The Wall (76 page)

“No, the honored sir is much too noble to begin with my wallpaper. That I know. A fussy intellectual, yes, I understand. That’s why I thought of Scher. He’d be impressed with you, but as you are now he’d think you were dreck. He’d set your head straight, though; that’s his job. He’s quite agreeable, it would surprise you, and he’s been around the block. What I say to him is as holy as a taboo. All I have to do is let him know, and he does it straight off. Perhaps he could use you as a kind of social worker. That would be right up your alley, wouldn’t it? I’m thinking as a career counselor. Could you do that? As a sociologist, certainly you’ve studied a bit of psychology, graphology, Rorschach tests, or some such methodology?”

“I don’t think I’d be well suited to it.”

“You’re such a shit! You’re not well suited to anything! When someone isn’t well suited to anything, then there’s nothing he can do and he ends up on the rubbish heap. Just think of that, and to hell with you! I’ll go to Scher soon, in about two weeks, no sooner.”

“If it’s for me, it will be a waste of your time.”

“Stop being so disagreeable! I’m fed up with you, you’re wasting my time—”

“Can I go now? In fourteen days I can certainly—”

“You can’t do anything! Stay here! I will talk to Scher about your situation. For example, he always has a bunch of crash courses in the offing which he organizes around professions that are easy to learn, a lot of things that one can do something with. I don’t know what would be suited to you; he will figure that out. Certainly not a course in engraving monograms. Or do you like monograms? Watchmaking, perhaps? Or hand-weaving? That’s something for philosophers, for you can dream away while doing it. Well, then, say something! For once, give yourself a leg up! Yes?”

I didn’t say anything, yet Kolex was already puffed up with a new round of his blabber.

“Well, then, I see. It’s probably best that you think on it a couple of days. Then call me up. Or I’ll call you, don’t call me. The laurel might fall from the honored sir’s forehead. Inhibitions. This we know. But there’s nothing to really consider. You just get at it. Reckless, not feckless! Whoever considers too long before the hand held out to him will be left in the dust.”

I was quiet and had to remain so in order to avoid bursting out in anger and causing all the guests to turn their attention to me. Konirsch-Lenz banged with a key on the marble tabletop until a waiter appeared, at which he ordered a black coffee for us both, a repulsive-smelling brew, as well as a leathery piece of cake nestled in a paper wrapper that I could remove only with some effort. I didn’t want to touch either the coffee or the cake—both of them would make me sick—but there was no mercy; I had to swallow it all. Who knew what upset the man so except the fact that I continued to resist. Already he was suggesting new plans. Kolex leafed through a notebook made of his wallpaper and began to write a letter to Herr Scher. He should be the one to examine me closely, in order to sort out the rest. Yet it didn’t take long for this recommendation to be written out in a hurried hand that trotted along and then stopped, at which I, pressed to do so, nodded uncertainly. Letters of recommendation were an awkward business, because dozens of them passed between hands, and Konirsch-Lenz wouldn’t have had anything to do with them. The wallpaper itself simply awaited a personal touch. What one wrote was stupid flattery, outright lies, or extortion, and, in any case, the fabrication of false facts.

“Letters are nothing but lies. A banal method of pulling the wool over someone’s eyes, used for ages. One no longer comes to an agreement through such things these days. You must know that best of all. And what did it get you? Not what some dirt under your little fingernails would! There you have it! If I’m sent letters that are not pure business letters, but rather private letters, then I have no use for the private ones, for I prefer not to read them at all and throw them straight away. All they do is beg, that being the point, every last one of them. This charade makes me want to puke. Letters? All I need is a rubbish basket.”

The sheets of wallpaper soon unfurled their social views. I should note that the social-safety-net economy wasn’t worth anything. It’s awful, a spreading cancer of our time, for no one wants to work. Everyone relies on
everyone else, the result being so mediocre and pathetic that you can’t help turning up your nose at it. Herr Konirsch-Lenz ripped up the letter he’d begun into little pieces that he played with until they were all balled up. Then he pressed them one by one into the ashtray that, earlier, guests had filled in a disgusting manner.

What kind of miserable impression would it make, was the talk that went forward, if I were to march in with such a scrap of paper, a strong man at the height of his powers? I needed to speak up. But he kept on just the same about Self-Help, Scher, crash courses, all of it mixed up together, though when finally my counterpart shut up for a minute, I quickly posed the question of whether the courses were free.

“How could you ever come up with such a harebrained idea? Free? There is nothing in this world that is free, not even death!”

At this, a searching look fell upon me that caused me to feel lowly and crushed, a lowly cur who was trying to squeeze into some little hole. Behind me there pressed a wild pursuit hot on my heels. I had to crawl over the dead that had been thrown there, those that had been choked and beaten, deposited there, starving and in festering misery, stacked up like naked dolls and buried, their last breath a phlegmy curse. Behind me I could hear riotous shouts, then shots rang out, pointed cries, and thunderous rolling metal, sticks snapping with a groan and straw rustling that burned on a piled-high funeral pyre. Wavering commands snaked across the brittle flats as I pressed farther into the thicket. I wanted to save myself, so I had to keep to the edge, where it wasn’t so dangerous, farther and farther away from the middle! Not completely on the edge, but near it, somewhere in between, where less occurred and I could wait out the rumbling that circled me. An endless coming and going of guests went on about me. Lost spirits scrambled among the cold tables, crashing into chairs that scraped along stubbornly, the plates on the table clanging, the waiters pale and impatient and threatening the refugees with outstretched arms. Many just wanted to pay the bill and get out of there, but in vain, the white caps shaking, the fluttering aprons throwing off puffs of deadly dust. It was a day of judgment, Cain had killed Abel, a cup fell, smoking, the gushing coffee spilling like blood on the dirty floor, the entreating glance of the father following, a best shirt spoiled, and sobs welling up in the throat of the approaching mother. Already a custodian was on
the job, raising his sword of justice, complaining above the pieces, a waiter yammering on, blaming everyone and no one, some guests wandering about with suitcases they anxiously carried and that swayed like anchors.

I sat there tight and sweaty in my chair amid the damp arches of perdition, suffering and trembling under the punitive condemnations of the thin wallpaper, immersed in burning pain. What else could I do but allow my hearing and my sight to be offended? But, finally, the punitive condemnations faded away, the wallpaper curled and was folded, such that Herr Konirsch-Lenz once again sat across from me as a living person with eyes and a mouth, his lips moving vigorously.

“Why aren’t you eating your cake?”

He asked this in a dictatorial way and pointed to a little bit left over on my plate that lay there like a heavy lump. Silently I obeyed, and forked up this last bit, turning it in disgust within my mouth from one side to the other until the factory owner had to think that I had already swallowed it. Then I grabbed my napkin as if I wanted to blow my nose and I let the bite disappear into it.

“Certainly the crash courses aren’t free. One could not expect that of Self-Help. My friend, they have to run on their own, without any public funding. But they are cheap and not-for-profit. Self-Help is not looking to make money off them. The higher-ups have to just make sure to cover their costs. What were you thinking? The courses are taught conscientiously. Excellent faculty with first-class qualifications teach them. At the end you can take an exam, get a diploma, and then have a good chance of being considered for a job. In addition, as a graduate of a course you have the chance to seek advice from the job-placement service of Self-Help. The service is free and requires only a small processing fee for each placement. But you only pay once you know you have gotten a position. It’s even better if you decide to become a member of Self-Help, because then you don’t have to pay the processing fee.”

The lecture on Self-Help kept rambling on until finally even Herr Konirsch-Lenz was exhausted. His anger had waned, he had mellowed, and so he tugged at the apron of a waiter hurrying past and ordered gin and tonics for us both. When the drinks were brought, I had to toast to my future with him. He then began to tell me about his younger days, about old
socialist ideals, and the Lenz School in Mecklenburg. He became maudlin. Almost two hours had elapsed since we had gotten together, but I still had other things I wanted to get done that morning. I became impatient, for there seemed no end in sight. Ever more impatiently I shifted in my seat, such that it could not have gone unnoticed. Then the wallpaper maker asked me what was wrong. When I explained that I had promised Johanna to run an errand for her in the city, I was complimented, though at the same time Kolex was again angry, as if I had only taken up his time with my hopeless case. Indeed, if any of it was still to lead to anything he would be pleased, but as far as he could see, despite his efforts I wasn’t any smarter. Then I pulled myself together and almost arrogantly responded that his misgivings were all too true. There was no turning me into a good apple.

Herr Konirsch-Lenz looked at me so severely that I expected him to erupt into anger once again. Only a consideration of where we were held him back. I wanted to quickly say goodbye, or not say goodbye, really, but just leave quickly without saying a word, but I missed my chance to do so and had to wait until he settled the bill. Outside I wanted, for Johanna’s sake, to maintain my good manners and politely thank him for everything and then disappear into the bustling streets, but once again Konirsch-Lenz beat me to the punch. With feigned gentleness he asked me to walk him to his car, which sat in a side street. I was indeed on my guard, but since he spoke to me in such a friendly way, as he had done when we first met, I didn’t want to deny his wishes and so followed along.

“I can drive you wherever you are going. Look, Dr. Landau, I perhaps got you all wrong and came on a bit too strong. You mustn’t be upset with me, for I meant well. That’s just the way I am, but you are also no hero. No one in the world understands you better than I do, not even your charming wife. Only a man can fully grasp you. I was once an idealist, even a great one, and I still have some of that in me. If I’m such a shit, how is it that I warmed to you so and took up your cause? Look, be reasonable for once! Walk straight to the next telephone booth and call up Scher or go right to Self-Help.”

“Why?”

We had reached the car. Konirsch-Lenz opened the door.

“Why?” he shouted. “Why? Have you gone mad?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Then you are a bum, a snotnosed kid! Then you are not worthy of having survived! Then you should have croaked like a brute animal instead of arriving like a vagabond in this country in order to live off others who have tirelessly tried to build a life for themselves here again, while you marry such a pitiful thing, bring a child into the world, then another and then let your family starve in the end!”

“How dare you!”

“Just get out of here, you … you …”

Konirsch-Lenz lifted his hand to curse me, but he could no longer find the words to do so. I also said nothing, but fended him off and spit on the ground. Then I turned around, without looking back, and walked swiftly away. Behind me I could hear him cursing continually, then at last he was in his car, myself hearing as well how he slammed the door, but I didn’t pay attention to the direction in which he drove off. I was indeed extremely upset, and yet relieved. I whistled with satisfaction as I rushed through the humming streets without a plan. I was overcome by a spiteful happiness, for now I was free of all asked-for or unasked-for recommendations, and for the first time since my arrival in the metropolis I was alone and together with Johanna. With one stroke, everything else had become unimportant, all that had occurred during the course of almost four years, the revilements and debasements no longer stinging, me answerable to no one else but Johanna and myself. Since my quarrel with Jolan Haarburger until my fight with Konirsch-Lenz, I had dealt with so many people whom I had either sought out or who had reached out to me. All of them had nagged me about my fortunes and recommended that I pull myself up by my bootstraps. Woe to the powerless man who wishes to stand his ground.…

Everything was different now. For Johanna, it was deeply disappointing that even her old bosses in the Office for Refugees and other influential people whose friendship she thought she had made through her job had denied her the least bit of help and often didn’t wish to speak to her. However, she still had a number of confidants who could not exert any influence in support of my situation or my work but who nonetheless were willing to help Johanna in any way they could. Thus we were able to survive, Johanna saving wherever she could and never missing an opportunity to do
some small bit of work. What unfolded was a way of life that I never had a full grasp of. I never asked Johanna, not even later, how she managed it all behind the scenes, nor about the few people she was connected to, nor did I even know all of them. All of it amounted to a realm that Johanna controlled entirely. Even if I saw a pleasant magic performed all around me, I was never particularly struck by it; almost everything happened behind my back, and that was all I knew.

Above all, there was Betty, Johanna’s second cousin, who used to be a teacher of geography and history but had been retrained, as the saying went, as a confectioner after her emigration from Vienna. She now had a little shop in South Wales where she sold chocolate wafers and other sweets, and did quite well for herself. Betty is a warm presence, always eager to help out and care for others, and is for us and the children a constant source of support. Every year we have a wonderful time visiting her in her little house, where she spoils us, Michael and Eva being her darlings whom she won over as much with her tireless patience with their games and jokes as through her sweet tidbits. Almost every month she sends us two little packages, containing not only tasty things meant for the children but also little clothes and shoes for the two of them and many other practical things for the two of us. Betty would never let Johanna pay for any of it, nor did she ever hold it against me when I ignored some of the well-intentioned advice she gave. That meant a lot to me, for relatives, especially, believe they have a right to expect that you will follow their advice or at least try to. If you don’t carry it out or you don’t even try to, usually you are met with the hatred of the one wishing to help, or, at a minimum, resentment, and are thus abandoned. Betty never let herself stoop to such a reaction. Thinking of her as I walked along the street, whistling, I didn’t believe that she would even resent the piteous collapse of my relationship with Konirsch-Lenz. She was too fair-minded to do that, and she loved people as people deserved to be loved. She didn’t seek the fulfillment of her hopes and efforts for the sake of herself but thought of her fellow men. Certainly it must have been hard for her when, once again, something fell through for me that she had set in motion, but I was never afraid that she would turn away from Johanna or me. Many years ago, Betty had been interested in teaching children and youths at risk, and had visited the Lenz School while on a study trip. There she met Konirsch-Lenz,
whose work she admired. Later, she learned by chance that he was in this country, which made her think of me, so she got hold of his address and wrote to him. This was how I was recommended to him, and now I had to think of what to say to Betty about it, or if it wouldn’t do to let Johanna handle it.