The Piano Teacher: A Novel (35 page)

The teacher has left a warm hollow in the bed, and it is slowly cooling off. She has also left her mother, who is not yet waking up. What an ungrateful child, to forget her tried-and-true companion of so many years! The man on the telephone demands that she unlock the front door immediately. Erika clutches the receiver. She didn’t expect his proximity. She actually expected the tenderest words, the announcement of nocturnal wishes and complete proximity very soon, perhaps tomorrow afternoon at three, in a small café. Erika expected a precise plan from the man in order to build a nest. They’ll talk about it tomorrow and during the next few days! They’ll discuss whether the relationship can be a joy forever; then they’ll start the relationship. The man enjoys and waits unwillingly; the woman sets up whole blocks of buildings, because in her, everything is affected in its terrible and ominous totality. That disagreeable fact: woman and her feelings. This woman instantly
sets up complicated structures, similar to a wasps’ nest, in order to make herself at home inside. And Walter Klemmer generally feels that once she’s begun to build, he won’t be able to get rid of her. He’s outside the front door again, waiting for it to open, which would benefit Erika. It’s now or never! Erika pedantically weighs every last detail, then gets the keys. Mother sleeps on. In her sleep, nothing shoots through the core of her brain, because she already has her house and a daughter inside it. She finds plans unnecessary. The daughter anticipates a reward for long years of disciplined accomplishments. It was worth it. Very few women wait for Mr. Right. Most women take the first and worst Mr. Wrong. Erika chooses the very last one to come along, and he is truly the best of the lot. There’s no surpassing him! The woman thinks—almost as if forced to—in terms of numbers and equivalents. She imagines she is being rewarded for loyal service in the realm of Art. If male willpower can actually lead her away from her tried-and-true mother, then her work has been a success. Fine with me. The student will soon be getting his degree, she’s got a job with a decent salary. She decides for him that the age difference is trivial.

Erika opens the building door and trustingly puts herself in the man’s hands. She jokes that she is in his power. She swears she would rather forget all about my stupid letter, but what’s done is done. She had a mishap, but she’ll make up for it, dearest Why do we need letters? After all, we know everything there is to know about each other. We reside in each other’s most intimate thoughts! And our thoughts nourish us constantly with their honey. Erika Kohut, who would not remind the man of his body’s failure for all the tea in China says: Come right in! Walter Klemmer, who would rather act as if his body had never failed him in the first place, enters the building. Many things are made available to him, and he is
flattered by the selection. Some things he’s simply going to take!

He says to Erika: Let’s be clear about one thing. There’s nothing worse than a woman who wants to rewrite Creation. A topic for humor magazines. Klemmer is material for a whole novel. He enjoys himself but never consumes himself. On the contrary, he enjoys his coldness, those ice cubes in his oral cavity. Acquiring property freely means being able to leave at any time. The property remains behind and waits. He will soon pass the phase represented by this woman; he could swear it. After all, she has rejected mutual feelings, an offer he originally meant sincerely. Now it’s too late. Time for my conditions, K. proposes. He will not be laughed at a second time; K. assures her on his word of honor. He threateningly asks her who she thinks she is. This question is not improved by repeated use.

Walter Klemmer pushes the woman back into the apartment. A numb exchange of words results, because she won’t put up with it. Sometimes she forestalls with words. During the exchange, she complains to the man that he has pushed her into her own apartment, where he is only a visitor. But then she discards a bad habit: constant nagging. I have a lot to learn, she says modestly. She even catches an excuse in her claws, and places the still-bleeding prey at his feet. She doesn’t want to mess everything up right off the bat, she thinks. She regrets making so many mistakes, most of them right off the bat. The first step is always the hardest: Erika proves the importance of a true beginning. Mother now awakens slowly, hesitantly, because of the harsh exchange of words, as she is forced to realize. Mother’s ambition is to rule. Who is talking here in the middle of the night, as loudly as in the daytime, and in my own apartment, with my own daughter? The man reacts with a threatening gesture. The two women are already laying the
bricks for a counterattack against the lone man. Erika is slapped in the face before she even knows what’s happening. Did you see that?! Yes, Erika did see that. The slap was dealt by Klemmer, and successfully! Astonished, she holds her cheek and fails to reply. Mother is dumbstruck. If anyone is going to slap Erika, it’ll be Mother. A few seconds later, while Klemmer remains silent, Erika tells him to leave immediately. Mother backs her up and turns her back on them to demonstrate that she is disgusted by the entire spectacle. In triumph, Klemmer softly asks the daughter: This isn’t how you pictured it originally, is it? Mother is astonished that the man will not vanish without an argument. She’s not the least bit interested in what they’re saying, she informs the air around her. No voice is raised in loud complaint. A second slap strikes Frau Erika’s other cheek. This is no loving encounter of skin and skin. Erika keeps her whimpering down because of the neighbors. Mother perks up her ears. She is forced to realize that her daughter is being degraded into something like a piece of athletic gear. Mother indignantly points out that he is damaging someone else’s property, namely hers! Mother concludes: Get out of here at once. And as fast as you can.

The man clutches this mother’s daughter, as if appropriating a piece of equipment. Erika is still half numbed by sleep. She doesn’t understand how it is possible that love can be requited so poorly—
her
love. We always expect rewards for our accomplishments. We believe that other people’s accomplishments do not have to be rewarded. We hope to acquire those accomplishments more cheaply. Mother gets into gear; she wishes to involve the police. She is therefore shoved back violently into her room, where she crashes to the floor. Klemmer explains that he is not talking to her. It just won’t sink in. Up till now, Mother always had the choice. Klemmer assures her we have time—all night, if necessary. Erika does not blossom upward
anymore. Klemmer asks her whether this is what she imagined. Swelling up like a siren, she says no. Mother struggles into a seated position and threatens the student with something dreadful, in which Mother will play a decisive part. If worst comes to worst, she will get help from other people, That’s what the aging saint swears. And he’ll be sorry he’s doing these things to a woman who should be treated with care, a woman who might also become a mother someday. He should think about
his
mother! Erika’s mother feels sorry for his mother because she had to give birth to him. Meanwhile Erika’s mother fights her way to the door, but there she is once again rudely shoved back. In order to shove her back, Walter Klemmer has to ignore Erika briefly. He then locks Mother’s room, leaving Mother inside its narrow confines. The key to this bedroom is supposed to lock the daughter out whenever Mother finds such punishment desirable and necessary. In her initial shock, Mother thinks: Locked out! She scratches on the door. She whimpers and threatens. Klemmer grows stronger in the face of resistance. Woman spells danger for the competitive athlete before a difficult competition. Erika’s and his wishes get all tangled up. Erika sobs: This isn’t how I pictured it. She says what people say after a play: Is that all there is? On the one hand, Erika is inundated by her flesh; on the other hand, by a violence that developed out of unrequited love.

Erika expects him at least to say he’s sorry, if not more. But no. She is glad Mother can’t butt in. At last, Erika can deal privately with private things. Who thinks of Mother or mother love now, aside from a person who wants to produce a child? The man in Klemmer speaks out. Erika tries to ignite his willpower with a deliberate, if trivial, exposure. She pleads until the kindling blazes up and one can add a thicker log of desire. Her face is slapped yet again, although she says: Please, not my head! She hears something about her age, which is at least
thirty-five, whether she likes it or not. She is slowly dimmed by his sexual repulsion. Her pupils cloud over more and more. The benefits of hatred are finally donated to Klemmer. He is enchanted. Reality clears up for him like an overcast day in late summer. He was not being true to his own self, that was why he camouflaged this wonderful hatred with love for such a long time. This camouflage appealed to him for a long time. But now he’s sloughing it off.

The woman on the floor regards various things as passionate desire; his behavior would be halfway appropriate to passion alone. That’s something Erika Kohut once heard. But that’s enough, darling! Let’s start with something better! She would like to see pain eliminated from the repertoire of love gestures. Now she’s feeling it personally, physically, and she begs to return to the normal version of love. Let us approach the other with understanding. Walter Klemmer overcomes the woman violently, even though she says she’s changed her mind. Please don’t hit me. My ideal is shared feelings again. Erika revises her opinions too late. She expresses the opinion that she, as a woman, needs lots of warmth and affection. She holds her hand over her mouth, which is bleeding at one corner. It’s an impossible ideal, the man replies. He’s only waiting for the woman to retreat a bit; then he’ll go after her. He is driven by a hunter’s instinct. It’s the instinct of the water athlete and engineer, warning him of depths and rocks. If the woman reaches out to him, he’s gone! Erika pleads with Klemmer to show his good side. But Klemmer is getting to know freedom.

Walter Klemmer smashes his right fist, not too hard and not too soft, into Erika’s belly. She tumbles back again after standing upright. Erika huddles over, pressing her hands into her abdomen. This is the stomach. The man managed to do it without straining himself. He is not at odds with himself. On the contrary, he has never been so intensely at one with himself.
He jeers at her: Where are her cords and ropes? And where are her chains? I’m only executing your orders, madame. Now gags and straps can’t help you, mocks Klemmer, who produces the effects of gags and straps without using such aids. Numbed by liqueur, Mother drums her fists on the door. She doesn’t know what’s happening to her, she doesn’t know what to do. She is also nervous because she doesn’t know what’s happening to her daughter. A mother can see without seeing. She didn’t oversee her child’s freedom, and now someone else is heedlessly mishandling that freedom. From now on, I’ll keep watch twice as carefully, Mother promises herself, hoping the young man will leave something still worth supervising. She finally twisted the child into shape, and now someone else is twisting her again. Mother is raging.

Meanwhile, Klemmer is laughing his head off at the flesh he has twisted: At your age, you’d better say good night! Erika weeps, citing the things they have experienced and suffered during lessons. She pleads: Don’t you remember the differences between sonatas? He makes fun of men who put up with anything from women. That’s not the kind of man
he
is. She’s gone much too far. She’s generally far gone—where are her whips and restraints now? Klemmer gives her a choice: either you or me. His solution is: me. But you’re resurrected in my hatred, the man comforts her. Maltreating her head, which is poorly shielded by her arms, he tosses her a hard tidbit: If you weren’t a victim, you couldn’t become one! He asks her what’s going to happen with her marvelous letter. No answers are necessary.

Mother, behind the bedroom door, expects the worst for her private one-person zoo. Erika, weeping, lists all the good things she’s done for the student, her tireless efforts in training his musical taste and perfecting his musical abilities. Bawling, Erika mentions the benefits of her love—an extra assignment for the
man and the student. She tries to gain control. Only naked power prevents her. The man is stronger. Erika foams and fumes: He can only control her with brute force. For which she is hit twice and thrice.

In Klemmer’s hatred, the woman suddenly grows out freely like a tree. This tree is pruned and clipped and has to learn to take it. A hand numbly smacks a face. Behind the door, Mother doesn’t know what’s happening, but “she is so agitated that she joins in the weeping. She wishes she could take one of her countless trips to the half-emptied liqueur cabinet. She cannot call for help: The telephone is in the hallway, unreachable.

Klemmer jeers at Erika about her age: A woman in her condition has nothing to expect from him in regard to love. He was only pretending, he never cared for her, it was just a scientific experiment. Klemmer thus denies his honorable needs. And where are your famous ropes now? He slices the air as if with a razor. She should stick to men her own age or older, he proposes, as he disposes of her. Klemmer strikes away at her aimlessly. His rage did not seek the opportunity to inflict evil or injustice. Quite the contrary. His rage was formed, gradually but thoroughly, by his falling in love. After a detailed investigation, Erika showed this man the appreciation of her love, and bang! What happens?

If he is to advance in love and emotion, he has to destroy the woman who actually laughed at him when she had the upper hand! She expected him to tie her, gag her, rape her, she demanded it, and now she’s getting her just deserts. Just scream, Klemmer demands, just scream. The woman weeps loudly. Behind the door, the woman’s mother weeps too. She doesn’t even know why.

Erika, bleeding slightly, curls up like an embryo, and the work of destruction progresses. In Erika, the man sees many other women he wanted to get rid of. He snaps the words in
her face. He’s still young. I have my whole life ahead of me. Yes, now it’s really gonna be great! After I graduate, I’m gonna take a long vacation abroad. He holds out the bait, then yanks it back: I’m going alone! No one can claim you’re young, can they, Erika? If he’s young, she’s old. If he’s a man, she’s a woman. Walter Klemmer whimsically kicks her in the ribs as she lies on the floor. He doses the violence out so carefully that nothing breaks. He has always controlled his own body, at least. Walter Klemmer steps across Erika, a threshold, out into freedom. She brought this on by trying to control him and his desires. This is what she gets.