In the life of many others, this sister is adolescent timidity and loneliness, an invented doppelganger full of shadowboxing chann, which softens the anxieties of
loneliness
in the tenderness of a lonely togetherness.
Musil - Man Without Qualities - v2
"
They lay on their stomachs on the ground, next to each other. If they raised their heads, they saw the street; if they didn't, they saw between pointed young blades of grass the drying fallen leaves from the high tree.
Agathe asked: "So that's why it's love your neighbor 'as yourself'? It could also be the other way around: Love yourself as your neighbor. "
"Yes. And it's easier to love him not only less than oneself but also more. What's almost impossible is to love him and yourself in the same way. Compared with that, loving someone so much that you sacrifice yourself for him is positively a relief," Ulrich replied. For the moment, the conversation had taken on the playful tone that deftly stirred up pro- found questions, a tone to which they had become accustomed during their walks through the city; but really-and although since then noth- ing that could be counted as time had passed-they were deliberately imitating themselves, the way one casually immerses oneself again in a game one has outgrown. And Agathe remarked: "So then love your neighbor as yourself also means: don't love your neighbor selflessly! "
"Actually, yes," Ulrich conceded. And without agreeing with her inci- dental arguments against selfless goodness, which in male human form were courting her soul, he added: "That's even quite important. For the people who talk ofselfless goodness are teaching something that's better than selfishness and less than goodness. "
And Agathe asked: "But when you fall in love the usual way, doesn't that inevitably involve desire and selflessness? "
"Y es. "
"And it really can't be said of self-love either that one desires oneself, or that one loves oneself selflessly? "
"No," Ulrich said.
"Then what's called self-love may not be any kind of love at all? " Agathe hazarded.
"That's as you take it," her brother replied. "It's more a confiding in oneself, an instinctive caring for oneself-"
From the Posthunwus Papers · 1393
"Self-toleration! " Agathe said, quite deliberately making a dissatisfied and slightly disgusted face, although she did not exactly know why.
"Why are we talking about it at all? " Ulrich intexjected.
"But we're talking about others! " Agathe answered, and laughter at her brother and herselflit up her face. She had again directed her glance at the fence, drawing her brother's after her; and because their eyes were not focused on a specific distance, the host of vehicles and pedes- trians swam past it. "Where shall we begin? " she asked, as if the rest were understood as a matter of course.
"You can't just do it on command! " Ulrich objected.
"No. But we can try to just feel everything in some such way; and we can enbust ourselves to it more and more! "
"That has to happen of itself. "
"Let's help it along! " Agathe proposed. "For instance, let's stop talk- ing and do nothing but look at them! "
"That's all right with me," Ulrich agreed.
For a short time they were silent; then something else occurred to Agathe: "To love something in the ordinary sense means to prefer it to something else: so we must try to love one person and at the same time prevent ourselves from preferring him to others," she whispered.
"Keep quiet! You have to be quiet! " Ulrich fended her off.
Now they gazed out for a while again. But soon Agathe propped her- self up on her elbow and looked despairingly at her brother. "It's not working! As soon as I tried it, the people outside became like a river full of pale fish. We're dreadful idlers! " she complained.
Ulrich turned toward her, laughing. "You're forgetting that striving for bliss isn't work! "
''I've never done anything in my whole life; now I'd like something to happen! Let's do something good to someone! " Agathe pleaded.
"Even doing good is a notion that doesn't occur at all in real goodness. It's only when the waves break that the ocean disintegrates into drop- lets! " Ulrich countered. "And what would it mean anyway to do some- thing good in a situation in which you can't do anything but good? " The anticipation, the headiness ofa feeling ofvictory, the confidence ofpow- ers that were for the moment at rest, allowed him to be playful with his seriousness.
"So you don't want to do anything? " Agathe asked coolly.
"Of course I do! But the kingdom oflove is in every respect the great antireality. That's why the first thing you have to do is cut the arms and legs off your emotions; and then we'll see what can happen in spite of that! "
1394 · THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
"You make it sound like a machine," Agathe chided.
"You have to undertake it as a good experimenter," Ulrich contra- dicted her, unmoved. "You have to try to circumscribe the decisive part. "
Agathe now offered serious resistance. 'We're not concluding some scientific investigation but, ifyou'll permit the expression, opening our hearts," she said with somewhat sarcastic sharpness. "And also the point we'd have to start from has not been exactly new for some time, since the Gospels! Exclude hatred, resistance, strife from yourself; just don't be- lieve that they exist! Don't blame, don't get angry, don't hold people re- sponsible, don't defend yourself against anything! Don't struggle anymore; don't think or bargain; forget and unlearn denial! In this way fill every crack, every fissure, between you and them; love, fear, beg, and walk with them; and take everything that happens in time and space, whatever comes and goes, whatever is beautiful or disturbing, not as re- ality but as a word and metaphor of the Lord. That's how we should go to meet them! "
As usually happened, during this long and passionate and unusually resolute speech her face had taken on a deeper hue. "Splendid! Every word a letter in a great scripture! " Ulrich exclaimed appreciatively. "And we, too, will have to gain courage. But such courage? Is that what you really want? "
Agathe subdued her zeal and denied it mutely and honestly. "Not en- tirely! " she added by way of explanation, so as not to deny it too much.
"It is the teaching of Him who advised us to offer our left cheek ifwe have been struck on the right one. And that's probably the mildest trans- gression that ever was," Ulrich went on reflectively. "But don't misun- derstand one thing, that this message too, if carried out, is a psychological exercise! A particular behavior and a particular group of ideas and emotions are bound up in it together and mutually support each other. I mean everything in us that is suffering, enduring, tender, susceptible, protective, and yielding: in short, love. And it's so far from that to everything else, especially to whatever is hard, aggressive, and actively life-shaping, that these other emotions and ideas and the bitter necessities disappear from view entirely. That doesn't mean that they fade from reality; merely that you don't get angry at them, don't deny them, and that you forget knowing about them; so it's like a roof that the wind can get under and that can never stand for long-"
"But one has faith in goodness! It's faith! You're forgetting that! " Agathe interrupted.
"No, I'm not forgetting that, but that came along only later, through Paul. I made a note of his explanation. It runs: 'Faith is the substance of
From the Posthumous Papers · 1395
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. ' And that's a gross, I'd almost say covetous; misunderstanding. The tenet of the kingdom that will come at the end of days would like to have something it can get hold of in place of the bliss that the Son of Man has already experienced on earth. "
"It has been promised. Why are you running it down? Is it then worth nothing to be able to believe not merely with all one's soul but utterly, with parasol and clothes? "
"But the breath of the annunciation was not promise and faith but intimation! A condition in which one loves metaphors! A bolder condi- tion than faith! And I'm not the first to notice this. The only thing that's been regarded as truly real for the bringer of salvation has been the ex- periencing of these foreshadowing metaphors of happy unresistingness and love; the miserable rest, which we call reality, natural, sturdy, dan- gerous life, has simply mirrored itself in his soul in a completely dematerialized way, like a picture puzzle. And-by Jehovah and Jupi- ter! -that assumes, first ofall, civilization, because no one is so poor that robbers can't be found to murder him; and it assumes a desert in which there are indeed evil spirits, but no lions. Secondly, these high and happy tidings appear to have originated pretty much in ignorance of all contemporarycivilizations. Itis remote from the multiplicities ofculture and the spirit, remote from doubts, but also from choice, remote from sickness but also from almost all discoveries that fight it: in short, it is remote from all the weaknesses, but also from all the advantages of human knowledge and capability, which even in its own time were by no means meager. And incidentally, that's why it also has rather simple no- tions of good and evil, beautiful and ugly. Now, the moment you make room for such objections and conditions, you'll also have to content yourself with my less simple procedure! "
Agathe argued against it anyway. "You're forgetting one thing," she repeated, "that this teaching claims to come from God; and in that case everything more complex that deviates from it is simply false or in- different! "
"Quieti" Ulrich said, placing a finger on his mouth. "You can't talk about God in such a stubbornly physical way, as if He were sitting be- hind that bush over there the way He did in the year wo! "
"All right, I can't," Agathe conceded. "But let me tellyau something, tool You yourself, when you're devising bliss on earth, are prepared to renounce science, tendencies in art, luxury, and everything people rush around for every day. Then why do you begrudge it so much to others? "
"You're certainly right," Ulrich conceded. A dry twig had found its way into his hand, and he pensively poked the ground with it. They had
1396 · THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
slid down a little, so that once again only their heads peeked over the top of the rise, and that only when they lifted them. They lay beside each other on their stomachs like two marksmen who have forgotten what they were lying in wait for; and Agathe, touched by her brother's yield- ing, threw her arm around his neck and made a concession of her own. "Look, what is it doing? " she exclaimed, pointing with a finger to an ant beside his twig, which had attacked another ant.
"It's murdering," Ulrich ascertained coldly.
"Don't let it! " Agathe pleaded, and in her excitement raised a leg to the sky so that it rose upside down over her knee.
Ulrich proposed: "Try to take it metaphorically. You don't even have to rush to give it a particular significance: just take its own! Then it be- comes like a dry breath of air, or the sulfurous smell of decaying foliage in autumn: some kind of volatizing drops of melancholy that make the soul's readiness for dissolution tremble. I can imagine that one could even get over one's own death amicably, but only because one dies just once and therefore regards it as especially important; because the un- derstanding of saints and heroes is pretty lacking in glory in the face of nature's constant small confusions and their dissonances! "
Possibly: Ulrich: Through faith!
Agathe: Intimation and metaphor won't do it either. Ulrich: Exactly!
While he was speaking, Agathe had taken the twig from his fingers and attempted to rescue the ant that had been attacked, with the result that she nearly crushed both, but finally she succeeded in separating them. With diminished vitality, the ants crept toward new adventures.
"Did that make any sense? " Ulrich asked.
"I understand you to mean by that that what we were trying to do by the fence is against nature and reason," Agathe answered.
"Why shouldn't I say it? " Ulrich said. "Anyway, I wanted to say to surprise you: the glory of God does not twitch an eyelid when calamity strikes. Perhaps too: life swallows corpses and filth without a shadow on its smile. And surely this: man is charming as long as no moral demands are made on him. " Ulrich stretched out irresponsibly in the sun. For they merely needed to change position slightly, they did not even have to stand up, in order for the world on which they had been eavesdropping to disappear and be replaced by a large lawn, bordered by rustling bushes, that stretched in a gentle incline down to their lovely old house
From the Posthu11Wf. lS Papers • 1397
and lay there in the full light of summer. They had given up the ants and offered themselves to the points of the sun's rays, half unawares; from time to time a cool breeze poured over them. "The sun shines on the just and the unjust! " Ulrich offered as benediction, in peaceable mockery.
'' 'Love your enemies, for He maketh the sun to rise on the evil and on the good' is the way it goes. " Agathe contradicted him as softly as if she were merely confiding it to the air.
"Really? The way I say it, it would be wonderfully natural! "
"But you've got it wrong. "
"Are you sure? Where is it from anyway? "
"The Bible, of course. I'll look it up in the house. I want to show you
for once that I can be right tool"
He wanted to hold her back, but she was already on her feet beside
him and hastened away. Ulrich closed his eyes. Then he opened and closed them again. Without Agathe, the solitude was bereft of every- thing; as if he were not in it himself. Then the steps returned. Great resounding footsteps in the silence, as in soft snow. Then the indescrib- able sense ofnearness set in, and finally the nearness filled with a cheery laugh, prefacing the words: "It goes: 'Love your enemies, . . . for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust'! "
"And where's it from? "
"Nowhere else but the Sermon on the Mount that you seem to know so well, my friend. "
"I feel I've been exposed as a bad theologian," Ulrich conceded with a smile, and asked: "Read it aloud! "
Agathe had a heavy Bible in her hands, not an especially old or pre- cious thing, but in any case not a recent edition, and read:
" 'Ye have heard that it hath been said, thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh the sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. ' "
"Do you know anything else? " Ulrich asked, eager to know.
''Yes," Agathe went on. "It is written: 'Ye have heard that it was said by them ofold time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger ofthe judgment: But I say unto you, that whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger ofthe judgment: . . . but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire. ' And then this too, which you know so well: 'But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, tum to him the
1398 • THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
other also. And ifany man will sue thee at the law and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. ' "
"Well, I don't like that! " Ulrich said.
Agathe thumbed through the pages. "Maybe you'll like this: ·And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profit- able for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. ' "
Ulrich took the book from her and leafed through it himself. ·There are even several variations," he exclaimed. Then he laid the book in the grass, pulled her beside him, and for some time said nothing. At last he replied: "Speaking seriously, I'm like Everyman, or at least like that man; it's natural for me to apply this saying in reverse. Ifhis hand offend thee, cut it off, and ifyou smite someone on the cheek, give him a hook to the heart too, just to make sure. ''
THE CONSTELLA TION OF BROTHER AND SISTER; OR, THE UNSEPARATED AND NOT UNITED
Even in those years when Ulrich had sought his path in life alone and not without bravado, the word "sister" had often been for him heavy with an undefined longing, although at that time he almost never thought that he possessed a real living sister. In this there was a contradiction point- ing to disparate origins, which were indicated in many ways that brother and sister ordinarily discounted. Not that they necessarily saw it as false, but it counted as little in relationship to the truth they knew they were approaching as an intruding comer signifies in the sweep of a grandly curving wall.
Without question, such things happen often. In many lives the unreal, invented sister is nothing other than the soaring youthful fonn of a need for love that later, in the condition ofchillier dreams, contents itselfwith a bird or another animal, or turns toward humanity or one's neighbor.
In the life of many others, this sister is adolescent timidity and loneliness, an invented doppelganger full of shadowboxing chann, which softens the anxieties of loneliness in the tenderness of a lonely togetherness. And of many natures it need merely be said that this image that they
From the Posthumous Papers · 1399
cherish so ecstatically is nothing but the crassest egotism and selfishness: an excessive liking to be loved that has entered into a jeny-built agree- ment with sweet selflessness. But that many men and women bear the image of such a counterpart in their hearts there can be no doubt. It simply represents love and is always the sign of an unsatisfying and tense relation to the world. And it is not only those who are deficient or who are by nature without harmony who have such desires; balanced people have them too.
And so Ulrich began to speak to his sister about an experience he had related to her once already, and repeated the story of the most unforget- table woman who, with the exception of Agathe herself, had ever crossed his path. She was a child-woman, a girl of about twelve, remark- ably mature in her behavior, who had ridden in the same trolley car for a short distance with him and a companion, and had charmed him like a mysteriously bygone love poem whose traces are full of never-experi- enced bliss. Later, the flaming up of his infatuation had sometimes aroused doubts in him, for it was peculiar and admitted dubious infer- ences about himself. For that reason he did not relate the incident with feeling but spoke of the doubts, even though it was not without feeling that he generalized them. . . At that age, a girl quite often has more beau- tiful legs than she does later," he said. . . Their later sturdiness apparently comes from what they need to carry directly above them; in adolescence these legs are long and free and can run, and if their skirts expose the thigh in some activity, the curve already has something gently increas- ing-oh, the crescent moon occurs to me, toward the end of its tender first virginal moon phase-that's how glorious they look! Later I some- times investigated the reasons quite seriously. At that age hair has the softest sheen. The face shows its lovely naturalness. The eyes are like some smooth, never-crumpled silk. The mind, destined in future to become petty and covetous, is still a pure flame without much bright- ness among obscure desires. And what at this age is certainly not yet beautiful-for instance, the childish tummy or the blind expression of the breast-acquires through the clothing, to the extent that it cleverly simulates adulthood, and through the dreamy imprecision of love, ev- erything that a charming stage mask can achieve. So ifs quite in order to admire such a creature, and how else should one do so than through a slight attack of love! "
. . And it's not at all against nature for a child to be the object of such feelings? " Agathe asked.
''What would be against nature would be a straight-out lustful desire," Ulrich replied. . . But a person like that also drags the innocent or, in any event, unready and helpless creature into actions for which it is not des-
1400 • THE MAN WITHOUT QUALITIES
tined. He must ignore the immaturity of the developing mind and body, and play the game of his passion with a mute and veiled opponent; no, he not only ignores whatever would get in his way, but brutally sweeps it aside! That's something quite different, with different consequences! "
"But perhaps a touch of the perniciousness of this 'sweeping aside' is already contained in the 'ignoring'? '' Agathe objected. She might have been jealous of her brother's tissue of thoughts; at any rate, she resisted. "I don't see any great distinction in whether one pays no attention to what might restrain one, or doesn't feel it! "
Ulrich countered: ''You're right and you're not right. I really just told the story because it's a prelimiruuy stage of the love between brother and sister. "
"Love between brother and sister? '' Agathe asked, and pretended to be astonished, as if she were hearing the term for the first time; but she was digging her nails into Ulrich's arm again, and perhaps she did so too strongly, and her fingers trembled. Ulrich, feeling as if five small warm wounds had opened side by side in his arm, suddenly said: "The person whose strongest stimulation is associated with experiences each of which is, in some way or other, impossible, isn't interested in possible experi- ences. It may be that imagination is a way of fleeing from life, a refuge and a den of iniquity, as many maintain; I think that the story of the little girl, as well as all the other examples we've talked about, point not to an abnormality or a weakness but to a revulsion against the world and a strong recalcitrance, an excessive and overpassionate desire for love! " He forgot that Agathe could know nothing of the other examples and equivocal comparisons with which his thoughts had previously as- sociated this kind of love; for he now felt himself in the clear again and had overcome, for the time being, the anesthetizing taste, the transfor- mation into the will-less and lifeless, that was part of his experience, so that the automatic reference slipped inadvertently through a gap in his thoughts.
These thoughts were still oriented toward the more general aspect, with which his personal case could be compared as well as contrasted; and if in favor of the inner coherence of these ideas one leaves aside how they succeeded and shaped one another, what remained was a more or less impersonal content that looked something like this: For the articula- tion of life, hate might be just as important as love. There seem to be as many reasons to love the world as to detest it. Both instincts lie in human nature ready for use, their powers in unequal proportions, which vary in individuals. But there,is no way of knowing how pleasure and bitterness balance each other in order to allow us to keep going on with our lives. The opinion we like to hear, that this calls for a preponderance of plea-
From the Posthumous Papers · 1 4 0 z
sure, is evidently false. For we also go on with our lives with bitterness, with an excess ofunhappiness, hatred, or contempt for life, and proceed as surely as we would with a superabundance of happiness. But it oc- curred to Ulrich that both are extremes, the life-loving person as well as the person shadowed by animosity, and this is what led him to think of the complicated balance that is the usual one. Belonging to this balance of love and hate, for example, and thereby to the processes and struc- tures with whose help they reach an accommodation, are justice and all other ways of observing moderation; but there belong to it no less the formation of fellowships of two or of vast numbers, combinations that are like feathered nests elaborately girdled with thorns; there belongs to it the certainty of God; and Ulrich knew that in this series the intellectual-sensual structure of the "sister" ultimately also had its place as a most daring expedient. From what weakness of soul this dream drew its nourishment stood hindmost, and foremost stood, as its origin, a really superhuman disparity. And apparently it was for this reason that Ulrich had spoken of revulsion toward the world, for whoever knows the depth ofgood and evil passion experiences the falling away ofevery kind of agreement that mediates between them, and he had not spoken the way he did in order to gloss over the passion for his own flesh and blood.
Without accounting for why he was doing so, he now told Agathe a second little story as well, which at the beginning seemed to have no connection at all with the first. "I once came across it, and it is supposed to have actually happened in the time of the Thirty Years' War, when individuals and peoples were thrown about in confusion," he began. "Most of the peasants from one isolated group of farms had been snatched away to serve in the war; none of them returned, and the women managed the farms by themselves, which was tiring and vexa- tious for them. Then it happened that one of the men who had disap- peared returned to the region, and after many adventures came to his wife. I'll say right off that it wasn't the right man but a tramp and de- ceiver, who had shared camp and march for a few months with the miss- ing and perhaps dead man, and had so successfully absorbed the other man's stories, when homesickness loosened his tongue, that he was able to pretend to be him. He knew the nicknames ofwife and cow, and the names and habits of the neighbors, who moreover lived some distance away. He had a beard exactly like the other man's. He had a way oflook- ing, with his two eyes ofnondescript color, that one might easily think he wouldn't have done it much differently before; and although his voice sounded strange at first, it could certainly be explained by saying that one was now listening more closely than one had before. In short, the man knew how to imitate his predecessor trait for trait, the way a coarse
1402 • THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
and unlike portrait at first repeals but becomes more of a likeness the longer one remains alone with it, and finally takes over one's recollection entirely. I can imagine that, from time to time, something like dread must have warned the woman that he was not her husband; but she wanted to have her man again, and perhaps just a man, and so the stran- ger became more and more established in his role-"
"And how did it end? " Agathe asked.
"I forget. Apparently the man must have been unmasked by some sort of accident. But man in general is never unmasked, his whole life long! " "You mean: One always only loves the stand-in for the right person? Or do you mean that when a person loves for the second time he doesn't confuse the two, but the image of the new one is in many places only an overpainting of the image of the first one? " Agathe asked, with a charm-
ingyawn.
"I intended to say a lot more, and it is much more boring," Ulrich
responded. "Try to imagine someone, color-blind, for whom shades of brightness and shadow represent almost the entire world of colors: he can't see a single color and yet can apparently act so that no one notices, for what he can see represents for him what he can't. But what happens in this case in a particular area is what really happens to us all with real- ity. In our experiences and investigations, reality never appears other- wise than through a glass that partially transmits one's glance and partially reflects back the image of the viewer. If I observe the delicately flushed white of your hand, or feel the refractory inwardness of your flesh in my fingers, I have something real before me, but not in the way in which it is real; and just as little when I reduce it to its ultimate atoms and formulas! "
"Then why make such an effort to reduce it to something loathsome! "
"Do you recall what I said about the intellectual portrayal of nature, of its being an image without similarity? There are many quite different ways in which anything can be apprehended as the exact image ofsome- thing else, but everything that occurs in this image, or results from it, must in just this one specific view always be a depiction of what investi- gating the original image demonstrates. If this also turns out to be the case where it could not have originally been foreseen, then the image is as justified as it can possibly be. That's a very general and quite unsen- sory notion of imageability. It presupposes a specific relationship of two areas, and gives to understand that it can be comprehended as a por- trayal whenever it covers both areas without exception. In this sense, a mathematical formula can be the image of a natural process, just as much as a portrayal established by external sensory similarity. A theory can in its consequences accord with reality, and the effects of reality with
From the Posthumous Papers · 1403
theory. The cylinder in a music box is the portrayal of a way of singing, and an action portrays a fluctuating feeling. In mathematics, where for the sake of unsullied progression of thought one would most like to trust only what can be counted offon one's fingers, one usually speaks only of the precision of coordinates, which has to be possible point for point. But fundamentally, everything can also be regarded as a portrayal that is called correspondence, representability for some purpose, equal value and exchangeability, or equality in respect to something, or undifferenti- ability, or mutual appropriateness according to some kind of standard. A portrayal, therefore, is something like a relationship of complete corre- spondence in view of any particular such relationship-"
Agathe interrupted this exposition, which Ulrich was pronouncing listlessly and out of a sense of duty, with the admonition: "You could really get one ofour modem painters fired up with all that-"
"Well, why not! " he replied. "Consider what sense there is in talking about fidelity to nature and similarity where the spatial is replaced by a surface, or the motley colors of life by metal or stone. That's why artists aren't entirely wrong to reject these notions of sensory imitation and similarity as photographic and, with the exception of a few traditional laws that go along with their medium and tools, why they recognize only inspiration, or some kind of theory that has been revealed to them; but the customers who are portrayed, who after the execution of these laws see themselves as victims of a miscarriage ofjustice, mostly aren't. . . . " Ulrich paused. Although he had intended to speak about the logically strict notion of portrayal only in order to be able to derive from it its free but by no means random consequences, which dominate the various imagistic relationships that occur in life, he was now silent. Observing himself in this attempt left him dissatisfied. He had lately forgotten many things that had formerly been at the tips ofhis fingers, or to put it better, he had pushed them aside; even the pointed expressions and concepts of his earlier profession, which he had used so often, were no longer viable for him, and in searching for them he not only felt an un- pleasant dryness but was also afraid of talking like a bungler.
"You said that a color-blind person isn't missing anything when he looks at the world," Agathe encouraged him.
"Yes. Of course I oughtn't to have put it quite that way," Ulrich re- sponded. "It's still an obscure question altogether. Even if you limit yourself to the intellectual image that the understanding derives from something, in confronting the problem ofwhether it's true you come up against the greatest difficulties, although the air you ordinarily breathe is always dry and crystalline. However, the images we make for ourselves in life so we can act and feel rightly, or even act and feel energetically,
1404 · THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
aren't determined just by the understanding; indeed, these images are often quite irrational and, according to rational standards, not at all ac- curate representations, and yet they must fulfill their purpose in order for us to remain in harmony with reality and with ourselves. They must also be precise and complete according to some kind of key or manual of images, and according to the notion that determines the manner in which they are portrayed, even if this notion leaves room for various methods-"
Agathe interrupted him excitedly. She had suddenly grasped the con- nection. "So the false peasant was a portrayal of the real one? " she asked.
Ulrich nodded. "Originally, an image always represented its object completely. It bestowed power over it. Whoever cut out the eyes or the heart ofan image killed the person portrayed. Whoever secretly got hold of the image of an inaccessible beauty was able to conquer her. The name, too, is part of these images; and so one was able to conjure God with His name, which is equivalent to making Him subservient. As you know, even today one makes off with secret remembrances, or gives oneself a ring with an engraved name, and wears pictures and locks of hair over one's heart as a talisman. In the course of time, something split off; but it has all sunk to the level of superstition, although one part has achieved the tedious dignity of photography, geometry, and such things. But just think of the hypnotized person, who with every sign of satisfac- tion bites into a potato that for him represents an apple, or think ofyour childhood dolls, which you loved more passionately the simpler they were and the less they looked like people; so you see that it doesn't de- pend on externalities, and you're back at the bolt-upright fetish column that represents a god-"
"Couldn't you almost say that the more dissimilar an image is, the greater the passion for it as soon as we've attached ourselves to it? " Agathe asked.
"Yes, absolutely! " Ulrich agreed. "Our reason, our perception, have separated themselves from our emotions in this matter. One could say that the most stirring representations always have something unlike. " Smiling, he observed her from the side and added: "When I'm not in your presence I don't see you before me in a way one would like to paint; it's rather as ifyou had glanced into some water and I was trying vainly to trace your image in the water with my finger. I maintain that it's only indifferent things that one sees properly and truly alike. "
"Strange! " his sister replied. "I see you before me precisely! Perhaps because my memory is entirely too precise and dependent! "
"Similarity ofportrayal is an approximation ofwhat the understanding
From the Posthu11Wf. lS Papers · 1405
finds real and equal; it is a concession to the understanding," Ulrich said agreeably, and went on in a conciliatory way: "But besides that, there are also the images that address themselves to our emotions, and an image in art is, for example, a mixture of both demands. But if, beyond that, you wish to take it to the point where something portrays something else only for the emotions, you'll have to think of such examples as a flag flying, which at certain moments is an image ofour honor-"
"But there you can only be talking about a symbol, you're no longer talking about images! " Agathe interjected.
"Mental image, simile, metaphor, they shade into one another," Ul- rich said. "Even such examples as the image ofa disease and the doctor's plan for curing it belong here. They must have imagination's inventive lack of precision, but the precision of executability as well. This flexible boundary between imagining the plan, and the image that endures in the face of reality, is important everywhere in life, but hard to find. "
"How different we are! " Agathe repeated thoughtfully.
Ulrich parried the reproach with a smile. "Very much so! I'm speaking of the lack of precision in taking something/or something, as of a divin- ity bestowing fruitfulness and life, and I'm trying to impart as much order to it as it will bear; and you don't notice that I've been talking for a long time about the truthful possibility of twins who are doppelgangers, who have two souls, but are one? '' He went on spiritedly: "Imagine twins who resemble each other 'interchangeably'; place them before you, each in the same attitude, separated only by a wall indicated by a line to con- finn that they are two independent beings. And in an uncanny augmen- tation, they can repeat themselves in whatever they do, so that you spontaneously assume the same about their inner processes. What's un- canny about this performance? That there's absolutely nothing by which we can distinguish them, and that yet they are two! That in everything we might undertake with them, one is as good as the other, although in the process something like a destiny is being fulfilled! In short, they are the same for us but not for themselves! "
"Why are you playing such gruesome and spooky games with these twins? '' Agathe asked.
"Because it's a case that happens often. It's the case of mistaking things, of indifference, of perceiving and acting wholesale, of represent- ability: in other words, a major chapter from the usages of life. I've only prettied it up in order to dramatize something for you. Now let me tum it around: Under what circumstances would the twins be two for us and one for themselves? Is that spooky too? "
Agathe pressed his arm and sighed. Then she admitted: "If it's possi- ble for two people to be the same for the world, it could also be that a
1406 ·THE MAN WITHOUT QUALITIES
person appears to us doubled- But you're making me speak nonsense! " she added.
"Imagine two goldfish in a bowl," Ulrich asked.
"No! " Agathe said firmly, but laughing at the same time. ''I'm not going along with any more of this! "
"Please, imagine them! A large bowl in the shape of a ball, as you sometimes see in someone's living room. You can, incidentally, imagine the bowl to be as large as the boundaries of our property. And two red- dish-gold fish, moving their fins slowly up and down like veils. Let's leave aside whether they are really two or one. For each other, at least, they will be two, for the time being; their jealousy over feeding and sex will see to that. They avoid each other, too, whenever they come too near each other. But I can well imagine that for me they can become one: I need only concentrate on this motion that slowly draws in upon itself and unfolds, and then this single shimmering creature becomes merely a dependent part of this common up-and-down motion. Now I ask when this might also happen to them-"
"They're goldfish! " Agathe admonished. "Not a group of dancers suf- fering from supernatural delusions! "
"They are you and I," her brother responded pensively, "and that's why I would like to try to bring the comparison to a proper conclusion. It seems to me a soluble problem to imagine how the world glides past in its separate-but-united motion. It's no different from the world undulat- ing past from a railway car going around curves, except that it happens twice over, so that at every one of the double being's moments, the world occupies two positions, which somehow must coincide in the soul. That means that the idea of getting from one to the other through some motion will never be associated with these double beings; the impres- sion of a distance existing between them will not arise; and more such things. I think I can imagine that one would also manage to be tolerably comfortable in such a world and could doubtless puzzle out in various ways the necessary constitution of the mental tools and procedures needed to make sense of things. " Ulrich stopped for a moment and re- flected. He had become aware of many objections, and the possibility of overcoming them also suggested itself. He smiled guiltily. Then he said: "But ifwe assume that the constitution ofthat other world is the same as ours, the task is much easier! Both hovering creatures will then feel themselves as one without being bothered by the difference in their per- ception and without there being any need of a higher geometry or physi- ology to attain it, as long as you are simply willing to believe that spiritually they are bound to each other more firmly than they are to the world. If anything at all important that they share is infinitely stronger
From the Posthumous Papers · 1407
than the difference of their experiences; if it bridges these differences and doesn't even let them reach awareness; ifthe disturbances reaching them from the world aren't worth being aware of, then it will happen. And a shared suggestion can have this effect; or a sweet indolence and imprecision of the habits of receptiveness, which mix everything up; or a one-sided tension and exaltation that allows only what is desired to get through: one thing, it seems to me, as good as the next-"
Now Agathe laughed at him: "Then why did I have to march through all that precision about the conditions ofportrayal? " she asked.
Ulrich shrugged his shoulders. "It's all interconnected," he answered, falling silent.
He himself knew that with all his efforts he had nowhere made a breach, and their variety confused his recollection. He foresaw that they would repeat themselves. But he was tired. And as the world becomes snugly heavy in the evaporating light and draws all its limbs up to itself, so did Agathe's nearness again force its way physically among his thoughts while his mind was giving up. They had both become accus- tomed to conducting such difficult conversations, and for rather a long time these had already been such a mixture ofthe pulsating power ofthe imagination, and the vain utmost effort of the understanding to secure it, that it was nothing new for either of them at one time to hope for a resolution, at another to allow their own words to rock them to sleep much as one listens to the childishly happy conversation of a fountain, babbling to itself happily about eternity. In this condition Ulrich now belatedly thought of something, and again had recourse to his carefully prepared parable. "It's amazingly simple, but at the same time strange, and I don't know how to present it to you convincingly," he said. "You see that cloud over there in a somewhat different position than I do, and also presumably in a different way; and we've discussed how whatever you see and do and what occurs to you will never be the same as what happens to me and what I do. And we've investigated the question of whether, in spite of that, it still might not be possible to be one being to the ultimate degree, and live as two with one soul. We've measured out all sorts of answers with a compass, but I forgot the simplest: that both people could be minded and able to take everything they experience only as a simile! Just consider that for the understanding every simile is equivocal, but for the emotions it's unequivocal. For someone to whom the world is just a simile could also probably, according to his standards, experience as one thing what according to the world's standards is two. " At this moment the idea also hovered before Ulrich that, in an attitude toward life for which being in one place is merely a metaphor for being in another, even that which cannot be experienced-being one person
1408 · THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
in two hodies wandering about separately-would lose the sting of its impossibility; and he made ready to talk about this further.
But Agathe pointed at the cloud and interrupted him glibly: "Hamlet: 'Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? ' Polonius: 'By th' mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.
They lay on their stomachs on the ground, next to each other. If they raised their heads, they saw the street; if they didn't, they saw between pointed young blades of grass the drying fallen leaves from the high tree.
Agathe asked: "So that's why it's love your neighbor 'as yourself'? It could also be the other way around: Love yourself as your neighbor. "
"Yes. And it's easier to love him not only less than oneself but also more. What's almost impossible is to love him and yourself in the same way. Compared with that, loving someone so much that you sacrifice yourself for him is positively a relief," Ulrich replied. For the moment, the conversation had taken on the playful tone that deftly stirred up pro- found questions, a tone to which they had become accustomed during their walks through the city; but really-and although since then noth- ing that could be counted as time had passed-they were deliberately imitating themselves, the way one casually immerses oneself again in a game one has outgrown. And Agathe remarked: "So then love your neighbor as yourself also means: don't love your neighbor selflessly! "
"Actually, yes," Ulrich conceded. And without agreeing with her inci- dental arguments against selfless goodness, which in male human form were courting her soul, he added: "That's even quite important. For the people who talk ofselfless goodness are teaching something that's better than selfishness and less than goodness. "
And Agathe asked: "But when you fall in love the usual way, doesn't that inevitably involve desire and selflessness? "
"Y es. "
"And it really can't be said of self-love either that one desires oneself, or that one loves oneself selflessly? "
"No," Ulrich said.
"Then what's called self-love may not be any kind of love at all? " Agathe hazarded.
"That's as you take it," her brother replied. "It's more a confiding in oneself, an instinctive caring for oneself-"
From the Posthunwus Papers · 1393
"Self-toleration! " Agathe said, quite deliberately making a dissatisfied and slightly disgusted face, although she did not exactly know why.
"Why are we talking about it at all? " Ulrich intexjected.
"But we're talking about others! " Agathe answered, and laughter at her brother and herselflit up her face. She had again directed her glance at the fence, drawing her brother's after her; and because their eyes were not focused on a specific distance, the host of vehicles and pedes- trians swam past it. "Where shall we begin? " she asked, as if the rest were understood as a matter of course.
"You can't just do it on command! " Ulrich objected.
"No. But we can try to just feel everything in some such way; and we can enbust ourselves to it more and more! "
"That has to happen of itself. "
"Let's help it along! " Agathe proposed. "For instance, let's stop talk- ing and do nothing but look at them! "
"That's all right with me," Ulrich agreed.
For a short time they were silent; then something else occurred to Agathe: "To love something in the ordinary sense means to prefer it to something else: so we must try to love one person and at the same time prevent ourselves from preferring him to others," she whispered.
"Keep quiet! You have to be quiet! " Ulrich fended her off.
Now they gazed out for a while again. But soon Agathe propped her- self up on her elbow and looked despairingly at her brother. "It's not working! As soon as I tried it, the people outside became like a river full of pale fish. We're dreadful idlers! " she complained.
Ulrich turned toward her, laughing. "You're forgetting that striving for bliss isn't work! "
''I've never done anything in my whole life; now I'd like something to happen! Let's do something good to someone! " Agathe pleaded.
"Even doing good is a notion that doesn't occur at all in real goodness. It's only when the waves break that the ocean disintegrates into drop- lets! " Ulrich countered. "And what would it mean anyway to do some- thing good in a situation in which you can't do anything but good? " The anticipation, the headiness ofa feeling ofvictory, the confidence ofpow- ers that were for the moment at rest, allowed him to be playful with his seriousness.
"So you don't want to do anything? " Agathe asked coolly.
"Of course I do! But the kingdom oflove is in every respect the great antireality. That's why the first thing you have to do is cut the arms and legs off your emotions; and then we'll see what can happen in spite of that! "
1394 · THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
"You make it sound like a machine," Agathe chided.
"You have to undertake it as a good experimenter," Ulrich contra- dicted her, unmoved. "You have to try to circumscribe the decisive part. "
Agathe now offered serious resistance. 'We're not concluding some scientific investigation but, ifyou'll permit the expression, opening our hearts," she said with somewhat sarcastic sharpness. "And also the point we'd have to start from has not been exactly new for some time, since the Gospels! Exclude hatred, resistance, strife from yourself; just don't be- lieve that they exist! Don't blame, don't get angry, don't hold people re- sponsible, don't defend yourself against anything! Don't struggle anymore; don't think or bargain; forget and unlearn denial! In this way fill every crack, every fissure, between you and them; love, fear, beg, and walk with them; and take everything that happens in time and space, whatever comes and goes, whatever is beautiful or disturbing, not as re- ality but as a word and metaphor of the Lord. That's how we should go to meet them! "
As usually happened, during this long and passionate and unusually resolute speech her face had taken on a deeper hue. "Splendid! Every word a letter in a great scripture! " Ulrich exclaimed appreciatively. "And we, too, will have to gain courage. But such courage? Is that what you really want? "
Agathe subdued her zeal and denied it mutely and honestly. "Not en- tirely! " she added by way of explanation, so as not to deny it too much.
"It is the teaching of Him who advised us to offer our left cheek ifwe have been struck on the right one. And that's probably the mildest trans- gression that ever was," Ulrich went on reflectively. "But don't misun- derstand one thing, that this message too, if carried out, is a psychological exercise! A particular behavior and a particular group of ideas and emotions are bound up in it together and mutually support each other. I mean everything in us that is suffering, enduring, tender, susceptible, protective, and yielding: in short, love. And it's so far from that to everything else, especially to whatever is hard, aggressive, and actively life-shaping, that these other emotions and ideas and the bitter necessities disappear from view entirely. That doesn't mean that they fade from reality; merely that you don't get angry at them, don't deny them, and that you forget knowing about them; so it's like a roof that the wind can get under and that can never stand for long-"
"But one has faith in goodness! It's faith! You're forgetting that! " Agathe interrupted.
"No, I'm not forgetting that, but that came along only later, through Paul. I made a note of his explanation. It runs: 'Faith is the substance of
From the Posthumous Papers · 1395
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. ' And that's a gross, I'd almost say covetous; misunderstanding. The tenet of the kingdom that will come at the end of days would like to have something it can get hold of in place of the bliss that the Son of Man has already experienced on earth. "
"It has been promised. Why are you running it down? Is it then worth nothing to be able to believe not merely with all one's soul but utterly, with parasol and clothes? "
"But the breath of the annunciation was not promise and faith but intimation! A condition in which one loves metaphors! A bolder condi- tion than faith! And I'm not the first to notice this. The only thing that's been regarded as truly real for the bringer of salvation has been the ex- periencing of these foreshadowing metaphors of happy unresistingness and love; the miserable rest, which we call reality, natural, sturdy, dan- gerous life, has simply mirrored itself in his soul in a completely dematerialized way, like a picture puzzle. And-by Jehovah and Jupi- ter! -that assumes, first ofall, civilization, because no one is so poor that robbers can't be found to murder him; and it assumes a desert in which there are indeed evil spirits, but no lions. Secondly, these high and happy tidings appear to have originated pretty much in ignorance of all contemporarycivilizations. Itis remote from the multiplicities ofculture and the spirit, remote from doubts, but also from choice, remote from sickness but also from almost all discoveries that fight it: in short, it is remote from all the weaknesses, but also from all the advantages of human knowledge and capability, which even in its own time were by no means meager. And incidentally, that's why it also has rather simple no- tions of good and evil, beautiful and ugly. Now, the moment you make room for such objections and conditions, you'll also have to content yourself with my less simple procedure! "
Agathe argued against it anyway. "You're forgetting one thing," she repeated, "that this teaching claims to come from God; and in that case everything more complex that deviates from it is simply false or in- different! "
"Quieti" Ulrich said, placing a finger on his mouth. "You can't talk about God in such a stubbornly physical way, as if He were sitting be- hind that bush over there the way He did in the year wo! "
"All right, I can't," Agathe conceded. "But let me tellyau something, tool You yourself, when you're devising bliss on earth, are prepared to renounce science, tendencies in art, luxury, and everything people rush around for every day. Then why do you begrudge it so much to others? "
"You're certainly right," Ulrich conceded. A dry twig had found its way into his hand, and he pensively poked the ground with it. They had
1396 · THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
slid down a little, so that once again only their heads peeked over the top of the rise, and that only when they lifted them. They lay beside each other on their stomachs like two marksmen who have forgotten what they were lying in wait for; and Agathe, touched by her brother's yield- ing, threw her arm around his neck and made a concession of her own. "Look, what is it doing? " she exclaimed, pointing with a finger to an ant beside his twig, which had attacked another ant.
"It's murdering," Ulrich ascertained coldly.
"Don't let it! " Agathe pleaded, and in her excitement raised a leg to the sky so that it rose upside down over her knee.
Ulrich proposed: "Try to take it metaphorically. You don't even have to rush to give it a particular significance: just take its own! Then it be- comes like a dry breath of air, or the sulfurous smell of decaying foliage in autumn: some kind of volatizing drops of melancholy that make the soul's readiness for dissolution tremble. I can imagine that one could even get over one's own death amicably, but only because one dies just once and therefore regards it as especially important; because the un- derstanding of saints and heroes is pretty lacking in glory in the face of nature's constant small confusions and their dissonances! "
Possibly: Ulrich: Through faith!
Agathe: Intimation and metaphor won't do it either. Ulrich: Exactly!
While he was speaking, Agathe had taken the twig from his fingers and attempted to rescue the ant that had been attacked, with the result that she nearly crushed both, but finally she succeeded in separating them. With diminished vitality, the ants crept toward new adventures.
"Did that make any sense? " Ulrich asked.
"I understand you to mean by that that what we were trying to do by the fence is against nature and reason," Agathe answered.
"Why shouldn't I say it? " Ulrich said. "Anyway, I wanted to say to surprise you: the glory of God does not twitch an eyelid when calamity strikes. Perhaps too: life swallows corpses and filth without a shadow on its smile. And surely this: man is charming as long as no moral demands are made on him. " Ulrich stretched out irresponsibly in the sun. For they merely needed to change position slightly, they did not even have to stand up, in order for the world on which they had been eavesdropping to disappear and be replaced by a large lawn, bordered by rustling bushes, that stretched in a gentle incline down to their lovely old house
From the Posthu11Wf. lS Papers • 1397
and lay there in the full light of summer. They had given up the ants and offered themselves to the points of the sun's rays, half unawares; from time to time a cool breeze poured over them. "The sun shines on the just and the unjust! " Ulrich offered as benediction, in peaceable mockery.
'' 'Love your enemies, for He maketh the sun to rise on the evil and on the good' is the way it goes. " Agathe contradicted him as softly as if she were merely confiding it to the air.
"Really? The way I say it, it would be wonderfully natural! "
"But you've got it wrong. "
"Are you sure? Where is it from anyway? "
"The Bible, of course. I'll look it up in the house. I want to show you
for once that I can be right tool"
He wanted to hold her back, but she was already on her feet beside
him and hastened away. Ulrich closed his eyes. Then he opened and closed them again. Without Agathe, the solitude was bereft of every- thing; as if he were not in it himself. Then the steps returned. Great resounding footsteps in the silence, as in soft snow. Then the indescrib- able sense ofnearness set in, and finally the nearness filled with a cheery laugh, prefacing the words: "It goes: 'Love your enemies, . . . for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust'! "
"And where's it from? "
"Nowhere else but the Sermon on the Mount that you seem to know so well, my friend. "
"I feel I've been exposed as a bad theologian," Ulrich conceded with a smile, and asked: "Read it aloud! "
Agathe had a heavy Bible in her hands, not an especially old or pre- cious thing, but in any case not a recent edition, and read:
" 'Ye have heard that it hath been said, thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh the sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. ' "
"Do you know anything else? " Ulrich asked, eager to know.
''Yes," Agathe went on. "It is written: 'Ye have heard that it was said by them ofold time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger ofthe judgment: But I say unto you, that whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger ofthe judgment: . . . but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire. ' And then this too, which you know so well: 'But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, tum to him the
1398 • THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
other also. And ifany man will sue thee at the law and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. ' "
"Well, I don't like that! " Ulrich said.
Agathe thumbed through the pages. "Maybe you'll like this: ·And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profit- able for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. ' "
Ulrich took the book from her and leafed through it himself. ·There are even several variations," he exclaimed. Then he laid the book in the grass, pulled her beside him, and for some time said nothing. At last he replied: "Speaking seriously, I'm like Everyman, or at least like that man; it's natural for me to apply this saying in reverse. Ifhis hand offend thee, cut it off, and ifyou smite someone on the cheek, give him a hook to the heart too, just to make sure. ''
THE CONSTELLA TION OF BROTHER AND SISTER; OR, THE UNSEPARATED AND NOT UNITED
Even in those years when Ulrich had sought his path in life alone and not without bravado, the word "sister" had often been for him heavy with an undefined longing, although at that time he almost never thought that he possessed a real living sister. In this there was a contradiction point- ing to disparate origins, which were indicated in many ways that brother and sister ordinarily discounted. Not that they necessarily saw it as false, but it counted as little in relationship to the truth they knew they were approaching as an intruding comer signifies in the sweep of a grandly curving wall.
Without question, such things happen often. In many lives the unreal, invented sister is nothing other than the soaring youthful fonn of a need for love that later, in the condition ofchillier dreams, contents itselfwith a bird or another animal, or turns toward humanity or one's neighbor.
In the life of many others, this sister is adolescent timidity and loneliness, an invented doppelganger full of shadowboxing chann, which softens the anxieties of loneliness in the tenderness of a lonely togetherness. And of many natures it need merely be said that this image that they
From the Posthumous Papers · 1399
cherish so ecstatically is nothing but the crassest egotism and selfishness: an excessive liking to be loved that has entered into a jeny-built agree- ment with sweet selflessness. But that many men and women bear the image of such a counterpart in their hearts there can be no doubt. It simply represents love and is always the sign of an unsatisfying and tense relation to the world. And it is not only those who are deficient or who are by nature without harmony who have such desires; balanced people have them too.
And so Ulrich began to speak to his sister about an experience he had related to her once already, and repeated the story of the most unforget- table woman who, with the exception of Agathe herself, had ever crossed his path. She was a child-woman, a girl of about twelve, remark- ably mature in her behavior, who had ridden in the same trolley car for a short distance with him and a companion, and had charmed him like a mysteriously bygone love poem whose traces are full of never-experi- enced bliss. Later, the flaming up of his infatuation had sometimes aroused doubts in him, for it was peculiar and admitted dubious infer- ences about himself. For that reason he did not relate the incident with feeling but spoke of the doubts, even though it was not without feeling that he generalized them. . . At that age, a girl quite often has more beau- tiful legs than she does later," he said. . . Their later sturdiness apparently comes from what they need to carry directly above them; in adolescence these legs are long and free and can run, and if their skirts expose the thigh in some activity, the curve already has something gently increas- ing-oh, the crescent moon occurs to me, toward the end of its tender first virginal moon phase-that's how glorious they look! Later I some- times investigated the reasons quite seriously. At that age hair has the softest sheen. The face shows its lovely naturalness. The eyes are like some smooth, never-crumpled silk. The mind, destined in future to become petty and covetous, is still a pure flame without much bright- ness among obscure desires. And what at this age is certainly not yet beautiful-for instance, the childish tummy or the blind expression of the breast-acquires through the clothing, to the extent that it cleverly simulates adulthood, and through the dreamy imprecision of love, ev- erything that a charming stage mask can achieve. So ifs quite in order to admire such a creature, and how else should one do so than through a slight attack of love! "
. . And it's not at all against nature for a child to be the object of such feelings? " Agathe asked.
''What would be against nature would be a straight-out lustful desire," Ulrich replied. . . But a person like that also drags the innocent or, in any event, unready and helpless creature into actions for which it is not des-
1400 • THE MAN WITHOUT QUALITIES
tined. He must ignore the immaturity of the developing mind and body, and play the game of his passion with a mute and veiled opponent; no, he not only ignores whatever would get in his way, but brutally sweeps it aside! That's something quite different, with different consequences! "
"But perhaps a touch of the perniciousness of this 'sweeping aside' is already contained in the 'ignoring'? '' Agathe objected. She might have been jealous of her brother's tissue of thoughts; at any rate, she resisted. "I don't see any great distinction in whether one pays no attention to what might restrain one, or doesn't feel it! "
Ulrich countered: ''You're right and you're not right. I really just told the story because it's a prelimiruuy stage of the love between brother and sister. "
"Love between brother and sister? '' Agathe asked, and pretended to be astonished, as if she were hearing the term for the first time; but she was digging her nails into Ulrich's arm again, and perhaps she did so too strongly, and her fingers trembled. Ulrich, feeling as if five small warm wounds had opened side by side in his arm, suddenly said: "The person whose strongest stimulation is associated with experiences each of which is, in some way or other, impossible, isn't interested in possible experi- ences. It may be that imagination is a way of fleeing from life, a refuge and a den of iniquity, as many maintain; I think that the story of the little girl, as well as all the other examples we've talked about, point not to an abnormality or a weakness but to a revulsion against the world and a strong recalcitrance, an excessive and overpassionate desire for love! " He forgot that Agathe could know nothing of the other examples and equivocal comparisons with which his thoughts had previously as- sociated this kind of love; for he now felt himself in the clear again and had overcome, for the time being, the anesthetizing taste, the transfor- mation into the will-less and lifeless, that was part of his experience, so that the automatic reference slipped inadvertently through a gap in his thoughts.
These thoughts were still oriented toward the more general aspect, with which his personal case could be compared as well as contrasted; and if in favor of the inner coherence of these ideas one leaves aside how they succeeded and shaped one another, what remained was a more or less impersonal content that looked something like this: For the articula- tion of life, hate might be just as important as love. There seem to be as many reasons to love the world as to detest it. Both instincts lie in human nature ready for use, their powers in unequal proportions, which vary in individuals. But there,is no way of knowing how pleasure and bitterness balance each other in order to allow us to keep going on with our lives. The opinion we like to hear, that this calls for a preponderance of plea-
From the Posthumous Papers · 1 4 0 z
sure, is evidently false. For we also go on with our lives with bitterness, with an excess ofunhappiness, hatred, or contempt for life, and proceed as surely as we would with a superabundance of happiness. But it oc- curred to Ulrich that both are extremes, the life-loving person as well as the person shadowed by animosity, and this is what led him to think of the complicated balance that is the usual one. Belonging to this balance of love and hate, for example, and thereby to the processes and struc- tures with whose help they reach an accommodation, are justice and all other ways of observing moderation; but there belong to it no less the formation of fellowships of two or of vast numbers, combinations that are like feathered nests elaborately girdled with thorns; there belongs to it the certainty of God; and Ulrich knew that in this series the intellectual-sensual structure of the "sister" ultimately also had its place as a most daring expedient. From what weakness of soul this dream drew its nourishment stood hindmost, and foremost stood, as its origin, a really superhuman disparity. And apparently it was for this reason that Ulrich had spoken of revulsion toward the world, for whoever knows the depth ofgood and evil passion experiences the falling away ofevery kind of agreement that mediates between them, and he had not spoken the way he did in order to gloss over the passion for his own flesh and blood.
Without accounting for why he was doing so, he now told Agathe a second little story as well, which at the beginning seemed to have no connection at all with the first. "I once came across it, and it is supposed to have actually happened in the time of the Thirty Years' War, when individuals and peoples were thrown about in confusion," he began. "Most of the peasants from one isolated group of farms had been snatched away to serve in the war; none of them returned, and the women managed the farms by themselves, which was tiring and vexa- tious for them. Then it happened that one of the men who had disap- peared returned to the region, and after many adventures came to his wife. I'll say right off that it wasn't the right man but a tramp and de- ceiver, who had shared camp and march for a few months with the miss- ing and perhaps dead man, and had so successfully absorbed the other man's stories, when homesickness loosened his tongue, that he was able to pretend to be him. He knew the nicknames ofwife and cow, and the names and habits of the neighbors, who moreover lived some distance away. He had a beard exactly like the other man's. He had a way oflook- ing, with his two eyes ofnondescript color, that one might easily think he wouldn't have done it much differently before; and although his voice sounded strange at first, it could certainly be explained by saying that one was now listening more closely than one had before. In short, the man knew how to imitate his predecessor trait for trait, the way a coarse
1402 • THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
and unlike portrait at first repeals but becomes more of a likeness the longer one remains alone with it, and finally takes over one's recollection entirely. I can imagine that, from time to time, something like dread must have warned the woman that he was not her husband; but she wanted to have her man again, and perhaps just a man, and so the stran- ger became more and more established in his role-"
"And how did it end? " Agathe asked.
"I forget. Apparently the man must have been unmasked by some sort of accident. But man in general is never unmasked, his whole life long! " "You mean: One always only loves the stand-in for the right person? Or do you mean that when a person loves for the second time he doesn't confuse the two, but the image of the new one is in many places only an overpainting of the image of the first one? " Agathe asked, with a charm-
ingyawn.
"I intended to say a lot more, and it is much more boring," Ulrich
responded. "Try to imagine someone, color-blind, for whom shades of brightness and shadow represent almost the entire world of colors: he can't see a single color and yet can apparently act so that no one notices, for what he can see represents for him what he can't. But what happens in this case in a particular area is what really happens to us all with real- ity. In our experiences and investigations, reality never appears other- wise than through a glass that partially transmits one's glance and partially reflects back the image of the viewer. If I observe the delicately flushed white of your hand, or feel the refractory inwardness of your flesh in my fingers, I have something real before me, but not in the way in which it is real; and just as little when I reduce it to its ultimate atoms and formulas! "
"Then why make such an effort to reduce it to something loathsome! "
"Do you recall what I said about the intellectual portrayal of nature, of its being an image without similarity? There are many quite different ways in which anything can be apprehended as the exact image ofsome- thing else, but everything that occurs in this image, or results from it, must in just this one specific view always be a depiction of what investi- gating the original image demonstrates. If this also turns out to be the case where it could not have originally been foreseen, then the image is as justified as it can possibly be. That's a very general and quite unsen- sory notion of imageability. It presupposes a specific relationship of two areas, and gives to understand that it can be comprehended as a por- trayal whenever it covers both areas without exception. In this sense, a mathematical formula can be the image of a natural process, just as much as a portrayal established by external sensory similarity. A theory can in its consequences accord with reality, and the effects of reality with
From the Posthumous Papers · 1403
theory. The cylinder in a music box is the portrayal of a way of singing, and an action portrays a fluctuating feeling. In mathematics, where for the sake of unsullied progression of thought one would most like to trust only what can be counted offon one's fingers, one usually speaks only of the precision of coordinates, which has to be possible point for point. But fundamentally, everything can also be regarded as a portrayal that is called correspondence, representability for some purpose, equal value and exchangeability, or equality in respect to something, or undifferenti- ability, or mutual appropriateness according to some kind of standard. A portrayal, therefore, is something like a relationship of complete corre- spondence in view of any particular such relationship-"
Agathe interrupted this exposition, which Ulrich was pronouncing listlessly and out of a sense of duty, with the admonition: "You could really get one ofour modem painters fired up with all that-"
"Well, why not! " he replied. "Consider what sense there is in talking about fidelity to nature and similarity where the spatial is replaced by a surface, or the motley colors of life by metal or stone. That's why artists aren't entirely wrong to reject these notions of sensory imitation and similarity as photographic and, with the exception of a few traditional laws that go along with their medium and tools, why they recognize only inspiration, or some kind of theory that has been revealed to them; but the customers who are portrayed, who after the execution of these laws see themselves as victims of a miscarriage ofjustice, mostly aren't. . . . " Ulrich paused. Although he had intended to speak about the logically strict notion of portrayal only in order to be able to derive from it its free but by no means random consequences, which dominate the various imagistic relationships that occur in life, he was now silent. Observing himself in this attempt left him dissatisfied. He had lately forgotten many things that had formerly been at the tips ofhis fingers, or to put it better, he had pushed them aside; even the pointed expressions and concepts of his earlier profession, which he had used so often, were no longer viable for him, and in searching for them he not only felt an un- pleasant dryness but was also afraid of talking like a bungler.
"You said that a color-blind person isn't missing anything when he looks at the world," Agathe encouraged him.
"Yes. Of course I oughtn't to have put it quite that way," Ulrich re- sponded. "It's still an obscure question altogether. Even if you limit yourself to the intellectual image that the understanding derives from something, in confronting the problem ofwhether it's true you come up against the greatest difficulties, although the air you ordinarily breathe is always dry and crystalline. However, the images we make for ourselves in life so we can act and feel rightly, or even act and feel energetically,
1404 · THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
aren't determined just by the understanding; indeed, these images are often quite irrational and, according to rational standards, not at all ac- curate representations, and yet they must fulfill their purpose in order for us to remain in harmony with reality and with ourselves. They must also be precise and complete according to some kind of key or manual of images, and according to the notion that determines the manner in which they are portrayed, even if this notion leaves room for various methods-"
Agathe interrupted him excitedly. She had suddenly grasped the con- nection. "So the false peasant was a portrayal of the real one? " she asked.
Ulrich nodded. "Originally, an image always represented its object completely. It bestowed power over it. Whoever cut out the eyes or the heart ofan image killed the person portrayed. Whoever secretly got hold of the image of an inaccessible beauty was able to conquer her. The name, too, is part of these images; and so one was able to conjure God with His name, which is equivalent to making Him subservient. As you know, even today one makes off with secret remembrances, or gives oneself a ring with an engraved name, and wears pictures and locks of hair over one's heart as a talisman. In the course of time, something split off; but it has all sunk to the level of superstition, although one part has achieved the tedious dignity of photography, geometry, and such things. But just think of the hypnotized person, who with every sign of satisfac- tion bites into a potato that for him represents an apple, or think ofyour childhood dolls, which you loved more passionately the simpler they were and the less they looked like people; so you see that it doesn't de- pend on externalities, and you're back at the bolt-upright fetish column that represents a god-"
"Couldn't you almost say that the more dissimilar an image is, the greater the passion for it as soon as we've attached ourselves to it? " Agathe asked.
"Yes, absolutely! " Ulrich agreed. "Our reason, our perception, have separated themselves from our emotions in this matter. One could say that the most stirring representations always have something unlike. " Smiling, he observed her from the side and added: "When I'm not in your presence I don't see you before me in a way one would like to paint; it's rather as ifyou had glanced into some water and I was trying vainly to trace your image in the water with my finger. I maintain that it's only indifferent things that one sees properly and truly alike. "
"Strange! " his sister replied. "I see you before me precisely! Perhaps because my memory is entirely too precise and dependent! "
"Similarity ofportrayal is an approximation ofwhat the understanding
From the Posthu11Wf. lS Papers · 1405
finds real and equal; it is a concession to the understanding," Ulrich said agreeably, and went on in a conciliatory way: "But besides that, there are also the images that address themselves to our emotions, and an image in art is, for example, a mixture of both demands. But if, beyond that, you wish to take it to the point where something portrays something else only for the emotions, you'll have to think of such examples as a flag flying, which at certain moments is an image ofour honor-"
"But there you can only be talking about a symbol, you're no longer talking about images! " Agathe interjected.
"Mental image, simile, metaphor, they shade into one another," Ul- rich said. "Even such examples as the image ofa disease and the doctor's plan for curing it belong here. They must have imagination's inventive lack of precision, but the precision of executability as well. This flexible boundary between imagining the plan, and the image that endures in the face of reality, is important everywhere in life, but hard to find. "
"How different we are! " Agathe repeated thoughtfully.
Ulrich parried the reproach with a smile. "Very much so! I'm speaking of the lack of precision in taking something/or something, as of a divin- ity bestowing fruitfulness and life, and I'm trying to impart as much order to it as it will bear; and you don't notice that I've been talking for a long time about the truthful possibility of twins who are doppelgangers, who have two souls, but are one? '' He went on spiritedly: "Imagine twins who resemble each other 'interchangeably'; place them before you, each in the same attitude, separated only by a wall indicated by a line to con- finn that they are two independent beings. And in an uncanny augmen- tation, they can repeat themselves in whatever they do, so that you spontaneously assume the same about their inner processes. What's un- canny about this performance? That there's absolutely nothing by which we can distinguish them, and that yet they are two! That in everything we might undertake with them, one is as good as the other, although in the process something like a destiny is being fulfilled! In short, they are the same for us but not for themselves! "
"Why are you playing such gruesome and spooky games with these twins? '' Agathe asked.
"Because it's a case that happens often. It's the case of mistaking things, of indifference, of perceiving and acting wholesale, of represent- ability: in other words, a major chapter from the usages of life. I've only prettied it up in order to dramatize something for you. Now let me tum it around: Under what circumstances would the twins be two for us and one for themselves? Is that spooky too? "
Agathe pressed his arm and sighed. Then she admitted: "If it's possi- ble for two people to be the same for the world, it could also be that a
1406 ·THE MAN WITHOUT QUALITIES
person appears to us doubled- But you're making me speak nonsense! " she added.
"Imagine two goldfish in a bowl," Ulrich asked.
"No! " Agathe said firmly, but laughing at the same time. ''I'm not going along with any more of this! "
"Please, imagine them! A large bowl in the shape of a ball, as you sometimes see in someone's living room. You can, incidentally, imagine the bowl to be as large as the boundaries of our property. And two red- dish-gold fish, moving their fins slowly up and down like veils. Let's leave aside whether they are really two or one. For each other, at least, they will be two, for the time being; their jealousy over feeding and sex will see to that. They avoid each other, too, whenever they come too near each other. But I can well imagine that for me they can become one: I need only concentrate on this motion that slowly draws in upon itself and unfolds, and then this single shimmering creature becomes merely a dependent part of this common up-and-down motion. Now I ask when this might also happen to them-"
"They're goldfish! " Agathe admonished. "Not a group of dancers suf- fering from supernatural delusions! "
"They are you and I," her brother responded pensively, "and that's why I would like to try to bring the comparison to a proper conclusion. It seems to me a soluble problem to imagine how the world glides past in its separate-but-united motion. It's no different from the world undulat- ing past from a railway car going around curves, except that it happens twice over, so that at every one of the double being's moments, the world occupies two positions, which somehow must coincide in the soul. That means that the idea of getting from one to the other through some motion will never be associated with these double beings; the impres- sion of a distance existing between them will not arise; and more such things. I think I can imagine that one would also manage to be tolerably comfortable in such a world and could doubtless puzzle out in various ways the necessary constitution of the mental tools and procedures needed to make sense of things. " Ulrich stopped for a moment and re- flected. He had become aware of many objections, and the possibility of overcoming them also suggested itself. He smiled guiltily. Then he said: "But ifwe assume that the constitution ofthat other world is the same as ours, the task is much easier! Both hovering creatures will then feel themselves as one without being bothered by the difference in their per- ception and without there being any need of a higher geometry or physi- ology to attain it, as long as you are simply willing to believe that spiritually they are bound to each other more firmly than they are to the world. If anything at all important that they share is infinitely stronger
From the Posthumous Papers · 1407
than the difference of their experiences; if it bridges these differences and doesn't even let them reach awareness; ifthe disturbances reaching them from the world aren't worth being aware of, then it will happen. And a shared suggestion can have this effect; or a sweet indolence and imprecision of the habits of receptiveness, which mix everything up; or a one-sided tension and exaltation that allows only what is desired to get through: one thing, it seems to me, as good as the next-"
Now Agathe laughed at him: "Then why did I have to march through all that precision about the conditions ofportrayal? " she asked.
Ulrich shrugged his shoulders. "It's all interconnected," he answered, falling silent.
He himself knew that with all his efforts he had nowhere made a breach, and their variety confused his recollection. He foresaw that they would repeat themselves. But he was tired. And as the world becomes snugly heavy in the evaporating light and draws all its limbs up to itself, so did Agathe's nearness again force its way physically among his thoughts while his mind was giving up. They had both become accus- tomed to conducting such difficult conversations, and for rather a long time these had already been such a mixture ofthe pulsating power ofthe imagination, and the vain utmost effort of the understanding to secure it, that it was nothing new for either of them at one time to hope for a resolution, at another to allow their own words to rock them to sleep much as one listens to the childishly happy conversation of a fountain, babbling to itself happily about eternity. In this condition Ulrich now belatedly thought of something, and again had recourse to his carefully prepared parable. "It's amazingly simple, but at the same time strange, and I don't know how to present it to you convincingly," he said. "You see that cloud over there in a somewhat different position than I do, and also presumably in a different way; and we've discussed how whatever you see and do and what occurs to you will never be the same as what happens to me and what I do. And we've investigated the question of whether, in spite of that, it still might not be possible to be one being to the ultimate degree, and live as two with one soul. We've measured out all sorts of answers with a compass, but I forgot the simplest: that both people could be minded and able to take everything they experience only as a simile! Just consider that for the understanding every simile is equivocal, but for the emotions it's unequivocal. For someone to whom the world is just a simile could also probably, according to his standards, experience as one thing what according to the world's standards is two. " At this moment the idea also hovered before Ulrich that, in an attitude toward life for which being in one place is merely a metaphor for being in another, even that which cannot be experienced-being one person
1408 · THE MAN WITH0UT QUALITIES
in two hodies wandering about separately-would lose the sting of its impossibility; and he made ready to talk about this further.
But Agathe pointed at the cloud and interrupted him glibly: "Hamlet: 'Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? ' Polonius: 'By th' mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.
