Andres Neuman - Traveller of the Century

After each brief parting, after that tranquil repossession of ourselves separately, I feel ready to embark upon a sweeter conquest of ourselves together.

With you, love from

H

The smoke from the tables formed a halo round Álvaro’s hat, crept round its brim like a ghost along a cornice, then, rising up its crown, finally disappeared with a shimmer among the oil lamps. Café Europa had filled up suddenly, as though the customers had been waiting for a signal to storm the doors. Álvaro had been over some of the company budgets, had ordered a cup of hot chocolate and was presently leafing through an out-of-date copy of the Daily Clarion . Hans was on his sixth coffee of the day, and was absent-mindedly contemplating the vagaries of the smoke. Álvaro had just said goodbye to Elsa and Hans had arrived fresh from his tryst with Sophie. Neither of them had ever mentioned these parallel encounters, not out of mistrust but out of discretion. Whatever became of his affair with Elsa, Álvaro reflected, it would have few repercussions. The situation with Sophie was different, much more delicate. And he wasn’t sure which was more helpful to Hans — continuing to hold his tongue or speaking up once and for all.

Have you seen this? Álvaro said, deciding to dissemble, and picking up another newspaper. Have you seen the Manchester Guardian ? He opened it and spread out a double page that overlapped the table. Hans leant forward and read the caption — in Frankfurt they had just celebrated the anniversary of Metternich’s naming as chancellor. King Francis of Austria, King Frederick William of Prussia, Tsar Nicolas, King George of England and King Charles of Spain had all attended. Hans shrugged. Have you seen these speeches? Álvaro went on. Listen to this: “His Imperial Majesty”—referring to King Francis—“emphasised his continuing achievements”—he means Metternich—“a result of his unstinting zeal”—zeal! They can say that again—“his political astuteness and the courage with which he has devoted himself to safeguarding the established order”—it’s nothing if not accurate! — “and the triumph of law over the chaos wrought by those who aim to disturb the peace both within and beyond our borders”. Well, it goes on like that, and then: “His Majesty Frederick William III of Prussia praised Metternich’s career, extolled the Assembly’s work, and warned of the need to increase the room for manoeuvre of the German states”—what a nerve! And then, listen: “At all times in a spirit of friendship and cooperation”—how touching! “His Majesty King George IV underlined the importance of the Quadruple Alliance, which strengthens the economic and trade agreements between the states regardless of religious differences”. Ah, they’re so English, the English! But there’s more, listen to what … Sorry, interrupted Hans, may I? Álvaro handed over the newspaper, raising his arms in a gesture of innocence. Hans read in silence:

Finally Prince Metternich took the floor, ending his speech to the applause of the Parliament: “The word freedom has no value as a point of departure, but rather as an end worth fighting for. It is the word ‘order’ that designates the point of departure. Admirers of today’s press wish to dignify it with the title of representative of public opinion, although it merely publishes the views of its journalists. Do these same demagogues even recognise the aforesaid function, that of representing public opinion, in the consensual declarations of our governments? Public opinion is a powerful force in every sense. Like religion, it penetrates where administrative measures cannot. Underestimating the power of the press would be as perilous as underestimating the value of moral principles. Posterity would never understand if we responded with silence to our opponents’ protests. The fall of empires depends on the spread of unbelief. That is why religious belief continues to be not only the highest virtue, but the greatest of powers. And therefore a decline in religion would also bring about a decline in the power of our nations.

Hans sighed.

By the way, Álvaro continued to dissemble, how is the organ grinder? Last night I had supper with him, said Hans, he’s the same as always, he sings to himself and sleeps like a baby. Sometimes he coughs. I succeeded in buying him a new shirt and threatened to give him a bath. What did he say to that? asked Álvaro. He thinks cleanliness is overrated, replied Hans, that it depends on guilt and he is at peace with his conscience. Hans and Álvaro both laughed, but then suddenly Hans went quiet. Álvaro asked him how the translations were going and he said they were going well, he mentioned three or four poets and fell silent quiet again. Then Álvaro thought Hans might be anticipating another question and he resolved to bring up the subject. He was poised to open his mouth when there was a collision of billiard balls, followed by victorious cheers.

Listen, Álvaro said at last looking straight at him, you are aware of the trouble you’re getting into, aren’t you? Hans gave a sigh, more of relief than unease. A smile flickered over his lips. Then he looked down, contemplated the dregs of his coffee, shrugged and said: It’s out of my control now. And I don’t want to control it. Álvaro nodded. After a measured pause, he went on: What about Sophie? Sophie, replied Hans, has more courage than both of us together. And the wedding? said Álvaro. I suppose it’ll have to go ahead, murmured Hans, Sophie doesn’t need saving, only loving. But do you seriously love her? asked Álvaro. So seriously, said Hans, that I know very well I mustn’t obstruct this wedding. And afterwards? said Álvaro. Afterwards, replied Hans, I’ve no idea. We’ll either continue seeing each other … Or? Álvaro pressed him. Or I’ll leave for Dessau, concluded Hans, where Herr Lyotard is expecting me.

Álvaro’s hat continued to smoke, as if it was on fire. They did not notice when a fly landed on the brim. The fly liked it. It stayed there.

Tell me something, Álvaro said, if you’re so in love with Sophie, how can you stand her being with another man while she’s with you? Because while she’s with me, Hans grinned, she’s not with anyone else. Yes, but you’re not the only one, said Álvaro, and when you really love. The truth is, Hans interrupted, we’re never the only ones. Everyone is or thinks about being with others. Come now, said Álvaro, you don’t fool me, don’t pretend you aren’t jealous when you think of her and Rudi together! (The fly began crawling over the hat, rubbing its tiny legs on the shiny fabric.) I’m not saying I never feel jealous, replied Hans, only that my jealousy doesn’t depend on what she does. One can be eaten up with jealous imaginings. But aren’t you afraid of losing her? Álvaro insisted, that she’ll choose someone else, Rudi or some other man? Of course! said Hans. I just doubt I could prevent that by being the only man she sleeps with, do you see? I’d even go so far as to say one is more likely to lose a woman if one tries to stop her meeting other men. And what if she meets someone else and falls for him, Álvaro argued. There’s always that danger, Hans admitted, but frustrated curiosity is an even greater peril. We can become obsessed with someone we’ve never touched precisely because we’ve never touched them. That’s why I always mistrust faithful women, don’t laugh, they’re capable of idealising another man so much it becomes impossible for them not to fall in love with him. Don’t relationships between faithful couples fail? And how many marriages survive thanks to lovers? I’m still not sure, sighed Álvaro, if you’re pulling my leg, or if you genuinely believe this. My dear fellow, replied Hans, I do believe you’re becoming conservative in your old age! Álvaro shook his head: This is the young man in you speaking. When you’re young you enjoy playing with ambiguity. But as you grow older you stop being certain of almost everything, and you cling like a leech to the few things you know — the one you love, your family, your territory. I’m not as young as you think, replied Hans, and, aside from Sophie, I’m no longer certain of anything. And what about her, does she share your ideas? asked Álvaro. Oh, very much so! Hans chuckled. And besides … Besides what? Álvaro enquired, leaning closer. (The fly’s tiny wings quivered, threatened to take off.) And besides, Hans whispered, that way she’ll give me more pleasure, she can teach me what she learns with others. Oh, please! Álvaro exclaimed. Now you’re being cynical! No, no, Hans bridled, it’s impossible to be cynical when you’re in love. And I’m more in love with Sophie than I’ve ever been with anyone. How can I explain, for me there’s nothing more beautiful than feeling chosen, do you understand? Anyway, either report me to Father Pigherzog or buy me another coffee, it’s your turn. Coffee, no, said Álvaro, whisky. Waiter! Two whiskies, please! Both for this gentleman!