H. Adler - The Wall

Occasionally, he liked to tell me about his personal friends, but he never introduced me to them. Usually he made it seem as if he had hardly any real friends but, rather, ones that weren’t very attractive or, indeed, were repulsive acquaintances with whom he associated only because of his position, though for the most part he didn’t deem it proper to put me in contact with them. I wasn’t at all sure whether So-and-So was in demand as a socialite, or if he was the one pressing himself on others, though I often heard that he was plenty on the go with others, whereas with me he made it seem as if he was lonelier in this country even than I was. I knew for a fact that Karin, who was lovely and charming in social situations, had many acquaintances and understood people wonderfully, and helped not only her husband but also herself, because more than a year ago she had given up her job as a dental technician, despite Inge’s ill-intentioned or outright refusal of support, and had since dedicated herself to sculpture and, along with it, in order to earn money, her work as an illustrator, which would have been impossible without good contacts.

So-and-So tried always to keep this a secret — as well as his social climbing and the increased expenses he and his wife could afford — but he couldn’t entirely hide it from me. It was obvious and, therefore, also clear that he kept Karin away from Johanna and me. I had hardly seen her more than four times, for during my rare visits to So-and-So’s old apartment, since I didn’t yet know the new one, Karin appeared only once. Then she showed up at our wedding in a much too expensive outfit, next to which Johanna’s simple lovely dress looked meager. Once we had moved to West Park Row, Karin visited with her husband, but only for a brief hour. I didn’t think it out of the realm of possibility that the only reason she did come was to see the wedding pictures in which she appeared, because she asked me beseechingly to ask Otto to make copies of them for her as well. Nonetheless, Johanna thought Karin was nice, and she seemed friendly to me, and was not at all standoffish but visibly at ease with us, though I never thought she would ever be any closer to us than that. She never asked Johanna over, as she’d promised, while So-and-So probably never passed on our invitations to her. We were never invited together to the Kauders’ but, rather, I always went alone, though Karin was never at home when I was there.

Once, I couldn’t help making note of this and wouldn’t let it rest. After So-and-So couldn’t avoid explaining the reasons for the friendship’s not having developed any further, I was told that in this country it was not unusual for men and women to move in different social circles. Karin was shy about this and wished to wean herself from the behavior of those from the Old Country, so, as someone just arrived from there, I should not be at all surprised that it was not easy for her to be around me. But soon after that I bumped into Karin on the street, and she was the picture of friendliness. Therefore I didn’t believe a word So-and-So said. I confronted him about it and was met with evasion. First, Karin was a lady through and through, and second, she held nothing but the greatest respect for me, but the situation was indeed as he had described it to me already. Given this, there was no point in carrying it any further, and so I gave up, for I would have been met with nothing but icy silence.

Thus he succeeded in denying me whenever a personal or professional opportunity sprang up, while he nonetheless tossed me little favors, such as references for my research or helping me to obtain books, in order to try to turn me away from him without my getting upset. It was no longer a friendship at all, as we talked only about incidental matters. What indeed meant something to us, we said nothing about, just as So-and-So had done in the very first days after my arrival, during which I learned the difficult art of keeping quiet, having become smarter about it after making many mistakes. Now I asked him about neither Karin nor Oswald, whom he hardly ever mentioned, nor did I inquire about his work when he didn’t talk about it himself, and even more carefully avoided any reference to what I was doing. If I overstepped my bounds in the least, then he pulled himself up as if stricken and looked at me, furious. Why he never stopped visiting me altogether was unclear to me. Perhaps he was moved to do so for similar reasons as Otto, despite the differences in their character and nature.

I could neither renew myself nor feel secure through contact with old or new friends without them feeding upon me, even if they did not intend to. My situation was iffy and also remained so, but the uncertainty of my standing was first made evident through my friends, because they found me ridiculous and did not appreciate the potential within me. That which was questionable about me became all the more questionable. That which was barely contained within itself they tore apart, dissolving it into nothingness until it was unrecognizable, and, fool that I was, for a long time I could not let myself draw near to people, or, better yet, let them draw close to me, without the last wisp of security having been wrested from me and my existence destroyed. However, it was, in fact, this uncertainty that I couldn’t come to terms with, and which overexerted my willpower and led to a transformation in my condition. Before the collapse of most of my failed relations, my brief contact with the churlish Konirsch-Lenz finally revealed my outer ambitions in the face of his insanity, and I decided from then on to avoid anything that could possibly cause a person to undermine his own sense of self-worth.

It would have been easier if I had resigned myself to this much earlier, but for too long I lacked the courage, as well as the intelligence, to do so. I had been too enamored of myself — and that is wrong, as long as your inclination is to zealously seek your sense of self-worth among people you either love too little or not at all. That I came to this bit of wisdom by forfeiting my own existence! He who perseveres night and day, who lives and goes on in this way, feels the general misery of every born person infinitely heightened if he — if I — feels within himself the loss of his essence. I had hoped for too much, wanted too much that was not possible. But in my situation there was only one option: to continue on and wait for a moment of grace. Eagerness, vanity, concern for Johanna, worries about money had for so long kept me on the wrong path; I was in a panic, of which only the horribleness of a Konirsh-Lenz was able to cure me. Nonetheless, it was clear that if I let myself be consumed by fear our meager means would soon be entirely exhausted. I saw my wife and children starving, while I stood by without acknowledging or doing anything about it. Something had to happen. Not that I had to submit to the will of my foolish or heartless or two-faced advisers and supposed benefactors — no, not at all. But, still, something had to happen. I had too little faith in my unconquerable powerlessness to feel that I could handle it skillfully. Thus I was three or four steps behind the eight ball, all of which meant that the attainment of a middle-class life was unlikely. That first year was a time full of hopelessness in which, at first, something had been promised, but after that came the time in which I had to realize that a victory amid the storm was forbidden me, after which I struggled to find the right situation for my intellectual pursuits at any price and to get past all impediments.

I whistled louder and now walked much more slowly. Before me was a little park in which I saw a red telephone booth and stopped. With disgust, I thought of the charlatans who were the cause of my forlorn wanderings, and whom I should call up in order to report the miserable fruits they had brought me. Eberhard S. was probably the most pitiful of all those I had dealt with. A tall fat man with the pale face of a child and a monocle on a little black tether. Eberhard S. now and then gave somewhat public lectures, Otto once having persuaded me to go along with him to hear this man whom he did not know personally but who fascinated him. Eberhard S. spoke on the theme of “The Sorrows and Pleasures of Loneliness,” and I got myself involved in the discussion that followed. The lecturer spoke to me afterward, praising my comments, asking for my telephone number, calling two days later, visiting us, and inviting me to call on him. He presented himself as a doctor twice over, the fool presuming to be a medical doctor and a sociologist. He was perhaps a medical doctor, though a terrible one who performed his quackery with questionable cures and surrounded himself with a great hubbub, though he was certainly no sociologist. My first impression of the windbag was indeed bad, nor was Johanna impressed with him, but with a great deal of flattery and promises he lured me into his plan for a psychological-sociological journal, such that I accepted his offer despite all that my previous misadventures should have told me. I was supposed to be the general editor, at first with no salary but with all my expenses covered, but as soon as the journal was launched, which could only be a question of months, I would then be well paid. Eberhard S., who had chosen the name Eusemia as a “good sign” for his venture, was the publisher and editor, and wanted a propagator, author, and, especially, a recruiter to bring on talented colleagues. He sent me to printers, to news agents, bookstores, advertising agencies, and to many personalities in order to do something for Eusemia , during which I met with nothing but hassle and only rarely got anything worthwhile accomplished. Despite all this, by hook and by crook some issues of the ill-fated journal actually appeared in fitful starts. I could be pleased that only his name was at all involved, while my contributions remained unsigned or carried a pseudonym.