No More Learning

Getting caught and fired would have meant Death and Judgment Day as far as Rachel was concerned, ·so it was naturally a great nuisance to have to watch out for Soliman all the time, wherever she might be, nor did she like being suddenly pinched in the leg without daring to cry out whenever she passed some hiding place where he might be lying in wait for her. Still, the fact that somebody was taking terrible chances just to be attentive to her, to spy devotedly on her every step and put her character to the test under the most difficult circumstances, could hardly fail to make an impression. The little ape was rushing her quite needlessly and dangerously, and yet, against all her principles and at odds with her crumpled dreams of great things in store, she sometimes felt a guilty craving to make the most of this Mrican king's son whose thick lips were waiting at every tum to seiVe her, the seiVing maid, as ifmade for her alone.
One day, Soliman asked her right out if she was game. Amheim
had gone to the mountains with Diotima and some friends for two days and had left Soliman behind. It was the cook's day off, and Sec- tion Chief Tuzzi was taking his meals at a restaurant. Rachel had told Soliman about the cigarette stubs she had found in her room, and Diotima's unspoken question what would the little maid make of it was answered by Rachel's and Soliman's agreeing that something seemed to be afoot in the Council, something that called for the two of them to take some action of their own. When Soliman asked her if she was game, he announced that he meant to take the documents proving hls noble birth from where Arnheim had locked them up. Rachel did not believe in these documents, but life amid so many tempting mysteries had given her a craving for something to happen. They decided that she would keep on her maid's . cap and frilled apron when Soliman fetched her and took her to Arnheim's hotel, as ifshe had been sent on an errand there by her employers. When they stepped out on the street, such a smoldering heat rose up from be- hind the lacy bib of her apron that it almost blurred her vision, but Soliman boldly stopped a cab; he had plenty of money these days, when Arnheim was so often absentminded. This stiffened Rachel's spine too, and she stepped into the carriage in the sight of all the world as if·she were charged and employed to ride in style with little black boys. The midmorning streets, with the well-dressed idlers to whom they belonged, flew by, and again Rachel's heart was thump- ing as if she were a thief. She tried to lean back properly, as she had seen Diotima do, but could not keep her body from bouncing up and down in. the rich upholstery as the closed carriage rocked along, while Soliman took advantage of her reclining position to press the broad stamp pads ofhis lips on hers, risking their being seen through the windows, and a sensation like the simmering of some scented fluid poured from the billowing cushions into Rachel's back.
Nor was, the young Moor disposed to forgo the pomp of driving right up to the hotel entrance. The porters in their black silk sleeves and green aprons grinned when Rachel stepped out of the carriage, the doorman peered through the glass door as Soliman paid the fare, and Rachel felt as though the pavement were giving way under her feet. But when no one stopped them as they walked through the vast pillared lobby, she thought that Soliman must enjoy a certain status in the hotel. Again she flushed with embarrassment when she felt the
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eyes of some armchair loungers following her as she passed by, but going up the stairs, she saw many chambermaids dressed in black with their white caps, like herself, if not perhaps as smartly, and she began to feel quite like an explorer wandering over an unknown, pos- sibly dangerous island, who encounters human beings at last.
Then Rachel found herself for the first time in her life inside the rooms of a distinguished hotel. Soliman immediately locked all the doors and then felt called upon to kiss his little friend again. The kisses these two had been giving each other of late had something of the glow of a child's kiss, intended more for mutual reassurance than as any assault upon the moral. fiber, and even. now, when they were
. for the first time alone together in a locked room; Soliman's most pressing concern was to find even more romantic ways of hiding themselves away. He pulled down the blinds and stopped up all the keyholes giving on the corridor. Rachel was much too excited by all these preparations to think of anything other than her own daring and the disgrace of a possible discovery.
Next, Soliman led her to Arnheim's closets and trunks, all open except for one. This was clearly the one harboring the secret. He took the keys from all the open trunks and tried them one by one, with no success, while chattering nonstop, pouring out all his re- serves of camels, princes, mysterious couriers, and insinuations against Arnheim. He borrowed one of Rachel's hairpins and tried to pick the lock with it. When this failed him, he ripped all the keys from all the closet doors and drawers, spread them out between his knees as he squatted on the floor, and paused to brood over this col- lection, trying to think of a fresh expedient. "Now you can see how he hides things from mel" he said to Rachel, rubbing his forehead. "But I may as well show y6u everything else first. "
· And so he simply spread tha be'Wildering riches from Arnheim's trunks and closets out before Rachel, who was crouching on the floor, with her hands clasped between her knees, staring at these things with curiosity. The intimate wardrobe of a man accustomed to the choicest of luxUries was something she had never seen before. Her. own master was certainly not poorly dressed, but he had neither the money nor the need for the ultrasophisticated concoctions of the best tailors and shirtmakers, the creators of luxuries for home and travel. Even her mistress had nothing to compare with the exquisite
things, feminine in their delicacy and complicated in their uses, that belonged to this immensely rich man. Something of Rachel's original awe for the nabob came to life again, even as Soliman puffed himself up with pride in the stunning impression he was making on her as he dragged out everything, showing off all the gadgets and eagerly ex- plaining all the mysteries. Rachel was beginning to tire ofthe endless display, when she was suddenly struck by an odd coincidence. She realized that things of this kind had been cropping up lately among Diotima's lingerie andhousehold things. They were not as numerous or as expensive as Arnheim's, but compared to Diotima's former mo- nastic simplicity, they were certainly 'closer to what she was seeing here than to her austere past. Rachel was overcome by the outra- geous notion that the link between her mistress and Arnheim might be less spiritual than she had supposed.
She blushed to the roots of her hair.
Never since she had entered Oiotima's seiVice had her thoughts wandered into this area. Her eyes had gulped down the glory of her mistress's body without giving any thought to the possible uses of such beauties, like gulping down a powder with its paper envelope. Her satisfaction at being permitted to share the life of persons of such exalted station had been so great that in all this time Rachel, who was so easily seduced, had never thought of any man as a sexual being, but only as someone different in a romantic way, like in a novel. Her high-mindedness had made her a child again, transport- ing her, as it were, back to the stage before puberty, that time of selfless enthusiasms for the greatness of others. This was in fact how Rachel had come to swallow Soliman's tall stories so willingly, in such a trance of gullibility, that it made the cook laugh at her. But now, as Rachel crouched on the floor and saw the suggestive tokens of an adulterous union between Arnheim and Diotima spread out before her in broad daylight, a long-impending change took place inside her-the awakening from an unnatural state of exaltation into the
mistrustful state of the actual world of the flesh.
Gone in a flash was her romanticism; she was a down-to-earth lit-
tle body with a somewhat irritated nop. on that even a servant girl had some rights in life. Soliman was squatting beside her before his out- spread bazaar, having collected up all the things she had especially admired, and was trying to stuff into her pockets whatever was not
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too big, as presents from him. Now he leapt up and made another quick attack with a pocketknife on the locked trunk, while rattling on about having to get a lot of money from the bank before Arnheim returned, using his master's checkbook-in money matters the mad little devil had quite lost his innocence-so that he and Rachel could run away together, but not before. he had his papers.
Rachel abruptly stood up, firmly emptied her pockets of all the "presents" he had stuffed into them, and said, "Don't talk such non- sensei I have to go now. What time is it? '' Her voice sounded deeper. She smoothed her apron and adjusted her cap. Soliman instantly realized that she was through with playing the game, and that she was suddenly much older than he. But! before he could reassert him- self, Rachel was kissing him good-bye. This time her lips did not tremble but pressed hard into the luscious fruit of his face as she bent over him, forcing the boy's head back and keeping atit so long that he almost choked. Soliman struggled, and when she fmally let go he felt as if a taller, stronger boy had been ·holding him under water, so that his first impulse was to get even with her for an unfair trick played on him. But Rachel had slipped out the door, and the·look he sent after her-for that was all of him that caught up with. her-as inflamed as the red-hot tip of a burning arrow, gradually faded to a soft ash. Soliman then picked up his master's belongings from the floor to put them back in order; he had now turned into a young man who could look fmward to something that had ceased to be unattainable.
105
LOVE . ON THE HIGHEST LEVEL IS NO JOKE
Following their excursion to~the mountains, Amheim had gone abroad for longer than usual. "Gone abroad"-as he had come to think of it himself-was cert~y an odd expression to use, consider-
·ing that it should have been "gone home. " It was because of this and other such reasons that it was in fact becoming urgently necessary for him to come to a decision. He was haunted by unpleasant daydreams such as had never before entered his disciplined head. One espe- cially persistent one was ofseeing himselfstanding with Diotima on a tall church steeple, where they gazed briefly at the green landscape stretched far below and then jumped off. A vision of forcing his way unchivalrously into the Tuzzis' bedroom at night to shoot the Section Chief obviously came to the same thing. He could perhaps have cho- sen to finish him off in a duel, but this seemed less natural; the fan- tasy was already loaded down with too many realistic rituals, and the closer Amheim approached reality, the· more troublesome the in- crease ofinhibitions. Asking Tuzzi simply and openly for the hand of his wife in marriage was conceivable, but what would Tuzzi be likely to say to that? It simply meant opening oneself up to all sorts of ridi- cule. And even if Tuzzi were to be civilized about it and there was a minimum of scandal, or possibly no scandal at all, divorce having come to be tolerated even in the best circles, there was still the fact that an old bachelor always made himself a bit ridiculous by a late marriage, much like a couple having a baby for their silver wedding anniversary. And if Arnheim really had to do such a thing, he owed it to the firm to marry a prominent American widow at the very least, or a great lady of ancient lineage with connections at court, and not the divorced wife of a middle-class government official. He could not make a move, even if it were merely of a sensual nature, that was not permeated with responsibility. In a time like the present, when re- sponsibility for one's acts or thoughts plays so slight a role, it was by no means mere personal ambition that raised such objections, but a truly suprapersonal need to bring the power fostered by the Am- heims (a formation rooted in simple greed, which it had long since outgrown, however; it now had a mind of its own, a will of its own, it had to keep growing, to solidify its position, lest it sicken, lest it become rusted when it rested! ) into accord with the forces and hier- archies of life itself, nor had he ever knowingly made a secret of this to Diotima. An Amheim was ofcourse free to marry even some peas- ant if he chose, but free only as regarded his own person; he would
still be betraying a cause for a personal weakness.
It was nevertheless true that he had proposed marriage to Di-
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otima. He h~d done it, if only to forestall the kind of adulterous goings-on that do not consort well with the disciplined conduct oflife on a high level. Diotima had gratefully pressed his hand and, with a smile reminiscent of the fmest such smiles in the history of art, she had responded to his proposal with the words: "It is never those we embrace that we love most deeply. . . . "After this answer, as equivo- cal as the seductive yellow deep inside the chaste lily, Arnheim could never bring himself to go once more into the breach. Instead, they went in for general conversations in which the words "divorce," "marriage," "adultery," and the like showed a strange tendency to crop up. More than once, for instance, Arnheim and Diotima talked in depth about the treatment of adultery in contemporary literature, and Diotima felt that this problem was invariably handled without any appreciation for the great values of self-discipline, renunciation, or heroic self-denial, but purely from a sensual point of view. Arn- heim's view was precisely the same, unfortunately, so that he could only add that there was hardly anyone left these days capable of fully appreciating the deep moral mystery of the individual. This mystery consisted in having to keep a tight rein on the tendency to self-indul- gence. Historic periods of permissiveness have never failed, so far, in
· making all those who lived in them miserable. All discipline, absti- nence, chivalry, music, morality, poetry,Jorm, taboo, had no deeper purpose than to give the correct limits, a definite shape, to life. There is no such thing as boundless happiness. There is no great happiness without great taboos. Even in business, to pursue one's advantage at all costs is to risk getting nowhere. Keeping within one's limits is the secret of all phenomena, of power, happiness, faith, and the key to the task of maintaining oneself as a tiny human creature within the universe. Such was Amheim's statement of the case, and Diotima could not but agree. It was in a sense a regrettable consquence of such insights that they lent to legitimacy a richness of meaning that is no longer available to most people. But great souls cannot do without legitimacy. At peak moments of perception, one senses how the cos- mos turns on an axis ofvertical austerity. And the businessman, even as he rules the world, respects kingship, aristocracy, and the church as pillars of the irrational. The legitimate is simple, as all greatness is
-simple, open to anyone's understanding. Homer was simple, Christ was simple. The truly great minds always come down to simple bas-
ics;. one must have the courage to admit, in fact, that they always come back to moral commonplaces, which is why it is hardest of all for the truly free spirit to defy tradition.
Such insights, true as they are, are not much help to a man bent on intruding into someone else's marriage. So these two people found themselves in the position ofbeing linked by a splendid bridge with a hole at its center, just a few yards wide, so that they cannot come together. Arnheim was deeply sony that he had no spark of that de- sire which is the same, whatever its object, and as likely to catapult a man into a rash business deal as into a rash love affair; his regret moved him to talk at length about desire. According to him, desire was precisely the feeling that best corresponds to the merely intellec- tual culture of our era. No other feeling aims so unequivocally at its specific object. It strikes and sticks like an arrow, rather than swann- ing on into ever greater distances like a flock ofbirds. It impoverishes the soul, just like arithmetic and mechanics and brutality. In this fashion Arnheim spoke with disapproval of desire, even as he felt it struggling like a blinded slave in the cellar.
Diotima took a different tack. She held out her hand to him and beseeched him: "Let us say no more! Words can do much, but there are things beyond words. The real truth between two people cannot be put into words. The moment we speak, certain doors begin to close; language works best for what doesn't really matter; we talk in lieu ofliving. . . . "
Arnheim concurred. ''You're so right. The word, in its arrogance, gives ah arbitrary and impoverished form to the invisible movements of our inner being. "
"Say no more, please," Diotima repeated, laying a hand on his arm. "I feel that we give each other a moment of life when we are silent together. " After a while, she withdrew her hand again and sighed: "There are instants when all the hidden jewels of the soul lie revealed. "
"There may come a time," Arnheim complemented this,"-and there are many signs that it is near already-when souls will behold each other without the mediation of the senses. Souls come together when one pair of lips withdraws from the other. "
Diotima pursed her lips so that they suggested a crooked little tube such as butterflies dip into blossoms. She was totally besotted.
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Like all heightened states of emotion, love brings out a certain mad- ness about the supposed connectedness of things so that any words uttered tended to light up with richly ramifying significance, which manifested itself like a veiled deity before it dissolved in silence. Di- otima knew this phenomenon from her lonely hours of lofty medita- tion, but never before with this intensity to the very edge of barely endurable joy; she was brimming over with uncontrollable feeling, with something godlike inside her that moved as if on skates, and more than once she felt that she was about to crash down in a dead faint.
Arnheim buoyed her up with his great pronouncements. He gave her time to recover, to catch her breath. Then he again spread the safety net ofideal considerations beneath them.
The torment of this expansive joy was that it militated against con- centration. It kept emitting tremulous new waves that rippled out- ward in widening circles but never pressed together to form a current of action. Diotima had after all reached the point of regard- ing the risks ofan affair as the more considerate and civilized alterna- tive to the crude catastrophe of smashed lives, while Arnheim had long since opted morally against accepting such a ~acrifice and was ready to marry her. They could have each other, one way or another, at any moment, and they both knew it, but they did not know which form it should take, for their happiness swept their souls, made for it as they were, to such solemn heights that the fear of spoiling every- thing by some awkward move paralyzed them: a natural state ofanxi- ety for people with a cloud under their feet.
Their minds had never failed to drink in all the grandeur and beauty life had poured out for them, and yet, at its very apex, their joy was strangely curtailed. All the wishes and vanities that had nor- mally filled their lives now lay far beneath them, like toy houses and farmyards deep in the valley, with all the clucking, barking, and other excitements swallowed up in the stillness, leaving only the sense of silerit deep space.
"Can it be that we have a mission? " Diotima wondered, surveying the emotional pinnacle on which she found herselfwith a foreboding ofsome agonizing and unimaginable tum up ahead. Not only had she experienced lesser degrees of such exaltation herself, but even an emotional lightweight like her cousin had been known to speak of
such things, and much had been written about them of late. But if there was any truth to the reports, there were times, every thousand years or so, when the. soul was closer to an awakening than usual, hom into the real world, as it were, via certain individuals upon whom it imposes tests far beyond mere reading and talking. In this connection, even the inexplicable appearance on the scene of the uninvited General suddenly popped into her mind. And so she mur- mured to her friend, who was groping for new words as their agita- tion formed a trembling arc between them: "Two people can understand each other without always finding some rational formula for it. "
And Amheim responded, as his eye met hers straight as a ray from the sinking sun, "You're right. As you said before, the real truth be- tween two people cannot be put into words; every effort of that kind only creates a further obstacle between them. "
106
DOES MODERN MAN BELIEVE IN GOD OR IN THE HEAD OF THE WORLDWIDE CORPORA TION? ARNHEIM W A VERING
A,mheim alone. Deep in thought, he stands at the window of his hotel suite, gazing doWn on the leafless treetops, their bare branches forming a grille, beneath which the passersby, bright and dark, brushing against each other, form the two serpentine lines of the in- formal street parade that starts at this hour. A smile of annoyance parts the great man's lips.
Up to now he had never had any difficulty in defining what he con- sidered soulless. What was not soulless these days? It was easy enough to spot the rare exceptions, too. A far-off evening of chamber music came to mind, played by friends visiting his castle in Prussia, young musicians who were rather hard up, and yet whose spirited
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harmonies rang out on the evening air, amid the fragrance of the northern linden trees; that was soulful. Or to take another case: He had recently refused to go on paying an allowance to a certain artist. He had fully expected that the artist would be angry at him and feel he had been left in the lurch before he had been given a chance to make his reputation; he would have to be told that there were other artists in need of support and all that sort of thing, something Am- heim did not look forward to doing; Instead, this man, the next time he met Amheim, had merely looked hard into his eyes and then shaken his hand, saying: "You've left me in a tough spot, but I'm sure a man like you never does anything without a good reason. " Now, there was a manly soul, and Amheim was not disinclined to do some- thing for him again, some other time.
So there still was such a thing as soul in many instances, even these days. It had always been a point ofimportance to Amheim. But when one has to deal with it directly and unconditionally, a man's sincerity is put to a hard test. Was a time really coming when souls would be able to commune together without the mediation of the senses? Was there any purpose, of the same value and importance as the realistic aims of life, to be accomplished in communing together as he and this marvelous woman had been inwardly driven to do lately? While in his sober senses he never believed it for an instant, yet he was sure that he was encouraging Diotima to believe it.
Amheim was in a peculiar state of conflict. Moral wealth is closely related to the f'mancial kind; he was well aware ofit, and it is easy to understand. For morality replaces the soul with logic; once a soul is thoroughly moral, it no longer has any moral problems, only logical ones; it asks itself whether something it wants to do is governed by this commandment or that, whether its intention is to be understood one way or another, and so on, all ofwhich is like a wildly scrambling mob that has been whipped into shape by a gymnastics coach so that it responds to signals such as Right . tuql, Arms out, Bend knees, and so on. But logic presupposes repeatable experiences. In a vortex of events that never repeat themselves, we could obviously never for- mulate the profound insight that A equals A, or that the greater is not the lesser, but would be living in a kind of dream, a condition ab- horred by every thinker. And the same is true ofmorality: ifour acts were unrepeatable, then there would be nothing to be expected of
us, and a morality that could not tell people what was expected of them would be no fun at all. This quality of repetitiveness that in- heres in the workings of the mind and morality inheres also, and to the highest degree, in money. Money positively consists of this qual- ity. As long as it keeps its value, it carves up all the world's pleasures into those little building blocks ofpurchasing power that can then be combined into whatever one pleases. Money is accordingly both moral and rational; and since we all know that the converse is not the case, i. e. , not every moral and reasonable person has money, we may conclude that money is the original source of these qualities, or at least that money is the crowning reward of a moral and ratiqnallife.
Not that Arnheim of course thought precisely along the lines that education and religion were the natural consequence of wealth, but he did assume that wealth obliged its owner to have them, while lik- ing to point out that the spiritual powers did not always understand e~ough of the effective powers in life and were rarely quite free of certain traces of unworldliness. As a man with a large overview, he cameto all sorts ofconclusions beyond this too. Every act ofweigh- ing something, taking account ofit or measuring it, presupposes that the object in question will not change in the process; where such a change occurs nonetheless, the mind must be exerted to its utmost to find something unchangeable even within the change, and so money is akin to all the powers ofthe mind, serving as a model to the world's scientists for dividing up the world into atoms, laws, hypotheses, and curious mathematical symbols, and the technicians use all these fic- tions to build up a world of new things. All of this was as familiar to this owner ofa gigantic industrial complex, who. so thoroughly under- stood the nature of the forces at his disposal, as the moral assump- tions of the Bible are to the average reader of novels.
This inward need for the unequivocal, the repeatable, and the solid, upon which the success ofall thinking and planning depends- so Arnheim reflected as he stood gazing down on the street from his window-is always appeased by some form ofviolence. Anyone who wants to build on rock in dealing with human beings has to rely on the baser qualities and passions, for only what is most closely bound up with egotism endures and can always be counted on; the higher aims are unreliable, contradictory, and fleeting as the wind. The man who knew that empires would sooner or later have to be run just like
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factories gazed upon the swarms of uniforms and proud faces no big- ger than nits down there, with a smile that was a blend of superiority and sadness. There could be no doubt that if God returned this very day to set up the Millennium on earth, not a single practical, experi- enced man would take any stock in it unless the Last Judgment came fully equipped With a punitive apparatus of prison fortresses, police, armies, sedition laws, government departments, and whatever else was needed in order to rein in the incalculable potential of the human soul by relying on the two basic facts that the future tenant of heaven can be made to do what is needed only by intimidation and tightening the screws or else by bribery-in a word, by "strong measures. "
But then Paul Arnheim would step forward and. speak t~the Lordi "Lord, why bother?
Egotism is the most reliable factor in human life. It enables the politician, the soldier, the king, to keep order in the world by cunniiig and force. Mankind dances to its tune, as You and I must admit. To do away with force is to weaken the world order. Our task is to make man capable of greatness, although he is a mongrel cur! " So saying, Arnheim would smile modestly at the Lord, with composure, in token of the importance for every man of recognizing the great mysteries, in all humility. And then he would continue his address as follows: "But money is surely just as safe a means of man- aging human relationships as physical force, the crude uses ofwhich it allows (J. s to discontinue; Money is power in the abstract, a pliant, highly developed, and creative form, a unique form, of power. Isn't business really based on cunning and force, on outwitting and ex- ploiting others, except that in business, cunning and force have become wholly civilized, internalized in fact, so that they are actually clothed in the guise of man's liberty? Capitalism, as the organization of egotism based on a hierarchy in which one's rank depends on one's capacity for getting money, is simply the greatest and yet the most humane order we have been able to devise, to Your everlasting glory. There is no more precise measure than this for all human action. "
And so Arnheim would have advised the Lord to organize the Mil- lennium on business principles and entrust its administration to a leading businessman; a man, it went without saying, who would also have the mental capacities of a philosopher. After all, religion
unaided had always got the worst of it in this world, and compared with the insecurity of its existence in times of armed power struggles, there was much to be gained for it under a business administration.
So Arnheim would have spoken, for a deep inner voice told him distinctly that money was as indispensable as reason and morality. But another, equally deep inner voice told him just as sharply that a man must dare to jettison reason, morality, and the whole of his ra- tionalized existence without a backward glance. At those dizzy mo- ments when he felt no greater urge than to plunge, like some errant meteor, into the blazing solar mass that was Diotima, this voice was almost the more powerful. At such times the wild proliferation of his thoughts seemed to him as alien and extraneous as the self-impelled growth of nails and hair. The moral life then looked dead, and a se- cret aversion to morality and order made him blush. Amheim was suffering the fate of his whole era. This era worships money, order, knowledge, calculation, measures and weights-the spirit of money and everything related to it, in short-but also deplores all that. Even as it goes on hammering and calculating during working hours, and at all other times carries on like a horde of children driven from one excess to another by the challenge What's next? with its bitter, sick- ening aftertaste, it cannot shake off an inward warning to repent. It deals with this conflict by a division of labor, assigning to certain in- tellectuals, the confessers and confessors of their period, dealers in absolutions and indulgences, literary Savonarolas and evangelists, whose presence is the most reassuring to those not personally in a position to live up to their precepts, the task of recording all such premonitions and inward lamentations. Of course, all the lip service and government funds dropped annually by the State into their bot- tomless cultural schemes are much the same kind of moral ransom money.
This functional split manifested itself inside Arnheim himself as well. Sitting at one of this executive desks checking sales figures, he would have been ashamed to think otherwise than as a businessman and technician; but once it was no longer the firm's money that was involved, he would have been ashamed not to think otherwise, not to insist that mankind must be made capable of self-improvement by some other means than pursuit of the chimera of going by the book, regulations, orders, norms, and all that, with results so devoid of in-
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ward meaning and so ephemeral. This Other Way was unquestion- ably what is called religion, and he had written books about it, in which he had also called it myth, the return to simplicity, the realm . of the soul, the spiritualization of the economy, the nature of action, and so on, because it had many aspects, as many, to be specific, as he found in himself when he was selflessly analyzing himself, as a man must do when facing the prospect of great tasks. But it seemed to be fated that this functional split should fail him in the hour of decision. At the very moment when he longed to entrust himself to the flame of his passion, or had the urge to be as great and singlehearted as the heroic figures of old, as untrammeled as only the true aristocrat can be, as wholly religious as the quintessential nature of love demands; at the very moment, in short, when he yearned to fling himself at Diotima's feet without regard to the crease of his trousers or his fu- ture, an inner voice held him back. It was the untimely voice of rea- son or, as he irritably told himself, the instinct for calculating and hoarding that nowadays stands everywhere in the way of life on the grand scale, the dream ofecstasy. He hated this voice even as he was forced to acknowledge its validity. For, assuming that there was a honeymoon, what form would life with Diotima take after that hon- eymoon? He would 'return to his business affairs, and they would cope with the other tasks of a lifetime together. The year would alter- nate between financial operations and recuperation in the arms of nature, in the animal and vegetative part ofone's own being. It might even tum into a great, truly humanistic marriage of action and repose, of human need and beauty. That would be fine; it was doubt- less what he vaguely had in mind as a goal. Amheim believed that no one could muster the strength for great financial operations who was incapable of letting go entirely, of abandoning himself altogether,
beyond all desire, far from the madding crowd, with only a loincloth to cover his nakedness, as it were. Still, Amheim was 6. lled with some savage wordless state of satisfaction, because all this was the opposite of what he felt first and last for Diotima. Every time he laid eyes on this Classical beauty with those modem rounded curves, he was thrown into confusion, felt his strength melting away, unequal to his· need to absorb into his own inner being this poised, self-sufficient cre. ature so serenely moving in her own orbit. There was nothing loft- ily humane about this feeling, nothing even merely humane. It was a
taste of the whole cosmic void of eternity. He stared at the beauty of his beloved with a gaze that seem~d to have been seeking her for a thousand ye~s and now, having found her, was suddenly unem- ployed, helpless in a kind ofstupor, an almost idiotic amazement. So excessive a demand on emotion left it nearly incapable of respond- ing; it c~rrespondedto nothing so much as a longing for both ofthem to be shot together from a cannon into intergalactic space!
The tactful Diotima found the right words again even for this con- dition. In one such moment she recalled that even in his day the great Dostoyevsky had noted a connection between love, idiocy, and inner holiness. But people of our own time, lacking the supportive presence of a devout Russia at their shoulders, probably needed a special dispensation to live by such an idea.
Her words might have come straight from Amheim's heart.
The moment when they were spoken was one of those times en- gaged with both self-awareness and object awareness, like a stopped- up trumpet that refuses to emit a sound no matter how hard one blows iiito it, bringing all the blood to one's head; everything in it was charged with significance, from the tiniest cup on a shelf asserting its presence in the room like one of van Gogh's objects, to the humari bodies, swollen and supercharged by the unutterable, which seemed to press into space. ·
Startled by her own words, Diotima said: "I wish we could just talk in fun. Humor is so wonderful; it floats free beyond desire, com- pletely unconcerned with appearances. "
Amheim smiled at this. He had risen from his chair and started to pace the room. What if I tore her to pieces, he wondered, if I started to roar and qance, if I reached down my throat to tear out my heart for her; could I make a miracle happen? But as he cooled down, he came to a stop.
It was this scene that had just come vividly to mind. His glance again rested icily on the street below. It really would take some sort ofredemptive miracle, he thought, the world would have to be popu- lated by a new breed of men, before one could begin to think of put- ting such thoughts into practice. He dropped the effort of determining how and from what the world was to be redeemed; in any case, everything would have had to be different from the way it was. He went back to his desk, which he had abandoned halfan hour
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since, back to his letters and telegrams, and rang for Soliman to fetch his secretary.
A5 he awaited the secretary's'arrival, already engaged in formulat- ing the first sentences of a statement for dictation on economic con- ditions, the remembered experience crystallized into a beautiful, richly significant moral form. After all, Amheim said to. himself firmly, a man who is aware of his responsibilities, even when giving his soul away, sacrifices only the interest, never the capital.
COUNT LEINSDORF ACHIEVES AN UNEXPECTED POLITICAL SUCGESS
When His Grace spoke of a European family of nations that was to throng joyfully around the venerable Emperor Patriarch, he always tacitly excluded Prussia. Perhaps he was now doing it with more feel- ing than ever, for Count Leinsdorf was undeniably bothered by his awareness of Dr. Amheim; every time he arrived at his friend Di- otima's he would find either the man himself or traces of his recent presence, and he knew no more than Section Chief Tuzzi what to make of it. A5 for Diotima, every time she turned her soulful gaze on him, she noticed as never before the swollen veins on_ His Grace's hands and neck and the faded-tobacco colored skin from which ema- nated the characteristic smell of an aging man. Even though she never failed to treat the great nobleman with all due reverence, something had gone out of her radiance toward him, something like the change from a summer sun to a winter sun. Count Leinsdorf was not given to fantasies or to music, but ever since Dr. Amheim had become so persistent a presence it was strange how often he had a faint ringing in his ears, like the kettledrums and cymbals of an Aus- trian military march, or a visual sensation, whenever he closed his eyes, of a great billowing of black-and-yellow flags, vast numbers of
them, in motion. Similar patriotic hallucinations seemed to be afflict- ing other friends ofthe Tuzzis' as well. At least, though Germany was always spoken ofwith the utmost respect whenever he happened to be within earshot, if he· ever dropped a hint that the great patriotic project might eventually take on a certain pointedness against the brother empire, this respect was irradiated with a heartfelt smile.
His Grace had apparently stumbled upon an important phenome- non within his special field of interest. There are certain family feel- ings of a special intensity, and one of these was the widespread dislike of Germany among the European family of states before 1914. Perhaps Germany was spiritually the least unified country, so that everyone could find something there to suit his own distaste; its early culture had been the first to fall under the wheels of the new era, to be shredded into high-flown slogans for the promotion of the bogus and the commercial; it was also grasping, aggressive, full of bluster, and dangerously irresponsible, like every great mass in fer- ment-but all this was ultimately merely European, and might at most have seemed ·ali-too-European to the Europeans. The world apparently needs its negative entities, images of the unwanted, which attract to themselves all the disgust and disharmony, all the slag of a smoldering fire, such as life tends to leave behind. Out of all that "could be" there suddenly crystallizes, to the stunned. amaze- ment of everyone concerned, the "it is," and whatever drops away during this disorderly process, whatever is unsuitable, superfluous, unsatisfying, seems to coagulate into the vibrant universal hatred agi- tating all living creatures that is apparently so . characteristic of our present civilization, which compensates for all our lack of satisfaction with ourselves by allowing us to feel that easy dissatisfaction so read- ily inspired by everyone else. Trying to isolate specific scapegoats for this displeasure is merely part of the oldest psychotechnical bag of tricks known to man. Just as the medicine man drew the carefully prepared fetish from his patient's body, the good Christian projects his own faults onto the good Jew, whom he accuses of seducing him into committing advertisements, high interest rates, newspapers, and all that sort of thing. In the course of time people ha:ve blamed their troubles on bad weather, witches, socialists, intellectuals, generals, and in the years before the Great War, Austrians saw a most wel- come scapegoat of this sort in Prussian Germany. Unfortunately, the
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world has lost not only God but the Devil as well. As it projects its unwanted evil onto the scapegoat, so it projects its desired good onto ad hoc ideal figures, which it rev~res for doing what it finds inconve- ment to do for itself. We let others perform the hard tricks as we. watch from our seats: that is sport. W e let others talk themselves into the most one-sided exaggerations: that's idealism. We shake off evil and make those who are spattered by it our scapegoats. It is one way ofcreating an order in the world, but this technique ofhagiolatry and fattening the scapegoats by projection is not without danger, because it fills the world with all the tensions of unresolved inner conflicts. People alternately kill each other or swear eternal brotherhood with- out quite knowing just how real any of it is, because they have pro- jected part ofthemselves onto the outerworld, and everything seems to be happening partly out there in reality and partly behind the scenes, so that we have an illusory fencing match between love and hate. The ancient belief in demons, which made heavenly-hellish spirits responsible for all the good and bad that came one's way, worked much better, more accurately, more tidily, and we can only hope that, as we advance in psychotechnology, we shall make our way back to it.
Kakania was a country exceptionally well qualified for this game with living symbols ofwhat was Wanted or Unwanted; life in Kakania had a certain unreality anyway, so that the most cultivated persons, who regarded themselves as the heirs and standard-bearers of the celebrated Kakanian culture from Beethoven to LehW",. felt it was quite natural to think of the Germans of the Reich as allies and brothers even while cordially detesting them. Seeing them get their occasional comeuppance did not upset anyone here, while their suc- cesses always left one a bit concerned about affairs at home. Affairs at home mostly meant th'at Kakania, a country that had originally been as good as any ·and sometimes better than most, had in the course of the centuries somewhat lost interest in itself. Several times in the course of the Parallel Campaign it could be perceived that world history is made up much as all other stories are-i. e. , the au- thors seldom come up with anything really new and are rathengiven to copying each other's plots and ideas. But there is also something
else involved which has not yet been mentioned, and that is the de- light in storytelling itself; it takes the shape ofthat conviction so com-
mon to authors that they are working on a good story, that passion of authorship that lengthens an author's ears and makes them glow, so that all criticism simply melts away. Count Leinsdorfhad this convic- tion and this passion, and so did some of his friends, but it had been lost in the farther reaches of Kakania, where the search for a substi- tute had been under way for the longest time now. There the history of Kakania had been replaced by that of the nation; the authors were at work on it even now, formulating it in that European taste that finds historical novels and costume dramas edifying. This resulted in a situation not yet perhaps sufficiently appreciated, which was that persons who had to deal with some commonplace problem such as building a school or appointing astationmaster found themselves dis- cussing this in connection . with the year 16oo or 400, arguing about which candidate was preferable in the light ofwhat settlements arose in the Lower Alps during the great Gothic or Slavic migrations, and about battles fought during the Counter-Reformation, and injecting into all this talk the notions of high-mindedness and rascality, home- Jand, truth, and maiiliness, and so on, which more or less corre- sponded to the sort of stuff the, majority were currently reading. Count Leinsdorf, who attached no importance to literature, never ceased to wonder at this circumstance, especially considering how well off, basically, he found all the peasants, artisans, and townsfolk he encountered on his trips through the countryside to visit his Bo- hemian estates settled by generations of Germans and Czechs. He blamed it on some special virus, the detestable work of agitators, that there would be these sudden outbursts of violent dissatisfaction with each other and with the wisdom of the goyernment, which were all the more puzzling in that these people got on so peacefully and con- tentedly with everyone in the long intervals between such fits, when nothing happened to remind them of. their ideals.
The government's policy, that well-known Kakanian policy for dealing With national minorities, was one of alternating, every six months or so, between taking a punitive line against some mutinous minority and then again wisely giving ground to it; just as the fluid in aU-tube rises on one side when it sinks on the other, so government policy fluctuated vis-a-vis the German minority. This minority played a special part in Kakania, since it tended on the whole to want just one thing: that the State should be powerful. It had clung longer than
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any other minority to the beliefthat the history ofKakania must have some meaning, and it was only after it gradually caught on to the fact that in Kakania a man could begin as a traitor and end as a cabinet minister, and could then continue his ministerial career by going in for high treason, that it, too, began to regard itself as an oppressed nationality. It may be that this sort of thing was going on elsewhere too, but in Kakania it needed no revolutions or other upheavals to produce this effect, because here it came about of its own accord, naturally, like the quiet swinging of a pendulum from side to side, simply by virtue of the general vagueness of the ideas involved, until in the end there was nothing left in Kakania except oppressed na- tionalities, the• oppressors being represented by a supreme circle of personages who saw themselves as being constantly baited and plagued by the oppressed. In this high circle people were deeply troubled because nothing was happening, troubled by an absence of history, so to speak, and a strong feeling that something must be done at long last. And if this meant turning against Germany, as the Parallel Campaign seemed inclined to do, it was not an altogether unwelcome eventuality; ftrst of all,,because there was that feeling of always being put in the shade by the brothers in the Reich, and sec- ond, because persons in government circles were themselves Ger- mans, so there was actually no better way for them to demonstrate Kakania's impartiality than by joining in such a selfless gesture.
It was therefore entirely understandable that in these circum- stances nothing could be farther from His Grace's mind than any suspicion that his undertaking was Pan-Germanic. But that it was so regarded could be deduced from the gradual disappearance of the Slavic groups from among the "officially rec;ognized minorities" whose claims. should command the attention of the Parallel Cam- paign committees, and the foreign envoys came to hear such terrible reports about Amheim, Tuzzi, and a German plot against the Slavic element that some of all this even reached His Grace's ears in the muted form of rumor, confirming his fears that even on those days when nothing special was happening one had to be hard at work to make sure that so many things that were not supposed to happen did not happen. But being a practical politician, he was now slow to make his countermove, though in so doing he unfortunately acted on such a magnanimous calculation that it looked at first like an error in
statesmanship. As the Propaganda Committee, in charge of popular- izing the Parallel Campaign, did not yet have a chairman, Count Leinsdorf decided· to choose Baron Wisnieczky for the post, in spe- cial consideration of the fact that Wisnieczky had some years before been a member of a cabinet brought down by the German nationalist parties on suspicion that it was carrying out an insidious anti-German policy. His Grace was in this instance following a scheme ofhis own. From the very start of the Parallel Campaign it had been one of his ideas to win over precisely those of the German Kakanians who felt less allegiance to their own country than to the German nation. How- ever much the other "ethnic" elements might refer t~Kakania as a prison, and however publicly they avowed their love for France, Italy, or Russia, no serious politician could ever put such quasi-exotic predilections on a level with the predilection of certain German Kakanians for the German Reich, which held Kakania in a geo- graphic stranglehold and had been one with it historically until a mere generation ago. · It was to these German apostates, whose in- trigues hurt Count Leinsdorf most because he was German himself, that he had been referring when he pronounced his well-known dic- tum: "They'll come along of their own accord! " This dictum had meanwhile attained the rank of a political prophecy in which much confidence was placed by members of the patriotic campaign, signi- fying more or less that once the other ethnic groups had been won over to patriotism, the German elements would feel constrained to join in, for as everyone knows, it is much harder to hold aloof from something everyone else is doing than to refuse to be first in line. Therefore the way to get the Germans in was to move against them by favoring the other nationalities. Count Leinsdorf had kllown this for· quite a while, and now that the time had come to act, he carried it through and placed Baron Wisnieczky, who was a Pole by birth but a Kakanian by conviction, at the head of the Propaganda Committee.
It would be hard to say whether His Grace was aware that this choice was an affront to the German cause, as his critics later said; the chances are that he thought he was serving the true German in- terest in this fashion. But the immediate consequence of his move was that the Parallel Campaign was now being intensely attacked in German circles as well, so that it ended up being regarded on the one side as an anti-German plot and being openly resisted as such, while
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on the other side it had long been regarded as pro-German and had therefore been avoided, with diplomatic excuses, from the outset. The unexpected effect did not escape His Grace's attention, of course, and was a matter of intense concern everywhere. This fur- ther tribulation only stiffened Count Leinsdorf's resolve, however, and when Diotima and other leading figures anxious. ly questioned him about it, time after time, he turned an impenetrable but deter- mined face toward such feeble-spirited creatures and said: "This move has not met with immediate success, I know, but you cannot let a great aim depend on whether or not you achieve instant success with any measure along the way. ; meanwhile we have achieved a more widespread interest in the Parallel Campaign, and the rest will fall into place if we simply hold firm. "
108
THE UNREDEEMED NA TIONALITIES AND , GENERAL STUMM'S REFLECTIONS ABOUT THE
TERMINOLOGY OF REDEMPTION
No matter how many words are spoken at every moment in a great city to express the personal concerns of its inhabitants, there is one word that is never among them: "redeem. " All other words, from the most impassioned to the most discriminating, even those dealing with extre~e sitUations, may be assumed to be heard more than once, whether shouted or whispered, expressions such as, for in- stance: "You're the worst crook that ever lived" or "No other woman could be as beautiful as you," so that these most personal sentiments could in fact be charted in sweeping statistical. curves representing their ma$S distribution throughout the city. But no living man ever says to another: "You can redeem me" or "Be my redeemer. " He can be tied to a tree and left to starve, or marooned on a desert island with the woman he had been courting in vain for months, or rescued
from being jailed for forging checks, and every word in the dictionaty may come pouring from his lips, but as long as he is experiencing real emotion he will never utter the words "redeem," "redeemer," or "re- demption," even though these are perfectly acceptable terms ~ such.
And yet the peoples united under the Crown of Kakania called themselves Unredeemed Nations.
General Stumm von Bordwehr was thinking about it. In his posi- tion at the War Office, he had ample knowledge of Kakania's prob- lems with nationalism, because the militaty were the ·first to feel the effects, at the budget hearings, of the seesawing policies resulting from the hundreds of conflicting considerations by which the State was hamstrung. Only a little while ago an urgent money bill had had to be withdrawn, to the War Minister's white fury, because an Un- redeemed Nationality had demanded in return for its support such concessions as the government could not possibly make without dan- gerously arousing the·yearning for redemption ofother nationalities. So Kakania was left naked to its enemies, as the budgetruy outlay had been proposed to replace the army's hopelessly obsolete guns- whose range could be compared with the guns of other powers as a knife compares with a spear-with new guns that would be as a spear to a knife compared with those of the other powers. This necessruy purchase had now once again been prevented, for who knew how long. To say that this setback made General Stumm consider suicide would be going too far, but a deep depression is sometimes heralded by any number of random, trivial symptoms, and Stumm's brooding over the redeemed and the unredeemed was certainly connected with Kakania's defenseless, disarmed state-to which it was con- demned by its intolerable domestic squabbles-the more so because in his semi-civilian status at Diotima's he had been hearing about re- demption until he was sick and tired of it.
His first reaction was that the term was one of those verbal infla- tions not yet classified by linguistic science. So his common sense as a soldier told him, but apart from the fact that his sound instinct had already been disoriented by Diotima-it was after all from her lips that Stumm had heard the word "redemption" for the first time and had been charmed by it, and even today, in spite of the failed artillery bill, the word when uttered by Diotima was still enveloped in a kind
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of magic, so that the General's first reaction could really more prop- erly be described as the second of his life! And there was another reason why the theory ofverbal inflation didn't seem to hold water: it was only necessary to salt the individual units ofthe word group "re-
. demption" with a small, innocent lack of gravity, and they instantly came trippingly from the tongue. "You've just saved my soul! " or some such; who has not said something of the sort at one time or another, provided of course that it refers to nothing more than the relief after a ten-minute wait or some equally slight inconvenience that has been brought to an end. Now the General realized that it was not so much the words that offended a healthy common sense as their absurd claim to being taken literally. When Stumm asked him- selfwhere he had ever come across such talk of redemption or salva- tion, other than at Diotima's or in politics, he realized that it had been in churches or cafes, in art journals, and in the books of Dr. Arnheim, which he had read with admiration. He now realized that such words refer not to a simple, natural human occurrence but to something abstract, some general complication or other; to redeem and to yearn for redemption is definitely a spiritual transaction.
The General nodded with amazement at the fascinating insights this special duty of his seemed to be bringing him. He switched on the red light over his office door as a signal that he was in conference,
·. and while his officers who came bearing files in their arms turned back from his door with a sigh, he went on with his speculations: The intellectual types he kept running into nowadays wherever he went were chronically dissatisfied, finding fault because there was either too little or too much being done about this or that; to hear them tell it, nothing ever seemed to go as it should. He was becoming quite fed up with them. They were in a class with those miserable speci- mens susceptible to cold who always find themselves sitting in a draft. When they were not complaining about the preponderance of scientific attitudes, they were excoriating illiteracy, general boorish- ness or general overrefinement, fanaticism or indifference: which-
. ever way they turned, they found something wrong. Their minds never came to rest, but were fixated on the ceaseless wanderings of that residual element in things. that never finds its proper place any- where. So they ended up convinced that their era was. fated to be a spiritual wasteland that could be redeemed only by some special
event or some very special personage. It was among the so-called in- tellectuals that the word "redemption" and its kin came into vogue at this time. They did not see how things could go on unless a messiah came quickly. Depending on circumstances, he would be a medical messiah who would redeem the art of healing from the specialized research teams that pursued their experiments while human beings sickened and died around them, or a messianic poet capable ofwrit-. ing a drama that would sweep millions of people into the theaters despite its ineffable sublimity; besides the belief that every kind of human endeavor needed a messiah to restore it to its pristine pur- pose, there was of course also the simple and unadulterated longing for a leader sent to put everything to rights with his strong right arm. The age before the Great War was a messianic age, and the fact that entire nations wanted to be redeemed in a lump was really nothing special or unusual for its time.
Not that the General regarded this as something to be taken any more literally than anything else people were saying. "If the Re- deemer were to come again today," he said to himself, "they would bring down his Government just like any other. " Judging by his own personal experience, he supposed that this came of too many people writing too many books and· newspaper articles. "How wise of the army to forbid officers to write books without special permission," he thought, and was startled to feel a hot wave of loyalty for the first time in ages. He was obviously starting to think too muchlit all came of keeping company with the civilian mind, which had evidently lost the advantage of having a firm perspective on the world. The Gen- eral saw this clearly now, and it enabled him to understand all that palaver about redemption from yet another angle. The General's mind strayed back to distant memories of his classes in religion and history for support along this new line of thought, and if his welter of
ideas could have been lifted bodily out of his head and ironed out, it would have looked more or less as follows: T9 begin briefly with the ecclesiastical aspect of things, as long as one believed in religion, one could defenestrate a good Christian or a pious Jew from any story in the castle ofhope or prosperity, and he would always land on his spir- itual feet, as it were, because all religions included in their view of life an irrational, incalculable element they called God's inscrutable will. Whenever a man could not make sense of things, he merely had
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to remember this rogue element in the equation, and his spirit could rub its hands with satisfaction, as it were. This falling on one's feet and rubbing one's hands is called having a working philosophy oflife, and this is what modem man has lost. He must either give up think- ing about his life altogether, which is what many people are quite content to do, or else he finds himself strangely tom between having to think and ye_t never quite seeming to arrive at a satisfactory resolu- tion of his problems. This conflict has in the course of history taken on the form of a total skepticism as often as it has that of a renewed subjection to faith, and its most prevalent form today is probably the conviction that-without a spiritual dimension there can be no human life worthy of the name, but with too much of it there can be none either. It is on this conviction that our civilization as a whole is based. It takes great care to provide for education and research, but never too well, only enough money to keep education and research prop- erly subordinated to the great sums expended on entertainment, cars, and guns. It clears the way for talent but sees to it that it should be a talent for business. Every idea is given due recognition, after some resistance, but this always works out so as to benefit equally the opposite idea. It looks like some tremendous weakness and careless- ness, but it is probably also a quite deliberate effort to put the spiri- tual dimension in its place, for if any one of the ideas that motivate our lives were ever carried out seriously, so seriously that nothing would be left of its opposite, then our civilization would hardly be our civilization.
The General had a pudgy little baby fist; he clenched "it and whacked the top ofhis desk with it as ifit were a padded glove; a man had to have a strong fist. As an officer, he knew what to think! The irrational element was known as honor, obedience, the Supreme Commander in Chief, Part III ofthe Service Regulations, and to sum it all up, the conviction that war is nothing but the continuation of peace by stronger measures, a forceful kind of order, without which the world cannot survive. The gesture with which the General had thumped his desk would have been slightly ludicrous if a· fist were not as much a spiritual manifestation as an athletic one, a kind of indispensable extension of the mind. Stumm von Bordwehr was a bit fed up with the whole civilian nexus. · He had discovered that library attendants were the·only people left who had a sound general over-
view of the civilian mind. He had hit upon the paradox of excessive order, the perfection ofwhich inevitably brought inaction in its train. He had a funny feeling, something like an insight into why it was the army where the greatest order was to be found at the same time as the greatest readiness to lay down one's life. For some indefinable reason, order seems to bring on bloodshed! This worried him, and he decided that he must not go on working at such pressure. Anyway, he wondered mutinously, what is this spiritual dimension? It doesn't walk around in a bedsheet at midnight, so what can it be but a certain order we impose on our impressions and experiences? But in that case, he concluded firmly, on a happy inspiration, ifthe spirit is noth- ing more than the order of our experience, then in a properly or- dered world we don't need it at all!
With a sigh of relief, Stumm von Bordwehr switched off the "in conference" light outside his door, stepped up to the mirror, and smoothed his hair down, in order to efface all signs of emotional stress before his subordinates came in.