H. Adler - Panorama

Some guests try to comment on the reading, Johannes listening silently to most of them, now and then nodding lightly in agreement or disagreement. Once he says that it’s good to discuss such matters, but one should also just listen, it’s the truth that speaks and not the person, it being the beauty of truth that it doesn’t say anything, one can’t interfere with it, or search for God, but only search within himself for the God that is there. Yolanda then tries to elaborate, saying, “If you search for the truth as part of your day’s work, that is good. As a housewife I can’t afford to neglect my duties. The saying is true: first God, then others. But if you want to genuinely serve God, then you must serve others, and the work of a housewife does just that by managing the household. Then I think of that part of God’s will that wanted me to be a housewife. That is the wonder that keeps me going. It makes me happy and gives me hope when my dear husband and my Schorschl are happy.” Both nod to her and say as one, “Through Mother we are able to concentrate all the better.” The opaque, smiling Johannes appears to agree, but then Haschke lets out, “Through Meister Eckhart one sees precisely how wonderful it all is! We humans are always lost in a duality, for we cannot concentrate well enough and listen too much to people who end up confusing us. Because it simply is, one should not search for Being, which is hard, for at the same time one does want to search for Being. But one should just act in the knowledge that the truth is inside us, and thus God as well, for God speaks to those who can speak the truth. Oh, it’s wonderful, Johannes! How wondrous it is, just as your reading describes!” Johannes only replies that one should be careful not to just turn himself into a wonder as well.

Frieda and Greta arrive with the tea, Yolanda and two other women jumping up to help them, plates with store-bought baked goods handed out, it being meager fare, sweet and salty, as Yolanda says, “Goodness, I have a cake in my bag outside that I baked for you all! Schorschl, be so good as to bring me my bag!” Schorschl runs out, the tea is poured, and each person is asked how many sugars he would like, followed by slices of lemon, which are handed out in little bowls, and raspberry juice in dark-red bottles, which almost looks like schnapps, some taking lemon, though more dribble some of the rich raspberry juice into their tea, others taking some of each, Schorschl appearing again and calling out, “Mama, I’m really sorry, but I can’t find either the cake or the bag. I looked everywhere, your coat is in the kitchen, and I found your hat on the floor in the foyer. Someone must have stepped on it, because it was smushed. I straightened it out right away, but one of the berries on it is cracked and can’t be fixed. I cleaned off the hat, but the bag is nowhere to be found.” Frieda asks if Yolanda remembers where she put the bag, or if perhaps she left it at home, but Yolanda’s husband knows better, saying, “No, no, my precious, you certainly didn’t leave it at home. I took some paper out of the drawer and helped you pack it. We wrapped the cake twice so that it wouldn’t leak any butter. Schorschl, do you remember whether Mama had the bag on the electrical?”—“Papa, I’m not sure. But I think Mama had it with her.” Frieda asks, “Do you think, Yolanda, that you left the bag lying somewhere?” Greta declares, “No, I know she brought the bag here. I remember that Yolanda had this beautiful big bag with her, and I even asked, ‘What’s in the bag, Yolanda?’And Yolanda said, ‘It’s a cake, Greta. It’s a new recipe I tried, which my family thought tasted really good. I also made one for you all at the same time.’ Don’t you remember, Yolanda? I then asked you about the recipe, and you said you’d give it to me, but first I had to try the cake and guess what was in it.” Yolanda recalls, “You’re right, Greta, I did promise you the recipe.” Spiridion declaims, “Yolanda, it’s a victim of God’s mysterious ways. The cake has disappeared into the cosmos. Accept the sacrifice selflessly!” Yolanda replies, “I’m happy to make a sacrifice. But that’s ridiculous. I made the cake for you all. And I’m pained about the bag, for Schorschl gave it to me for Christmas.” Schorschl says, “Don’t worry about the bag, Mama. I’ll get you another one. But the cake, the one you made for everyone, you were so pleased with it!” Frieda appeases her, saying, “We know that the good Yolanda always wants to surprise us. But it’s the thought that counts!” August adds, “My dear Yolanda, you all know her well! How well she takes care of Schorschl and me, always putting the family first and loving us with God’s love. Yolanda put a great deal of fresh butter into that cake which she got from her sister-in-law from the village by Wlaschim. However, one must take it all in stride, whatever happens is to the good.” Haschke recommends, “Yolanda, make a good example of yourself and concentrate until you think of where the bag is!” Yolanda responds, “I’m trying already. But as long as you all keep talking I can’t help being confused. The next time I bake a cake I won’t let it out of my hands.” Johannes has listened to it all with a smile and says, “We thank you, Yolanda, but we have enough to eat already. The bag will turn up, it most likely is out among the coats.” Then Thomas says emphatically, “We should all search at once, that’s the best thing to do!” Most everyone then begins to look around, but at this Yolanda claps her hands together and yells, “I think I know! I washed my hands in the bathroom!” She runs out, the bag is found in the bathroom, everyone gathers round as Yolanda gleefully swings the bag back and forth.

Spiridion praises her, saying, “That’s a lovely bag, Yolanda. It’s made of calf leather.” But then Herr Herold, who until now has not said a word but only sat there with an earnest face, stands up, feels the bag, and declares, “That’s a fine bag, it’s premium goods, but Spiridion, it doesn’t look like calf leather. That’s cow leather. If you come with me, I’d like to show you some calf leather, in order that you can note the difference.” Spiridion laughs, saying, “My dear friend, you very well may be right. But I am also right. What is a calf? It’s a young cow. The calf grows up and becomes a powerful animal, like the sacred cows of Egypt or India. We should bow before the bag, for it is made of calf leather. And Yolanda’s cake is also sacred, since it was in a sacred vessel. But everything is sacred, for it is man who thinks it so.” Haschke agrees, exclaiming, “Oh, Spiridion, what heavenly words you have spoken! Everything is sacred — the cake, the bag. It only needs us to call it sacred!” Master Ringel warns, “We shouldn’t commit idolatry.” Greta asks, “What do you mean?” Ringel explains, “If I paint a picture, a higher power, as it were, works through me. But when I go about my daily affairs I am more reserved, in order not to turn everyday things into idols. Whoever does that commits idolatry.” Spiridion is of another view and says, “Master Ringel, that’s not right. The everyday is indeed august. One only needs the right perspective, and that is the cosmic perspective. We all honor your paintings, but you yourself should know that it is easy to depict the divine in that which is not in fact divine. The everyday must be made divine through it in order to elevate it and make it worthy of God. That’s my charge as a poet, as I have often explained here. Isn’t that true, Johannes, have I not?” Johannes says nothing and smiles, then Spiridion continues, “I don’t want the tea to get cold on us. Johannes, have some already, then we’ll argue some more. Let us eat and drink so that we can offer our tribute to the ephemeral! Afterward you will all hear what happened on the electrical, how I gave voice to my conception, and about the streetcar with its motor, its electrical current, the conductor selling tickets, the driver, and the passengers.”