothing to say?”

“Not that I know of.”

My mouth barely whispered this.

“I believe, my good man, that you suffer from moral weakness. Your wife could suffer as a result.”

“Please, let me be.”

I wanted to leave the table, but my legs betrayed me; I couldn’t get up from the chair, and sank back down onto it. As if to hinder my flight, the manufacturer of Kolex wallpaper grabbed my arm.

“You treat me as if I’m not even worthy of shining your shoes, and all I want to do is help you. It makes one want to puke!”

“It makes one want to puke! You’ve got that right.”

“Yes! Because of you! You hopeless egomaniac! But it’s no use arguing with you; I won’t waste my time with it! Now, you listen to me! Do you remember my telling you about Self-Help and Herr Scher?”

What Kolex had explained to me about Self-Help and Scher was meaningless. I didn’t want to hear anything about it.

“Yes, I dimly remember. You told me so much that it’s all jumbled up inside my head.”

“Self-Help, my friend, Self-Help. Try to remember!”

“I don’t know anything about it!” I said, lying.

“What’s that, you no longer remember anything about Self-Help? That is indeed the organization a person in your situation must surely turn to. But I’m telling you that there’s no point in expecting any kind of actual support from Self-Help, except in very exceptional circumstances, and you don’t fall into that category. But the job placements you can secure there are golden, for they are done professionally. No need to rely on friendship, which you’ve had enough of already, and you know how far that will get you. There’s no such thing as friends — that, you’ve learned!”

“Friends and business with friends! It all buzzes away inside my head, and it’s not up to you to look after me.”

“Oh, just shut up and listen! These placements by Self-Help have already helped some get back on their feet who were on the brink of despair — really tragic cases, not just harmless and self-inflicted ones like yourself. Self-Help is terrific. It was founded for selfless reasons and has been running now for over fifteen years. It runs on its own, which is something, for there are more than twenty employees there. What am I saying, twenty? There have to be at least thirty! But Self-Help has filled thousands of fantastic positions, and often free of charge. Herr Scher, someone I know well, even a good friend of mine, perhaps plays the most important role there, for he owes me. I’ve taken people he’s recommended and placed them in my factory. I told your wife all of this — did she not tell you about it? I’m convinced that it works. Social cases. I know how to handle such matters. You shouldn’t be so stubborn! I could help you and heal you; in a year you’d be cured! Then you could help me with other cases, considering your education. My friend, don’t be such an idiot! And you want to be a sociologist. No wonder you’re interested in the oppressed. I am as well, but I look to do something about it! With you it’s nothing but your past and your sympathy for yourself. Strong people have no need to study the sociology of the oppressed; they take care of it themselves, but in a practical manner! The way you go about it is a nasty business. You have to go about it differently. You have to get cracking and do it, in concrete ways. Then you’ll have the right to get involved with the oppressed and to think about their liberation. If you were my colleague, you would soon earn yourself a nice pile of money and then later could write a sociology of the liberated man. No theory, just practice. Then I’d be impressed, and all the Kratzensteins can go take a leap, as well as the snooty Dr. Kauders and the lazy potentates from whom you’ve expected so much. All of them will be knocked flat on their asses by you.”

Konirsch-Lenz talked ever more hurriedly, his speech becoming more vulgar. He talked on and on, with me only partly listening, and even today I can hardly forgive myself for not having long gotten over it, for every word filled me with resentment. I sensed nothing but bad things for me, but I was afraid and let the wave pour over me. Sometimes I tried to break or stave off the miserable blabber, but Konirsch-Lenz cut me off right away with “Just a minute!” or “I’m talking now!” and “Listen to me!” such that I had to drink to the dregs the humiliation he intended for me.

“No, the honored sir is much too noble to begin with my wallpaper. That I know. A fussy intellectual, yes, I understand. That’s why I thought of Scher. He’d be impressed with you, but as you are now he’d think you were dreck. He’d set your head straight, though; that’s his job. He’s quite agreeable, it would surprise you, and he’s been around the block. What I say to him is as holy as a taboo. All I have to do is let him know, and he does it straight off. Perhaps he could use you as a kind of social worker. That would be right up your alley, wouldn’t it? I’m thinking as a career counselor. Could you do that? As a sociologist, certainly you’ve studied a bit of psychology, graphology, Rorschach tests, or some such methodology?”