Andres Neuman - Traveller of the Century

Halfway through the afternoon, Hans noticed the logs burning in the marble fireplace — he thought there were too few for such a big room. Glancing around, it occurred to him the candles looked less white and gave off a more unpleasant smell, which led him to deduce that they were made from a cheaper wax than the usual ones. Rudi Wilderhaus’s patent-leather shoes creaked, his pointed shoulders tensed, and for a moment Hans imagined him as a two-branched candlestick. Only then did he hear Rudi’s words, which he had stopped listening to a while ago: A little over two months, Rudi declared. Two months? said Frau Pietzine excitedly. They will go by in a flash! Rudi, beaming with satisfaction, seized Sophie’s hand, which she gave up half-heartedly, and announced: We will spend our honeymoon in Paris. Oh, my dears, oh! Frau Pietzine declared, her excitement growing. Hans brushed against Álvaro’s elbow. Álvaro whispered in his ear: Coño , that’s original! Frau Pietzine perceived Hans’s sardonic expression and raised her voice: My dear girl, men will never understand how much the ceremony means to us. Entering the church in white as the organ plays. Led down the aisle amid a cloud of incense. Watching out of the corner of our eye our friends and family gathered for this one occasion, smiling through their tears. Men cannot imagine how intensely we long for this moment from a young age. Yet years later, my dear, believe me, this ends up being the most important memory of our lives, the one we will recall in the minutest detail — the flower mosaics, the lighted candles, the children’s choir singing, the priest’s voice, the ring on the anxious finger, the holy blessing and most of all, isn’t it so, Herr Gottlieb, the proud arm of our father. Hans tried to catch Sophie’s eye in the mirror. She looked away, a vacant smile on her face.

Professor Mietter’s echoing voice called him back to the discussion. What about you, Herr Hans? Do you agree with Pascal? Not knowing whether he was being sarcastic, Hans decided to reply: If that’s what Pascal says, I have no objection. I believe Pascal also said almost no one knows how to live in the present. This applies equally to me, so please forgive my absent-mindedness. Sophie came to his aid: We were discussing whether or not Pascal was right in considering it dangerous to reveal the injustice of a law, given that people obey laws precisely because they believe them to be just. Ah, Hans thought on his feet, mmm, a profound idea, and a fallacious one perhaps, for many a just law has arisen as a result of people rebelling against unjust laws. Not necessarily, said Herr Levin, not necessarily. If you’ll allow me, Álvaro asserted, I’d like to quote an idea of Pascal’s which I find delightfully republican, “the power of kings is based on the folly of the people”, I think this explains the question of law. God help us! Professor Mietter groaned, straightening his wig. Pascal deserves more than mere demagoguery!

Professor Mietter appeared hungry for debate, and exasperatingly dialectical. Imagine, Herr Urquiho , the professor said, only the other day I was looking through Tieck’s translation of Don Quixote , which, to be honest, I don’t think is much of an improvement on that of Bertuch (what? Hans countered. Bertuch even changed the title! Really? Álvaro was surprised, what did he call it? Life and Miracles of the Wise Landowner Don Quixote ! replied Hans. Imagine how ghastly. And how mistaken, added Álvaro, because Alonso Quijano has no land to speak of, and he fails at almost every miracle he tries to create. The only miracle, Hans chuckled, was that Bertuch managed to teach himself Spanish by translating Quixote ), perhaps, gentlemen, perhaps. In any event, you must admit it is amusing that a militant romantic such as Tieck should translate a book that mocks all his own ideals. In my view, Soltau’s is the most successful translation (too anachronistic, Hans disagreed), alles klar , my compliments on being more meticulous than me, but going back to what were we saying, while I was rereading Quixote the other day, I thought: Is Don Quixote not a conservative at the end of the day, a conservative in the best meaning of the word? Why is he considered a revolutionary hero when what he really wants is for history to stop and for the world to be the way it was before, when what he really longs for is a return to feudalism? (Ah, said Rudi, rousing himself and closing his snuffbox, not for nothing did they call him a wise man!) In contrast, gentlemen, I don’t know what you think, but in my opinion his most brilliant speech is the one about arms and letters. (My dear professor, Hans laughed, I hope you won’t be disappointed to hear that we very nearly agree.) Heavens, young man, what a welcome change! In this discourse, Don Quixote refutes a separation, which unfortunately still holds sway — physical strength on the one hand and intellectual prowess on the other. I would even venture to say that the thing has worsened, because today the humanities themselves have been divided into the arts on the one hand and the sciences on the other, further evidence of the decline of the West. How can feeling be separated from reason? And how can anyone deny that a lack of physical fitness is an obstacle to understanding? I for example read much better after doing physical exercise (surely, Hans argued, Don Quixote wasn’t referring to physical so much as military strength), you are wrong, he was referring to both, and moreover they are one and the same, war is as necessary to the peace of nations as physical strength is to the peace of the spirit. (You can’t be serious, said Hans, wars don’t happen in order to bring peace, and physical strength is seldom used to enhance the spirit. Well, Álvaro asserted, in this instance the professor is right, in his speech about arms and letters Don Quixote says as much, doesn’t he, “the aim of weapons is to bring peace, and this peace signals the true end to war”. That sounds like something the Holy Alliance would sign up to, Hans retorted.) Or Robespierre, Herr Hans, or Robespierre! (For your information, Professor, Hans replied angrily, I find Robespierre every bit as repellent as Metternich. What? exclaimed Álvaro, you can’t be serious?) Gentlemen, you cannot imagine the pleasure it gives me to see the pair of you at odds. (My dear friends, Sophie intervened, please let’s calm down, the whole purpose of these gatherings is to have different opinions, there would be no point to them otherwise. I beg you not to become agitated. As for this admirable speech, I’d like to remind you from my position of boundless ignorance that our hero from La Mancha, he who compares arms and letters, becomes a knight thanks to letters, not arms. And incidentally he does much more speaking than fighting, and wins arguments rather than battles. Elsa, my dear, would you bring the cakes?)

Ah, no, forgive me, the professor objected, when we speak of Calderón we speak of a poet rather than a playwright. It is enough to read the verse in his plays, which far outweighs the action. Furthermore, with all due respect, lieber Herr Gottlieb, for I am aware of your fondness for him, Calderón serves up his poetry with too liberal a sprinkling of holy allusions. Faith is one thing, religious zeal another. Good grief, Professor, declared Álvaro, how very Spanish you are this afternoon! As Spanish, retorted Professor Mietter, as the confusion to which I have just alluded. I shan’t deny it, smiled Álvaro, I shan’t deny it. My favourite of all the Catholic poets is Quevedo — he could be reactionary, but never overly pious. God! What sublime wickedness, if you’ll pardon the expression. What exasperates me about Calderón are his religious plays, rich and poor as one in death, kings and their subjects joined in the afterlife! What would Sancho Panza have said of The Great Theatre of the World ? My dear friend, the professor said solemnly, if anything makes us equal it is death. That is an inescapable truth, and a powerful idea for theatre — hearing what the dead would say if they knew what awaited them. Only by politicising philosophy can one question such a thing. Look, replied Álvaro, if life is a play, then Calderón forgot to describe what goes on behind the scenes. All that interest in the afterlife disguises what’s going on here and now. Didn’t Cervantes do the exact opposite in Quixote ? He moved us by showing up everyday inequalities, injustices and corruption. By contrast the death of his character, what happens afterwards, is almost irrelevant. How can you say that, protested the professor, when Quijano recants on his deathbed! Quijano recants, said Álvaro, but not Don Quixote.