Julia Franck - The Blind Side of the Heart

In spring the newly elected National Socialist Party organized a boycott. The idea was to leave certain parasites, useless mouths, to starve to death. No one was to buy from Jewish tradesmen, or get shoes mended by a Jewish cobbler, no one was to visit a Jewish doctor or consult a Jewish lawyer. It was wrong for Germans to be out of work while others lived on the fat of the land, the medical director of the hospital explained to the nurses. They nodded; some of them came up with special instances of this unjust state of affairs. The bubbly nurse, who as everyone knew was Jewish, had been fired suddenly last week. No one wondered where she was, no one missed her. Her family might not be prosperous, but why should she have a job when others didn’t? Once she had gone no one mentioned her any more. Another nurse replaced her. There was much talk about the living space that the German people needed.

Wilhelm fetched Helene from work. As usual, she had been on duty for ten hours, and with the two brief breaks in her shift had been at the hospital for eleven hours in all. He took her arm and led her to the café, and although it was already six in the evening Wilhelm ordered cake and coffee. He drew Helene close to him over the table and told her she must keep a secret. He wasn’t just responsible for building the 4A Berlin to Stettin road, he said, and what was more, some day, as she’d see, it would go all the way to Königsberg! Wilhelm’s eyes were shining. His voice dropped even lower. But the secret was this: he had been chosen as the engineer to take the wireless apparatus developed under his supervision to Stettin airfield and get it installed on the tall mast there, because the airfield was to be converted for use by the Luftwaffe. Wilhelm was beaming, and looked not so much proud as bold and determined. His eyes saw adventure, promised adventure. Wilhelm picked up his cake fork, broke off a piece of cake and put the fork to his mouth. His area of work had shifted so far in the direction of Pomerania, he told her, that it had been suggested he should move there.

Helene nodded. She didn’t really envy Wilhelm his ability to enjoy life and his enthusiasm, his belief that he was able to do something important for the German people, for mankind, and in particular for technical progress. But she liked his frank pleasure, the ease with which he laughed and slapped his thigh. It was pleasantly uncomplicated, like the giggling of the nurses.

Are you glad? Wilhelm asked Helene. He lowered his arm and his fork when he noticed that she was not reacting, and didn’t open her mouth to eat more of her own cake.

Please don’t ask me. Helene looked up from her cup of coffee and out of the window.

But I must ask you, said Wilhelm. I don’t want to be without you in my future life, he said, and bit his lip ruefully, because he had meant to keep such a confession for the moment when he asked a certain question. However, Helene didn’t seem to have heard him.

When Wilhelm came back from Pomerania in spring, after a good month away drawing up plans, he bought two rings from the jeweller’s at the railway station and went to fetch Helene from the hospital. He held one of the rings under her nose and asked if she would be his wife.

Helene couldn’t meet his eyes.

She wondered what to tell him. She knew how to beam and smile, that was easy, you just had to lift the corners of your mouth and widen your eyes at the same time. Perhaps, imitating happiness like that, you could even feel a moment of the real thing?

Surprised, aren’t you?

Something like me isn’t supposed to exist at all. It burst out of her.

What on earth do you mean? Wilhelm was at a loss.

I mean I don’t have any papers, any certificate of my descent, and if I did, said Helene, laughing herself now, well, the word Mosaic would come under the definition of my mother’s faith.

Wilhelm looked keenly at her. Why do you say such things, Alice? Your mother lives somewhere in Lusatia. Didn’t your sister say she was a difficult case? It sounded as if she was ill. Are you fond of her, do the festivals she celebrates mean anything to you? Incredulously, Wilhelm shook his head, and there was confident determination in his face. Come away with me, be my wife and let’s begin a life together.

Helene was silent. A man like Wilhelm knew nothing of danger and obstacles that must be overcome. Helene didn’t look at him; she felt a strange stiffness at the back of her neck. If she shook her head he might call her cowardly, spineless. She would stay here. But where?

Are you telling me you distrust me because I’m German, with a German mother and a German father, and they had German mothers and fathers too? he asked.

I don’t distrust you. Helene shook her head. How could Wilhelm see her hesitation simply as distrust? She didn’t want to annoy him. She rather doubted what other options she had open to her. Her own mother was German, but obviously Wilhelm now understood being German in a different way. In modern opinion, German identity was expressed in racial characteristics and required the right sort of blood.

Your name is Alice, do you hear? If I say so it is so. If you don’t have a certificate of ancestry I’ll get you one, and believe me, it will be unobjectionable, it will leave no doubt as to your healthy descent.

You’re out of your mind. Helene was shocked. Could Wilhelm possibly be referring to the new laws whereby every deformity seen in the hospital had to be recorded and reported, because the birth of offspring with hereditary disease must be prevented? And weren’t certain mental illnesses, like the psychological disturbance that many of their neighbours detected in her own mother, also considered hereditary, to be avoided at all costs? The first commandment was to be bursting with good health, and anyone who couldn’t boast such health had better die as quickly as possible before the German people ran the risk of infection, of being besmirched and made unclean by the birth of sick children.

Don’t you believe me? I’ll do anything for you, Alice, anything.

What do you mean about healthy descent? Helene knew she wasn’t going to get a logical answer from Wilhelm.

Pure descent, my wife will be of pure descent, that’s all I mean. Wilhelm beamed. Don’t look so fierce, my treasure, who could have a purer, more spotless heart than this enchanting blonde woman opposite me?

Helene was amazed by this view of her. Perhaps it was because she had turned down his physical advances?

People are beginning to go away, leave Germany. Fanny’s friend Lucinde is going to England with her husband, said Helene.

Well, as for those who don’t love their forests and their Mother Earth in Germany, they’re welcome to turn their backs on their native land. Let them go, say I. Let them all go. We have work to do here, Helene. We will save the German nation, our fatherland and our mother tongue. Wilhelm rolled up his sleeves. We don’t deserve to perish. We’ll do it with these hands, do you see? No German may fold his hands in his lap these days. Indulging in despair and complaint is not our way. You will be my wife and I’ll give you my name.

Helene shook her head.

You hesitate? Don’t tell me you’d rather give up, Alice, don’t tell me that. He looked at her sternly, incredulously.

Wilhelm, I don’t deserve your love, I have nothing to give in return.

That will come, Alice, I’m sure of it. Wilhelm said this in a clear, frank voice, as if only her agreement were at stake, a decision that would unite them. Nothing in what she said seemed to hurt his feelings or shake his confidence in the slightest. His will would conquer, his will alone. Did she have no strong will of her own? Of course it takes a woman a certain time to get over a loss like yours, he said. You were going to get married, you and that boy. But it’s years ago; you must end your mourning some time, Alice.