Effi Briest (7 page)

Effi folded the letter again to put it back in the envelope.

‘That’s a very nice letter,’ said Frau von Briest, ‘and the way he always strikes the right balance is another thing in his favour.’

‘Yes, the right balance, that’s him.’

‘Let me ask you, my dear Effi, do you wish the letter didn’t strike the right balance, do you wish he was more affectionate, maybe effusively affectionate?’

‘No, no, Mamma. Really and truly no, that’s not what I want. It’s better the way it is.’

‘It’s better the way it is. The way you make that sound. You’re so strange. And earlier you were crying. Is there something on your mind? There’s still time. Don’t you love Geert?’

‘Why shouldn’t I love him? I love Hulda, I love Bertha, and I love Hertha. And I also love old Niemeyer. And that I love you goes without saying. I love everybody who wishes me well and is kind to me and spoils me. And I expect Geert will spoil me too. In his own way of course. He already wants to give me jewellery in Venice. He hasn’t the slightest inkling that I don’t care about jewellery. I prefer to climb or swing, especially when I’m afraid something’s going to snap or collapse and I might fall. It wouldn’t have to cost me my neck.’

‘And do you love Cousin Briest too perhaps?’

‘Yes, a lot. He always amuses me.’

‘And would you have liked to marry Cousin Briest?’

‘Marry him? My goodness no. Part of him’s still a boy. Geert is a man, a handsome man whom I can show off in society and who is going to be something in the world. What can you be thinking of Mamma?’

‘Well, that’s all right Effi, I’m pleased. But you do have something on your mind.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Well, tell me what it is.’

‘You see Mamma, it’s no bad thing that he’s older than me, and may even be a good thing: he isn’t old and he’s fit and healthy and so dashing and soldierly. And I might almost say that I’m all in favour of him, if only… well if only he were a bit different.’

‘How do you mean Effi?’

‘Well, how do I mean; now you mustn’t laugh at me. Something I heard just recently over at the pastor’s house made me think of it. We were talking about Innstetten, and suddenly old Niemeyer furrowed his brow, but it was with respect and admiration, and said, “Yes, the baron. He’s a man of character, a man of integrity.”’

‘And so he is Effi.’

‘Exactly. And I think Niemeyer went on to say he’s a man of principle. And that, I imagine, is a bit more. Oh, and I… I haven’t any. You see Mamma, there’s something about all this that worries and frightens me. He’s so good and kind to me and he’s so considerate, but… I’m afraid of him.’

The Wedding Eve party had pleased everybody, especially the performers, among whom Hulda had been the delight of all the young officers, both the Hussars from Rathenow and their somewhat more critical comrades from the Alexander Regiment. Yes, it had all gone off nice and smoothly, almost exceeding expectations. Except that Bertha and Hertha had sobbed so violently that Jahnke’s verses in
Plattdeutsch
were pretty well lost to the audience. But even that was no great loss. Certain connoisseurs were even of the opinion that this was the real thing; sobbing and forgetting your lines und unintelligibility – this was always the way (and above all with such fetching redheads) the most resounding triumphs were pulled off. Cousin Briest had a quite special triumph to be proud of in the role he had written for himself.
He had appeared as a shop assistant from Demuth’s who had discovered that the young bride intended to travel to Italy directly after the wedding and consequently wished to deliver a travelling case. The case of course turned out to be a giant box of sweets from Hövel’s. They had danced until three in the morning, an occasion for old Briest, talking more and more as the effect of the champagne reached its peak, to make all sorts of remarks about the torch-dances that were still kept up at various courts, and about the curious custom of dancing till one’s garters dropped, remarks which showed no sign of abating and went from bad to worse until in the end they reached such a pitch that the boom quite definitely had to be lowered. ‘Pull yourself together Briest,’ his wife whispered in his ear with an unmistakable note of seriousness, ‘you’re not here to make risqué remarks, but to do the honours of the house. This is a wedding, not a shooting party.’ Whereupon Briest replied he couldn’t see much difference; and anyway he was feeling happy.

The wedding day itself had gone off well too. Niemeyer has spoken excellently, and one of the old gentlemen from Berlin, who was on the edge of the court circle, had, on the way back from the church to the house for the reception, made observations to the effect that it was quite remarkable how thick on the ground talent was in a state like ours. ‘I view this as a triumph for our schooling, and perhaps even more so for our philosophy. When I think that this Niemeyer, an old village pastor who looked like a pauper when he stood up… now tell me, my friend, didn’t he speak like a court chaplain? The tact, the art of antithesis, just like Kögel, even superior to him in feeling. Kögel is too cold. Of course a man in his position has to be cold. What is it that brings us down in life? It’s always heat.’ The dignitary to whom these words were addressed was still unmarried and doubtless for that reason involved in his fourth ‘affair’, so he naturally agreed. ‘Only too true, dear friend,’ he said. ‘Too much heat!… quite excellent… Reminds me of a story I must tell you later.’

Briest, already on his third cigarette and looking very well, declared, ‘There’s nothing so good for one as a wedding, provided of course it isn’t one’s own.’

‘I don’t know Briest, how you can say such a thing. It’s a surprise to me that you think you’ve been suffering in your marriage. I can’t think why.’

‘Luise, play the game. But I won’t be provoked, not even by that kind of thing. Anyway, it’s not us we should be talking about, we didn’t even go on a honeymoon. Your father was against it. But now Effi’s on her honeymoon. Enviable. Off on the ten o’clock train. They must be passing Regensburg by now, and I think we can take it he’ll run through the principal art treasures of the Valhalla collection for her, without getting off the train of course. Splendid chap, Innstetten, but he does have a thing about art, whereas Effi, bless her, is a child of nature. He’ll put her through it, I fear, with his enthusiasm for art.’

‘Husbands always put you through it. And there are far worse foibles than an enthusiasm for art.’

‘Quite, quite. But don’t let’s argue about that. It’s a vast subject. And then people are so different. Now you, it would have suited you down to the ground. You would have been a better match all round for Innstetten than Effi, really. Pity, it’s too late now, of course.’

‘How charming of you, except that it’s quite inappropriate. And be that as it may, what’s in the past is in the past. He’s my son-in-law now and no good can come of harking back to our younger days.’

‘I was just trying to cheer you up.’

‘Very kind. But quite unnecessary. I feel cheered up already.’

‘You’re in a good mood then?’

‘I think I can say that. But you mustn’t spoil it. So what is it? I can see you have something on your mind.’

‘Were you happy about Effi? Were you happy about the whole affair? She was so strange, half child, almost, then full of self-confidence and not at all as deferential as she might be to a man of his standing. The only explanation I can think of is that she doesn’t fully appreciate the man she’s got. Or is it just that she doesn’t really love him? That would be bad. For with all his good points, he’s not the man to win her love with easy charm.’

Frau von Briest silently counted the stitches in her canvas. Finally she said, ‘Briest, that’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard from you in the last three days, and that includes your after-dinner speech. Yes, she had me wondering too. But I think we can stop worrying.’

‘Did she pour out her heart to you?’

‘I wouldn’t quite put it like that. She felt the need to talk, but not the need to express her innermost feelings, and she sorts out many things for
herself; she’s communicative and reserved at the same time, secretive almost; altogether a very odd mixture.’

‘I agree entirely. But if she didn’t say anything, how do you know?’

‘I just said she didn’t pour out her heart. A general confession, baring the soul, that kind of thing isn’t in her. It all came out in fits and starts, quite suddenly, and then it was over. But precisely because it was so involuntary and seemed to come out by sheer chance is why it was so important to me.’

‘So when was this, what was the occasion?’

‘It must have been just three weeks ago now. We were sitting in the garden, busy with all sorts of items for the household, large and small, when Wilke brought out a letter from Innstetten. She put it in her pocket, and I had to remind her a quarter of an hour later that she had a letter at all. Then she read it, scarcely showing a flicker of interest. I can tell you, my heart sank, so much so that I needed reassurance, as much as is possible in these matters.’

‘Very true, very true.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘Well, I only meant… But it doesn’t matter. Just carry on, I’m all ears.’

‘So I asked her straight out how matters stood, and, knowing what she’s like, I knew I had to avoid sounding solemn and keep everything as light as possible, almost make a joke of it, so I asked casually whether she would perhaps rather be marrying Cousin Briest who had courted her so very assiduously in Berlin.’

‘And?’

‘You should have seen her at that. Her immediate response was a saucy laugh. She said her cousin was really just an overgrown cadet in a lieutenant’s uniform. And a cadet she could never love, let alone marry. And then she talked of Innstetten who was suddenly the epitome of all masculine virtue.’

‘And how do you explain that?’

‘Quite simply. Although she’s so bright and vivacious, almost passionate, maybe even because of this, she’s not someone for whom love is the important thing, or at least not what we would term love. She talks about it of course, dwells on it even, in a tone of conviction up to a point, but only because she has read somewhere that love is the highest thing, the most beautiful, most splendid thing. It could be that she just has it from Hulda, sentimental soul that she is, and is parroting it. But she doesn’t feel anything much for all her talk. It may well be that it’s still to come, God forbid, but it’s not there yet.’

‘So what is there? What does she feel?’

‘In my opinion and as she herself says, two things: a love of pleasure, and ambition.’

‘Well, that can be accommodated. That’s a relief.’

‘Not to me. Instetten is ambitious for promotion – I wouldn’t call him a careerist, he’s not that, he’s too dignified for that, but he’s ambitious for promotion, and that will satisfy Effi’s ambition.’

‘Well, there you are. That’s good, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, that’s good! But it’s only half of it. Her ambition will be satisfied, but what about her desire for fun and adventure? I have my doubts. For her hourly little amusements and stimulation, for all that takes away boredom, the arch-enemy of a young person of wit and imagination, for all that Innstetten has very little to offer. He won’t leave her stranded in an intellectual desert, he’s too clever and too experienced for that, but he won’t be much fun either. And the worst of it is, he won’t even seriously address the problem of what is to be done. Things will be all right for a while and no great harm will be done, but then she’ll notice and she’ll feel insulted. And then I don’t know what will happen. For soft and accommodating as she is, there’s something reckless in her that will risk anything.’

At that moment Wilke came in from the drawing-room and announced that he had counted everything and all was present and correct, except for one of the fine crystal goblets which had been broken the previous day at the toast when Miss Hulda had clinked glasses too hard with Lieutenant Nienkerken.

‘Only to be expected, she’s always in a dream, and that romantic scene under the elder tree didn’t improve matters. A silly girl, I just don’t understand Nienkerken.’

‘I understand him perfectly.’

‘He can’t possibly marry her.’

‘No.’

‘Well, what’s the point?’

‘It’s a vast subject, Luise.’