Nicholas Mosley - Hopeful Monsters

You said That is a good story.' Then — 'Yes, it should be true.'

I said 'It is not all that far from what I imagined in Spain.'

Donald Hodge said 'The day after Christmas, Otto Frisch travelled to Copenhagen to see Niels Bohr. And Niels Bohr said "But what fools we have been, not to have seen this before!"'

I said 'Oh but how would it have been proper for us to have seen it before!'

You said 'How long will it take?'

Donald said 'It will take time to handle, if indeed it can be handled at all — time, and a great deal of money, and work, and imagination.'

I said 'Then that's all right.'

Donald said 'What is?'

I said 'I think imagination is on our side.'

Donald said 'And, with luck, money.'

You said 'But time?'

It was not long after this that Hitler marched into what was left of Czechoslovakia; then began to make threatening noises against Poland. I thought — It is obvious what is in runaway: what else but a coincidence like this might be imagined to be in control!

I said 'We always knew that there was something urgent to be done.'

You said 'I don't think this makes it easier to separate from each other.'

In the summer, you set off for Zurich: to find what news you could about your father; to try to make contact with Franz, to find out what was happening in Germany about a Bomb; perhaps to pursue the course of study that you had embarked on years ago — the one concerning the connections between coincidence, the workings of the imagination, and fact.

I said 'You will be careful.'

You said 'And write to me every day.'

I said 'Meet you on top of the gasworks, twenty minutes.'

Ascona this year is on The Symbolism of Rebirth in the Religions of All Times and Places'.

These metaphors! They remind us that language is no more than a shot at reality.

— In reality, am I in touch with you?

I have been told of an experiment in which you take a mother and a child cat, separate them, then if you kill the child cat, for instance in Australia, the mother cat, in Europe, attached to suitable recording instruments, will show signs of instantaneous distress.

I am sad. I am lonely.

You are happy?

I sit on a jetty and look out across the lake. I imagine rising up out of the water a hand with a sword with a message on it -

— You call this reality?

There is no more news from my cousins about my father. He was in Sachsenhausen concentration camp in 1936; he remained there till probably early this year; then he was let out. He is now said to be working for the government.

Why did the Nazis let him out? Does he know what he is doing? Does he expect me to know?

Might we not both be in danger if I, his errant daughter, try to make contact with him?

Practising. Testing.

In the years before 1936 he had become known for his outspokenness in defence of Jews: it was for this, presumably, that he was arrested. He was also becoming known for his work on the philosophical and even political implications of modern science. For this (as well as for the other accomplishment) he had gained the respect of many different kinds of scientists. So the government might well have thought that he could be useful to them in the runup to war; and his wife, my mother, a Jewess, was now dead.

There might be good or bad reasons for his not getting in touch with me. There might be good or bad reasons for my not having got in touch with him. He might be ashamed: or he might be something more rare on this strange planet

He might have some design. He might know that I would know what he is doing. To take responsibility on oneself — to expect others to take responsibility on themselves — this is to go against the dependence on others that is taken to be social responsibility on this sad planet.

So what are the techniques — if we do not accept that the human race should destroy itself?

Practising.

The seminars we have been engaged in this last term have been to do with how one might, as an individual, get in touch with some operational level of this so-called 'reality'. There are Eastern techniques for this; but these are apt to encourage a mystical turning away from the world rather than a dealing with it. There are Christian techniques; but with these one puts oneself into the hands of a religious authority, and why should such hands be any more to do with reality than one's own? Jung and his coven of witches here advocate what they call 'active imagination' — you let consciousness go, and then messages come in from an unconscious that is said to be universal. But why should such a game between consciousness and unconsciousness be to do with reality? It seems to me that anything called 'reality' would have to be a to and fro between oneself and the outside world — at least between oneself and that which has the appearance of an outside world. I mean, if you let the barriers that form the defence of your personality go, then the messages that pop up will be in the form of actual events, juxtapositions, recognitions.

I am trying to write my thesis about this. When I am not sitting at the end of this jetty and trying to imagine what you are doing, I am by the window in my room which has a view over the jetty where I have been sitting. You have said — It is necessary to have a way of looking down on oneself. I can say from here — Why, there I was at the end of the jetty! How interesting that I am lonely and sometimes frightened!

Do you think this is possible?

Seeing a pattern is on a different level from what is frightened or frightening? Testing.

I am wondering if I can bring into my thesis something about our experiences in Spain: I was here; you were there: what can one say about connections? An appreciation of these would be aesthetic. The state of mind required, looking back, was not to plan, not to try to sort out: but to listen, and carry on, and discover.

Should I go myself into Germany now? There is not much time if there is to be war.

I have tried to get in touch with Franz. I have tried to get in touch with Walburga. Walburga, as you know, is a friend of Franz. They

are both away. I have not thought it proper to try to get in touch directly with my father.

We know there are patterns because there is our experience of what is aesthetic. But knowing this involves us in more than knowing that the patterns are there. What do we do, as part of a pattern?

What should I do now? In the humdrum world, what is moral?

The one thing that I have not done which I have thought I should do (looking down on myself) is to try to get in touch with Stefan or even Rudi (you remember Stefan and Rudi? the people with whom I went across the Sahara). Stefan is a Swiss: I know his home is somewhere near Zurich. Rudi came from southern Germany. I have not wanted to get in touch with them because after the dramas in North Africa I did not think that they would want to see me; nor did I want to see them. Also I thought that there might still be some trouble for us all with the authorities. Up to now I have felt myself protected by my new passport.

But — morally, should I not get in touch with Stefan or Rudi? To find out how they are? Also I have something of their property.

But what would this have to do with any pattern we have imagined?

Testing. Testing.

With anything aesthetic or moral, however, one knows not what will emerge: only the means; not even the connections.

So I will go out now and see what might be done.

See you behind the gasworks, forty minutes?

Bodensee August 30th 1939 My Angel,

I went to the polytechnic, but they had no news of Stefan or Rudi: they had an address, however, for Stefan on the shores of the Bodensee. So I have come here. I have found where Stefan lives, and have left a message for him to meet me. I don't know why I am doing this. It is true that I owe something to him and Rudi.