H. Adler - Panorama

When Josef sees Dr. Brendel, he will certainly agree with Frau Director that he is a fabulous person and not just a doctor, she always says that he acts out of the purest love for others, the Director against him only because he worked for ten years as an assistant in a mental institution, though Dr. Brendel had done that only for noble-minded reasons. The mental ailments today are by far the most dangerous ailments, the source of them has to be discovered, observed, and treated, in most cases there being something that can be done, while in most families one can see that the onset of some form of dementia is everywhere, sometimes taking the form of megalomania, sometimes a persecution complex or some other type of mania, sometimes one being lucky enough to suffer only from hysteria or a neurosis, a word by the way that has a wonderful tie to “sublime” because of a similar poetic effect, though it can all be healed through goodwill and patience. Frau Director considers it a blessing that in this house a modern and informal spirit rules, she continually makes sure that everything develops naturally, much like the transformation of a cocoon into a butterfly or the ugly duckling into a beautiful frog, no, I mean swan. She has many ideas about pedagogy that Robert especially will benefit from, since she can capitalize on her experience with Irwin and Lutz, for when Irwin was as old as Lutz is now she had hardly any awareness of pedagogy or psychology as she does now, but since then she had learned a great deal and continued to learn, each day increasing her knowledge. During all this the ape has gotten more and more red in the face, and can no longer contain himself, pressing a hand to his mouth, but then blurting out that he doesn’t wish to say anything against Mother, she certainly has had outstanding success in raising the boys, which one can only envy, but fifty years ago people also knew how to raise children, back then a good spanking and that was it, while what is thought and done today is no advancement. Frau Director wrings her hands as she listens to this antiquated talk, wondering what it has to do with an evolved Western perspective, those are nothing but medieval methods, and those are medieval ideas, one can see what spanking has led to, there being no free people, but rather nothing but numerous enslaved souls, thieves, ruffians, murderers, as well as the many hellish thugs and sex criminals, while in a more ignorant time or with a less reasonable mother Irwin would by now already have come home with a venereal disease, though here that has been prevented from happening, spanking children on the behind also leading to the dangers of anal eroticism, as one day’s spanking is the next day’s sadism.

The Director is beet-red, beads of sweat springing up on his ape nose, his veins swelling up blue, as he yells that he has had enough of this nonsense, if his wife wants to feed on the slop she finds in her books and courses, then she’ll have to do it in the Devil’s name, but he forbids that his boys be further corrupted with these methods. This “pissiatrist” Dr. Brendel is no longer allowed in this house, otherwise there will be consequences, the Director slapping the table with the flat of his hand the entire time, then he jumps up and wants to leave and slam the door behind him, though at the last minute he composes himself and turns in the door, puts on a sugary-sweet smile and says almost tenderly, “Good night, Mother!” Then the ape quietly closes the door behind him, his wife quickly recovers from her shock and says next with satisfaction, “Just look, Josef, that will serve as evidence how right I am in my principles. From this you can hardly imagine what a lovely man he is, an angel, as I always say. But everything brings him worry and an unreasonable way of life, which traps him in this cycle.” Josef has to continue to listen to such talk until at last he is able to go. He confesses how tired he is, it all being a lot to take in, and he needs to mull it over on his own, so he’d like to now go up to his room. “Good night, Josef, I’m quite pleased with you. You have a lovely kind of seriousness, though unfortunately you also seem to have bad nerves. But just wait, as soon as Dr. Brendel appears I will speak to him about you. Perhaps you are just animalistic, I mean anemic. Well then, good night, Josef, good night!” Anton leads Josef up the stairs and shows him his room, in which his suitcase already stands. Anton then departs quickly with a slight nod of the head, during which he gives a condescending and sardonic smile.

Finally Josef is alone. The room is larger and nicer than he had expected, but the air is heavy and stale. Josef goes to the window, before which there is a step that he climbs to open the window, outside of which is the garden, the night air not cold but full of a soft ringing, a light rain falling, Josef turning from the window and suddenly feeling happy without knowing why. The furniture is quite dapper, the entire accommodations quite comfy, it all looking similar to the boys’ living room, yet simpler, and therefore more appealing to Josef, only the two unframed paintings on the wall being not to his taste, for they look like mirrors, which he never likes, he only realizing up close that they are blank aluminum plates in the middle of which appear bright flecks and dabs of oil paint. Josef thinks to himself that this must indeed be the kind of art that Professor Bäumel admires, abstract and empty of life, though to Josef they seem disguised nonsense, form without mass and figure, he wanting to remove the paintings, they bother him, but they are firmly attached to the wall, so he takes a cloth from the table and covers them up.

Josef is depressed, feeling that tomorrow he should leave this house for good, he feeling dazed, not knowing how anyone could take Frau Director seriously and wondering how a professor at the university not only could have recommended that he work as a tutor for a year but he had specifically recommended this position, congratulating Josef when he got it. The Director is of course a businessman above all else, even somewhat genial, but she is an unusually charming and intellectual lady, perhaps a bit high-strung, though that’s not so surprising amid so much culture, impressive intellectual interests, and a surprisingly well-rounded education. Josef would have imagined things to be much different in this house, and he is ashamed that he didn’t handle himself better, for he shouldn’t have remained silent about a number of things, he being cowardly or not brave enough, but he had to keep silent, for it was in the interest of the children and he has to act on their behalf, or at least for Lutz, for isn’t he adorable? No, Josef can’t just run off, he has a job to do, and he can’t give up hope just because things fell apart earlier, for perhaps the wife is better than she appears, and the professor was right about her being a bit high-strung, if not in fact way too high-strung. But can any good come of it? No matter his doubts, Lutz needs his help, and it’s touching how such a mistreated child talks about animals and plants, while Irwin had not yet made any such endearing impression on Josef, he being the ice-cold son of a cool, if not weak, father.

Everything in this house is marvelous, but Lutz needs to be taken away, he needs to be saved from it and yanked away from his parents. When the boy raves about a microscope, his eyes shine as he starts to talk, his delicate hands looking like his mother’s, though more refined, while he has nothing of his father in him, nor does Irwin, who is a very handsome boy, despite his eyes drilling into you, his gaze never faltering. Lutz meanwhile sits completely still, his breathing inaudible, his microscope in front of him, he having adjusted the viewer, one eye closed, the other peering at the object through a little round peephole, the right hand shifting the slide back and forth, the left hand turning the knob, the picture becoming more clear, then less clear, the object beautiful, the preparation a success. It’s a continual learning process, Lutz doesn’t know what’s going on around him, he not hearing how his mother talks, as she talks constantly, because she can’t stop herself, she piling up strong words, though in a faulty Latin, her marriage a happy one, the psychiatrist standing nearby, he admiring her soul and captivated by it. The spirit no longer has any connection with any object. It is all a quick view that is continually swept away, the object unattainable, no amount of enthusiasm doing any good, the hand turning and turning, the image never sharp.