No More Learning

Diotima and Count Leinsdorf stood
nearby in lively, low-voiced conversation. His Grace had, after all, expressed to his friend his amazement at meeting a Prussian on this markedly Austrian occasion. For reasons of discretion, if nothing else, he regarded it as wholly out of the question to let an alien play a leading part in the Parallel Campaign, although Diotima pointed out the splendid and confidence-inspiring impression such freedom from political. egotism would inevitably make abroad. She then changed her tactics, giving her plan a surprising new dimension. She spoke of a woman's tact, an intuitive certainty deeply immune to so- ciety's·prejudices. If His Grace would only listen, just this once, to that voice. Arnheim was a European, an intellectual force known throughout Europe; precisely because he was not an Austrian, his participation would prove that the intellect as such was at home in Austria. Suddenly she came out with the pronouncement that the True Austria was the whole world. The world, she explained, would find no peace until its nations learned to live together on a higher plane, like the Austrian peoples in their Fatherland. A Greater Austria, a Global Austria-that was the idea His Grace had inspired in her at this happy moment-the crowning idea the Parallel Cam- paign had been missing all along!
Irresistible, commanding her pacifist zeal, the beautiful Diotima stood before her noble friend. Count Lei. risdorf could not yet make up his mind to surrender his objections, but he again admired this woman's fiery idealism and breadth of vision, and pondered whether it might not be more advantageous to sound out Amheim first rather than deal on the spot with suggestions of such weighty consequence.
Arnheim was restless, sensing the nature of this conversation yet
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unable to influence it. He and Ulrich were surrounded by the curi- ous, drawn by the presence of this Croesus, and Ulrich was just saying: r
"There are several thousand occupations in which people lose themselves, where they invest all their wits. But ifyou are looking for the universal human element, for what they all have in common, there are really only three possibilities left: stupidity, money, or, at most, some leftover memory of religion. "
"Quite right, religion! " Arnheim broke in emphatically, and asked Ulrich whether he really believed that it had all died out, down to the roots. He had stressed the word "religion" so loudly that Count Leinsdorfwas bound to hear.
His Grace seemed to· have come to terms, meanwhile, with Di- otima, for led by her he now approached the group, which tactfully made way, and addressed Arnheim.
Ulrich suddenly found himself alone, and bit his lip.
He began, for some reason-perhaps to kill time or not to stand there so awkwardly-to think of the drive to this meeting. As a man who moved with the times, Count Leinsdorf, who had brought him along, owned several cars, but inasmuch as he also dung to tradition, he occasionally used a pair of superb chestnut horses that he kept, together with a coachman and a light carriage; so when his major- domo had come for his instructions, His Grace had decided that it would be fitting to drive these two beautiful, almost historical crea- tures to the inaugural meeting of the Parallel Campaign.
"This one is Pepi, and that one is Hans," Count Leinsdorfhad ex- plained on the way, as they watcheo the dancing brown hillocks of the horses' cruppers and now and then one of the nodding heads moving rhythmically sideways so thatthe foam fleW from its mouth. It was hard-to comprehend what was going on inside the animals; it was a beautiful morning and they moved at a fast trot. Perhaps fod- der and speed were the only passions left to horses, since Pepi and Hans were geldings and knew nothing of love as a tangible desire, but only as a breath and a haze that sometimes· veiled their vision of the world with thin, lucent clouds. The passion for fodder was pre- served in a marble manger full of delicious oats, a hayrack full of fresh hay, the sound ofthe stable halter rubbing on its ring, and, con- centrated in the warm, steamy stable smell, a, spicy, steady aroma
needled with the ammonia-charged strong sense of self: Here are horses! Speed was something else again. In this, the poor soul is still bound to the herd, where motion suddenly takes possession of the lead st8llion, or all of them together, and the lot of them goes gallop- ing off into the wind and the sun; for when the animal is alone and free to charge offto all four points ofthe compass, often a mad shud- der will run through its skull and it will go storming off aimlessly, plunging into a terrible freedom as empty in one <lirection as an- other, until it comes to a bewildered halt and can be lured back with a bucket of oats. Pepi and Hans were well-trained· horses, used to running in harness; they movwd forward eagerly, their hooves beat- ing the sunny street fenced in by houses. People were gray swarms for them, causing them neither joy nor fear; the bright window dis- plays, the women parading in their colorful finery-patches of meadow no good for grazing; hats, neckties, books, diamonds along the street: a desert. Only the two dream-islands of stable and trotting rose up, and sometimes, as though in a dream or in play, Hans and Pepi shied at a shadow, pressed against the shafts, were revived by a flick of the whip, and leaned gratefully into the reins.
Suddenly Count Leinsdorfhad sat up straight in the cushions and asked Ulrich: "Stallburg tells me, Herr Doktor, that you are taking an interest in someone? " Ulrich was so taken by surprise that he did not immediately grasp the connection, and Leinsdorf went on: "Very good of you. I know all about it. I'm afraid there's not much to be done-such a terrible fellow. But that intangible personal something in need of grace, which every Christian has in him, often shows itself in just such an individual. And when a man sets out to do something great, he should think most humbly of the helpless. Perhaps this fel- low can be given another physical examination. "
After Count Leinsdorf had delivered himself of this long speech, sitting upright in the jolting carriage, ·he let himself drop back into the upholstery and added: "But we cannot forget that at this moment we owe all our energies to the realization of a historic event! "
Ulrich really felt a liking for this nai've old aristocrat, who was standing there still talking with Diotima and Arnheim, and felt al- most a twinge ofjealousy. For the conversation seemed to be quite lively; Diotima was smiling; Count Leinsdorf's eyes were popping with alarm as he tried to follow Amheim, who was holding forth with
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noble composure. Ulrich caught the phrase "bringing ideas into the spheres of power. " He could not stand Arnheim, simply as a model of existence, on principle. This combination of intellect, business; good living, and learning was absolutely insufferable. He was con- vinced that Arnheim had organized everything the previous evening so that he would be neither the first nor the last to arrive at the ses- sion this morning; and yet he had certainly not looked at his watch before he left home but had probably done so for the last time before sitting down to breakfast and receiving the report of his secretlli)', who had handed him the mail; then he had transformed the time at his disposal into the precise amount of mental activity he intended to do before he had to leave, and when he dispassionately gave himself up to that activity, he was certain·it would fill up the time exactly; for the right thing and . the time it takes are mysteriously connected, like a sculpture and the space it inhabits; or a javelin thrower and the target he hits without looking at it. Ulrich had already heard a great deal about Amheim and had read some of his works. In one of them, Arnheim had written that a man who inspects his suit in the mirror is incapable of fearless conduct, because the mirror, originally created to give pleasure-as Arnheim explained it-had become an instru- ment of anxiety, like the clock, which is a substitute for the fact that our activities no longer follow a natural sequence.
Ulrich had to force himself to look away in order not to be seen staring rudely at the nearby group, and his eyes came to rest on the little maid who was moving about among the chatting groups, offer_. ing refreshments with respectful glances. But little Rachel did not notice him; she had forgotten him and even neglected to bring her tray over to him. She was approaching Arnheim and presenting her refreshments to him as to a god; she longed to kiss the shorj:, ·master- ful hand that reached out for the lemonade and held the glass ab- senttnindedly, without the nabob's taking a sip. Once this high point was passed she continued on her rounds like a dazed ~ttle robot and made her way as quickly as she could out of this world-historical room, where everything was filled with legs and talk, back into the hall again.
44
CONTINUA TION AND CONCLUSION OF THE GREAT SESSION. ULRICH TAKES A LIKING TO RACHEL, AND RACHEL TO SOLIMAN. THE PARALLEL CAMPAIGN GETS ORGANIZED
Ulrich liked girls like this: ambitious, well-behaved, in their well- trained timidity like little fruit trees whose sweet ripe fruit is des- tined to fall one day into the mouth of some young knight of Cockaigne as soon as he deigns to open his lips. ''They have to be brave and tough," he thought, "like Stone Age women who shared their hunter's bed by night and carried his weapons and household gear on marches by day," although he himself had never gone on such an expedition except in the distant prehistoric age of his awak- ening manhood. With a sigh he sat down again, for the session had resumed. In remembering, he was struck that the black-and-white vestments one put on these maids were the same colors as nuns' h_ab- its; this had never occurred to him before, and he wondered at it. But the divine Diotima was speaking again, saying that the Parallel Cam- paign must culminate in a great symbol. That meant that it would not do to have just any sort of goal, no matter how widely visible, no mat- ter how patriotic. This goal would have to seize the heart of the' world. It could not be just practical, it also had to be a poem. It had to be a landmark. It had to be a mirror in which the world would see itself and blush. And not just blush but, as in a fairy tale, see its own true countenance and never again be able to forget it. His Grace had suggested for this symhoi "Emperor of Peace. "
This being the premise, there could be no mistaking that the suggestions considered thus far had been wide of the mark, Diotima went on. When she spoke of symbols earlier in the meeting, she had naturally meant not soup kitchens but that nothing less was at stake than the need to recover that unity of mankind that had been lost because the disparity of interests in society had grown so great. The
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question arises whether at the present time the peoples of today are still at all capable of such great, unifying ide. as? All the suggestions made so far were splendid, of course, but they diverged so widely, which already showed that none of them had unifying power.
As she spoke, Ulrich was watching Arnheim. His dislike did not attach its~lfto any particular details of that physiognomy but quite simply to the totality. Not that the individual features-the industrial baron's hard Phoenician skull, the sharp face that seemed to be formed of too little material, so that it had a certain flatness, the lordly, English-tailor repbse of the figure, and, at the second place where a man peeks out of his suit, the rather too-short-fingered hands-were not in themselves sufficiently noteworthy. What ir" ritated Ulrich was the harmony in which all of this coexisted. Arn- heim's books also had the same kind ofself-assurance; the world was in order, as soon as Arnheim had given it his due consideration. As he sat watching Arnheim being so dramatically attentive to the foolish- ness they were having to sit through, Ulrich suddenly felt a slum kid's impulse to throw rocks or mud at this man who had grown up in all that wealth and perfection. Arnheim was drinking it all in like a con- noisseur whose face says: Without going overboard, I must say this is a noble vintage!
Diotima had now come to the end of her speech. Right after the intermission, when they had all sat down again, everyone had looked confident that something conclusive was about to occur. Nobody had given it any real thought, but they all had that look of waiting for something important to happen. And now Diotima concluded: So when the question imposed itselfwhether the present time and the peoples of today's world were at all capable of such great, unifying ideas, . it was necessary and proper to add: The idea of the power to redeem. For it was a question of redemption, of a redeeming up- surge. In short: even if we could not yet imagine it in any detail. It must come out of the total community, or it would not come at all. And so she would take it upon herself, after having consulted with His Grace, to conclude today's meeting with the following proposal: As His Grace had rightly observed, the august ministerial depart- ments already represented a division of the world in accordance with its main aspects, such as religion and education, commerce, industry, law, and so on. Ifthose present would therefore agree to set up com-
mittees, each headed by a delegate from a government department, with representatives of the respective institutions and sectors of the population at his side, the resulting organization would already em- body the major moral forces of the world in their proper order and would serve as an instrument through which these forces could flow in and be filtered. The final determination would be made by an ex- ecutive committee, and the entire structure would then need only several special committees and subcommittees, such as a publicity committee, a fund-raising committee, and the like, while she would like to reserve to herself personally the forming of a special commit- tee for the further elaboration of the campaign's fundamental ideas, of course in constant cooperati~nwith all the other committees.
Again there was a general silence, but this time of palpable relief. Count Leinsdorf nodded his head several times. Someone asked as a point of further clarification how the specifically Austrian note would come into the campaign as thus conceived.
In response to this question, General Stumm von Bordwehr rose to speak, even though all the preceding speakers had remained seated. He was well aware, he said, that the. soldier's role in the coun- cil chamber was a modest one. Ifhe spoke nevertheless, it was not to inject his own opinion into the unsurpassable critical remarks and suggestions already made, all of them excellent, but only to offer one more idea at the end, for everyone's indulgent consideration. The planned demonstration was intended to impress the outside world. But what impressed the outside world was the power of a people. And in view of the present situation in the European family of na- tions, as His Grace had said, a demonstration of this kind would cer- tainly not be pointless. The idea of the state was, after all, the idea of power; as Treitschke said, the state is the power of self-preservation in the struggle for national survival. The general was only touching on a well-known sore spot in mentioning the condition of our artil- lery and our navy, both in unsatisfactory condition owing to the apa- thy of Parliament. Which is why he hoped they would consider, in case no other goal should be found, which was still an open question, that a broadly based popular concern with the problems of the army and its equipment would be a decidedly worthy aim. Si vis pacem, para bellum/ Strength in peace wards off war, or at least shortens its span. He could therefore confidently maintain that
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steps taken in that direction would have a conciliatory effect on other nations and would make for an impressive demonstration of peace- able intentions.
At this moment there was a curious feeling in the room. Most of those present had at first felt that this speech was not in keeping with the meeting's real purpose, but as the General became more domi- nant acoustically, the effect on his listeners was like the reassuring tramp ofwell-ordered battalions. The original impulse of the Parallel Campaign, "Better than Prussia," shyly raised its head, as though some distant regimental band were trumpeting the march about Prince Eugene riding against the Turks, or the anthem "God Save the Emperor," . . . though ofcourse ifHis Grace had now stood up to propose-as he was far from intending to do-that they should put their Prussian brother Amheim at the head of the regimental band, they might have believed, in the state of vague exaltation in whic~ they found themselves, that they were hearing the Prussian anthem instead, and would hardly have been able to object.
At the keyhole, "Rachelle" reported: "Now they're talking about war. "
Her quick return to the hall at the end of the intermission owed a little to the fact that this time Amheim had actually brought Soliman in his wake. As bad weather was threatening, the little African boy had followed his master, carrying an overcoat. When Rachel opened the door he had made an impudent face, since he was a spoiled young Berliner who was used to women fussing over him in a way he had not yet learned to take advantage of. But Rachel had assumed that he must be spoken tq in his native African language; it simply never occurred to her to try German. Since she absolutely had to make herself understood, she had put her arm around the sixteen- year-old's shoulder and pointed the way to the kitchen, where she gave him a chair and pushed in front of him whatever cakes and drinks were within reach. She had never done this sort ofthing in her life, and when she straightened up from the table her heart was pounding like sugar being pulverized in a mortar.
'What's your name? " Soliman asked; so he spoke Germani "Rachelle, Rachel," she said, and ran off.
In the kitchen, Soliman made the most of the cake, wine, and hors
d'oeuvres, lit a cigarette, and started a conversation with the cook.
Seeing this when she came back from waiting on the guests gave Ra- chel a stab.
"In there," she said, "they'll be talking about something very im- portant again any minute now. "
But Soliman was not impressed, and the cook, an older woman, laughed.
"It might even mean war! " Rachel added excitedly-and was able to cap this a little later with her news from the keyhole that it had almost reached that point.
Soliman pricked up his ears. "Are there any Austrian generals in there? " pe asked.
"See for yourself," Rachel said. "There's one, at least. " And they went together to the keyhole.
Their glance fell now on some white paper, then on a nose; a big shadow passed by, a ring flashed. Life broke up into bright details. Green baize stretching away like a lawn; a white hand at rest some- where, without a context, pale as in a waxworks; peering in slantwise, one could see the golden tassel of the General's sword gleaming in a comer. Even the pampered Soliman showed some excitement. Seen through the crack of a door and an imagination, life swelled to weird and fairy-tale dimensions. The stooping position made the blood buzz in one's ears, and the voices behind the door now rumbled like falling rocks, now glided as on greased planks. Rachel slowly straight- ened up. The floor seemed to heave under her feet; she was en- veloped by the spirit of the occasion as though she had put her head under one of those black cloths used by conjurors and photogra- phers. Soliman stood up too, and the blood drained fluttering from their heads. The little black boy smiled, and behind his bluish lips his scarlet gums shimmered.
While this instant in the hall, among the hanging overcoats of in- fluential personages, faded slowly like a bugle call, a resolution was being passed in the conference room after Count Leinsdorf had thanked the General for his important and valuable suggestions, though the time had not yet come for examining proposals on their merits, as the organizational groundwork must be laid first. To this end, all that was needed now-apart from suiting the plan to the realities as represented by the ministries-was a final resolution to the effect that those present had unanimously agreed to submit the
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wishes of the people, as soon as these could be determined by the Parallel Campaign, to His Majesty, with the most humble petition to be allowed to dispose freely of the means for their material fulfill- ment (which would have to be raised by then) if such were His Maj- esty's most gracious pleasure.
This had the advantage that the people would be placed in the po- sition of setting the worthiest possible aim for themselves, but through the agency of the Sovereign's most gracious will. The resolu- tion was passed at His Grace's special request; for although it was only a matter of form, he considered it important that the people not take action on their own and without the consent of constitutional authority-not even to honor it.
The other participants would not have made such a point of this, but by the same token they had no objection to it. And it was in order, too, that the meeting should end. with the passing of a resolu- tion. For whether one set~ a final period to a brawl with a knife, or ends a musical piece by crashing all ten fingers simultaneously down on the keyboard a few times, or whether the dancer bows to his lady, or whether one passes a resolution, it would be an uncanny world if events simply slunk off, if there were not a final ceremony to assure that they had indeed taken place. And that is why it is done.
45
SILENT ENCOUNTER OF TWO MOUNTAIN PEAKS
When the session was over, Arnheim had quietly maneuvered, at a hint from Diotima, to be left behind, alone. Section ChiefTuzzi was observing a respectful margin of time to be sure of not retUrning home before the end of the session.
In these minutes between the departure of the guests and the set- tling down ofthe house, as her passage from room to room was inter-
rupted by brief, sometimes conflicting, orders, considerations, and the general unrest that a fading great event leaves behind, Arnheim smiled as his eyes followed Diotima's movements. She felt that her domicile was in a state of tremulous movement; all the things that had had to abandon their customary places because of the great event returned piece by piece, like a big wave ebbing from the sand in countless little hollowS and runnels. While Arnheim waited in ur- bane silence until she and the commotion around her settled down again, it struck Diotima that no matter how many people had gone in and out ofher house, no man-other than Section ChiefTuzzi-had ever been so domestically ·alone with her that one palpably felt the mute life of the empty apartment. And suddenly her chaste mind was troubled by a bizarre notion: her empty apartment, in the absence of even her husband, seemed like a pair of trousers Arnheim had just slipped into. There are such moments, when chastity itself may be visited by such abortive flashes from the pit of darkness, and so the wonderful dream of a love in which body and soul are entirely one bloomed in Diotima.
Arnheim had no inkling of this. His trousers made an impeccably perpendicular line to the gleaming parquet; his momingcoat, his cra- vat, his serenely smilirig patrician head, said nothing, so perfect were they. Actually, he had intended to complain to Diotima ·about the incident on his arrival, to make sure that no such thing happened in future. But there was at this moment something that made this man, who hobnobbed with American money magnates as an equal, who had been received by emperors and k;ings, this nabob who could offer any woman her weight in platinum, something that made him, instead ofcomplaining, stare entranced at Diotima, whose name was really Ermelinda, or actually only Hermine Tuzzi, the mere wife of a ranking official. For this something it is here once again necessary to resort to the word "soul. "
The word has already turned up more than once, though not in the clearest contexts; as, for instance, something lost in our time, or in- compatible with civilization; as something at odds with physical urges and connubial habits; something that is moved, and not only to re- pugnance, by a murderer; something that was to be liberated by the Parallel Campaign; as a subject for religious meditations and contem- platio in caligtne divina by Count Leinsdorf; as, with many people, a
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love ofmetaphor; and so'on. The most peculiarofall the peculiarities of the word "soul," however, is that young people cannot pronounce it without laughing. Even Diotima and Amheim were shy of using it without a modifier, for it is still possible to speak of having a great, noble, craven, daring, or debased soul, but to come right out with "my soul" is something one simply cannot bring eneself to do. It is distinctly an older person's word, and this can only be understood by assuming that in the course of life people become more and more aware of something for which they urgently need a name they cannot find until they finally resort, reluctantly, to the name they had origi- nally despised.
How to describe it, then? Whether one is ~trest or in motion, what matters is not what lies ahead, what one sees, hears, wants, takes, masters. It forms a horizon, a semicircle before one, but the ends of this semicircle are joined by a string, and the plane of this string goes right through·the middle of the world. In front, the face and hands look out of it; sensations and strivings run ahead of it, and no one doubts that whatever one does·is always reasonable, or at least pas- sionate. In other words, outer circumstances call for us to act in a way everyone can understand; and if, in the toils of passion, we do some- thing incomprehensible, that too is, in its oWii way, understandable. Yet however understandable and self~contained everything seems, this is accompanied by an obscure feeling that it is only half the story. Something is not quite in balance, and a person presses forward, lik-e a tightrope walker, in order not to sway and fall. And as he presses on through life and leaves lived life behind, the life ahead and the life already lived form a wall, and his path in the end resembles the path
of a woodworm: no matter how it corkscrews forward or even back- ward, it always leaves an empty space behind it. And this horrible feeling of a blind, cutoff space . behind the fullness of everything, this half that is . always missing even when everything is a whole, this is what eventually makes one perceive what one calls the soul.
We always include it, of course, in our thoughts, intuitions, feel- ings, in all sorts of surrogate ways and according to our individual temperament. In youth it manifests itself as a distinct feeling of in- security about whether everything one does is really the right thing, after all; in old age as a sense ofwonder at how little one has done of
all one had really meant to do. In between, one takes comfort in the thought that one is a hell ofa good, capable fellow, even ifevery little thing can't be justified; or that the world is not the way it ought to'be either, so that one's failures come to represent a fair enough compro- mise. Then there are always sorrie people who think beyond all this of a God who has their missing piece in His pocket. Only love has a special position in this; in this exceptional case the missing halfgrows back: the beloved seems to stand where ordinarily something was al- ways missing. The souls unite "dos-a-dos," as it were, making them- selves superfluous in the process. This is why most people, after the one great love in their youth is over, no longer feel the absence of their soul, so that this so-called foolishness fulfills a useful social function.
Neither Diotima nor Amheim had ever loved. We already know this about Diotima, but the great financier also had, in a wider sense, a chaste soul. He had always been afraid that the feelings he aroused in women might not be for himself but for his money, and so he lived only with women to whom he also gave, not love, but money. He had never had a friend for fear of being used; he had only business friends, even if the business happened to be an intel- lectual exchange. This shrewd man, although imbued with experi- ence of life, was still untouched and in danger of being permanently alone when he met Diotima, whom destiny· had in- tended for him. The mysterious forces within them converged. It could be compared only with the movement of the trade winds, the Gulf Stream, the volcanic tremors of the earth's crust; forces vastly superior to those of man, akin to the stars, were set in motion from one to the other, overriding such barriers as hours and days, meas- ureless currents. At such moments the actual words spoken are su- premely unimportant. Rising from the vertical creases of his trousers, Amheim's body seemed to stand there in the godlike soli- tude of a towering mountain. United with him through the valley between them, Diotima rose on its other side, luminous with soli- tude, in her fashionable dress of the period with its puffed sleeves on the upper arms, the artful pleats over the bosom widening
above the stomach, the skirt narrowing agairi below the knees to cling to her calves. The·glass-bead curtains at the doors cast mov-
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ing reflections like ponds, the javelins and arrows on the walls trembled with their feathered and deadly passions, and the yellow volumes of Caiman-Levy on the tables were as silent as lemon groves. We will reverently pass over the first words spoken.
IDEALS AND MORALITY ARE THE BEST MEANS FOR FILLING THAT BIG HOLE CALLED SOUL
Amheim was the frrst to shake off the spell.
To linger in such a state was, to his way of thinking, impossible, without either sinking into a dull, vacuous, lethargic brooding or else foisting on one's devotion a solid framework ofideas and convictions that could not but distort its nature.
This method, which admittedly kills the soul but then, so to speak, preserves it for general consumption by canning it in small quanti- ties, has always been its bridge to rational thought, convictions, and practical action, in their successful conduct ofall moralities, philoso- phies, and religions. God knows, as we have already said, what a soul is anyway. There can be no doubt whatsoever that the burning desire to obey only the call of one's soul leaves infinite scope for action, a true state of anarchy, and there are cases of chemically pure souls actually committing crimes. But the minute a soul has morals, reli- gion, philosophy, a well-grounded middle-class education, ideals in the spheres of duty and beauty, it has been equipped With a system of rules, conditions, and directives that it must obey before it can think ofbeing a respectable soul, and its heat, like that ofa blast furnace, is directed into orderly rectangles ofsand. All that remains are only log- ical problems ofinterpretation, such as whether an action falls under this or that commandment, and the soul presents the tranquil pano- rama of a battlefield after the fact, where the dead lie still and one can see at once where a scrap oflife still moves or groans. Which is
why we cross that bridge as quickly as we can. Ifa person is plagued by religious doubts, as many are in their youth, he takes to persecut- ing unbelievers; if troubled by love, he turns it intq marriage; and when overcome by some other enthusiasm, he takes refuge from the impossibility of living constantly in its frre by beginning to live for that fire. That is, he fills the many moments ofhis day, each ofwhich needs a content and an impetus, not with his ideal state but with the many ways of achieving it by overcoming obsblcles and incidents- which guarantees that he will never need to attain it. For only fools, fanatics, and mental cases can stand living at the highest pitch of soul; a sane person must be content with declaring that life would not be worth living without a spark of that mysterious fire.
Amheim's life was filled to the brim with activity. He was a realist and had listened with an indulgent smile and not without apprecia- tion for the good form shown by these representatives ofthe old Aus- trian tradition in the session . he witnessed as they spoke of an Imperial Franz-Josef Soup Kitchen and the link between duty and military marches. He was far from making fun of it, as Ulrich had done, for he was convinced that it took far less courage and superior- ity to pursue great ideas than to recognize the touching kernel of ide- alism in such average, slightly absurd people of good appearance.
But when in the midst of all this, Diotima, this classical beauty with a Viennese plus, uttered her term "Global Austria," a phraSe as hot and almost as incomprehensible to the human mind as a flame, something had seized his heart.
There was a story told about him that he had in his Berlin house a splendid room full of Baroque and Gothic sculptures. As it happens, the Catholic Church (for which Arnheim had a great love) depicts its saints and standard-bearers ofGoodness mostly in poses ofjoy, ev~n ecstasy. Here were saints dying in all kinds of postures, with the soul wringing out the body as if it were squeezing water out of a piece of laundry. All those gestures of arms crossed like sabers, of twisted necks, taken from their original surroundings and brought together in an alien space, gave the impression of a catatonics' ward in a luna- tic asylum.
This collection was highly esteemed and brought many art histori- ans to Amheim, with whom he conversed knowledgeably; but often he sat alone and lonely in his gallery, with a quite different feeling, a
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kind of horrified amazement, as though he were looking at a half- demented world. He felt how morality had once glowed with an inef- fable fire, but now even a mind like his own could do no more than stare into the burned-out clinkers. This dark vision of what all reli- gions and myths express in the tale of commandments given origi- nally to men by the gods, this intuition of a pristine state of the soul, somewhat uncanny and yet presumably pleasing to the gods, formed a strange fringe of uneasiness around the otherwise complacent ex- panse of his thoughts. Amheim also had an assistant gardener, a sim- ple but deep man, as Amheim put it, with whom he often talked about the life of the flowers because one can learn more from such a man than from the experts. Until one day Amheim discovered that· this gardener's helper was stealing from him. It seems that he made off with everything he could lay his hands on, in a kind of despera- tion, saving the proceeds to set up on his own; this was the one idea that obsessed him day and night. But one day a small sculpture disap- peared, and the police who were called in exposed the whole opera- tion. The evening Arnheim was infoimed ofthis, he sent for the man and reproached him all night long for having allowed his passionate acquisitiveness to lead him astray. · It was said that he was extremely upset himself and at times carne close to weeping in a dark adjoining room. For he envied this man, for reasons he could not explain to himself. The next morning, he had the police take him away.
This story was confirmed by close friends of Amheim's. Now, standing alone with Diotima in this room, he felt rather as he had felt then, sensing something like the soundless flames of the world leap- ing all around them along its four walls.
47
WHAT ALL OTHERS ARE SEPARATELY, ARNHEIM IS ROLLED INTO ONE
In the following weeks Diotima's salon experienced a tremendous upsurge. People came to hear the latest news of the Parallel Cam- paign and to see the new man Diotima Was reported to have pre- scribed for herself: variously, a German nabob, a rich Jew, and an eccentric who wrote poetry, dictated the price of coal, and was the German Kaiser's personal friend. It was not only the highborn ladies and gentlemen from Count Leinsdorf's world and diplomatic circles who came; the upper-middle-class figures who controlled the econ- omy and led the world of culture seemed also increasingly attracted. And so specialists in the Ewe language and composers who had never heard a note of one another's music ran into one another here, shooting box met confessional box, and people to whom the word "course" meant the race course, the course of the stock exchange, or a university course.
And now something unheard of came to pass: there was a man who could speak with everyone in their own language, and that man wasAmheim.
Mter the embarrassment he had suffered at the beginning of the first meeting he held himself aloof from the official sessions, nor did he attend all the social gatherings, as he was often out oftown. There was, of course, no further mention of the secretarial post; he had himself explained to Diotima that this idea could not be acceptable to the other side, and she yielded to Amheim's judgment, although she could never look at Ulrich without regarding him as a usurper. Amheim came and went. Three or five days would pass in a flash, he would be back from Paris, Rome, Berlin; what was going on at Di- otima's was only a small slice of his life. But he favored it, and took part in it with all his energy.
That he could discuss industry with industrial giants and the econ- omy with bankers was to be expected, but he could also chat just as
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freely about molecular physics, mysticism, and pigeon shooting. He was an extraordinary talker; once he was off, he never stopped, like a book one cannot close until everything in it demanding utterance has been said. But he had a quietly dignified, fluent manner of speaking, with a touch of sadness about it like a stream overhung by dark bushes, and this gave the flow of his words an air of necessity. His reading and his memory were of truly extraordinary compass; he could give experts the subtlest cues in their own fields, but he also knew every person of note in the English, French, and Japanese no- bility, and was at home at racetracks and golf links not only in Europe but in Australia and America as well. So even the chamois hunters, champion horsemen, and holders of boxes at the Imperial Theater, who had come to see a crazy rich Jew (something a little different, as they put it), left Diotima's house shaking their heads with respect.
His Grace once took Ulrich aside and said to him:
"You know, our ducal houses have had bad luck with their tutors these last hundred years. They used to get the kind of people many of whom would later get into the encyclopedia, and these tutors would bring along music masters and drawing masters who showed their appreciation by creating things we now refer to as our old culture. But ever since we have had the new, universal education, and people from my own circles-forgive me-go in for academic degrees, our tutors have somehow fallen off. Our sons are quite right, of course, to shoot pheasant and boar, ride, and chase pretty girls-there's little to be said against that if one is young. But in the old days, it was the tutors who channeled part of that youthful energy into the necessity of cultivating the mind and the arts as well as the pheasants, and this no longer happens. "
It was only an idea that just crossed His Grace's mind, as such things did from time to time; suddenly. he turned to face Ulrich and concluded: "You see, it was that fateful year 1848 that drove a wedge between the middle class and the aristocracy, to the loss of both sides. " He looked at the assembled company with concern. He was irked every time the opposition speakers in Parliament boasted of culture as middle class; he would have liked true middle-class culture to be found in the aristocracy, but the poor aristocracy could see nothing in it; it was a weapon invisible to them with which they were being trounced, and since they had been increasingly losing power
all along, there was finally nothing left for them to do but come to Diotima's and see the thing for themselves. Count Leinsdorf some- times felt this way with a heavy heart as he observed the hubbub, wishing that the high office this house had been given the opportu- nity to serve were taken more seriously.
"Excellency, the middle class is having exactly the same experi- ence with the intellectuals now as the high nobility had with its tutors then," Ulrich tried to comfort him. "They don't know what to make of them. Just look at all these people gaping at Dr. Amheim. "
But all along Count Leinsdorf had only been looking at Arnheim anyway.
"That's no longer intellect," Ulrich said, explaining the general amazement, "it is a phenomenon like a rainbow with a foot you can take hold of and actually feel. He talks about love and economics, chemistry and trips in kayaks; he is a scholar, a landowner, and a stockbroker; in short, what the rest of us are separately, he is rolled into one; of course we're amazed. You shake your head, Excellency? But I'm convinced the cloud of so-called temporal progress, into which no one of us can see, has set him down on the parquet in our midst. ':
"I was not shaking my head over you," His Grace elucidated. "I was thinking of Dr. Arnheim. All in all, one has to admit he's an inter- esting figure. "
THE THREE CAUSES OF ARNHEIM'S FAME AND THE MYSTERY OF THE WHOLE
But that was simply the way Arnheim usually affected people.
He was a man of stature.
His activity spread over terrestrial continents and continents of
knowledge. He knew everything: philosophers, economics, music,
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the world, sports. He expressed himself fluently in five languages. The world's most famous artists were his friends, and he bought the art of tomorrow when it was still green on the vine, at prices that were not yet inflated. He was received at the Imperial Court and knew how to talk with worke~. He owned a villa in the latest style, which appeared in photographs in all the publications on contempo- rary architecture, and also, somewhere in the sandiest wastes of Prussia, a ramshackle old castle that actually looked like the decom- posed cradle of Prussian chauvinism.
Such expansiveness and receptivity are seldom accompanied by personal achievement; but in this respect, too, Arnheim was an ex- ception. Once or twice a year he secluded himself on his country es- tate and there wrote down the experiences of his intellectual life. The~e books and articles, by now quite an imposing number of them, were widely read, enjoyed large printings, and were translated into many languages. A sick physician inspires no confidence, but when a man who has known how to do so well for himself speaks, there must be something in it. This was the first source of Arnheim's fame.
The second had its origin in the nature of science and scholarship. We hold knowledge in high esteem, and rightly so. But though a man's life may be completely filled by research into the functioning of the kidneys, there will be moments, humanistic moments, so to speak, when he may ponder the relationship between the kidneys and his country. This is why Goethe is so widely quoted in Germany. But when a scholar wants to show expressly that he is not only a man of learning but also possesses a lively mind with an interest in the future, he will do well to show himself acquainted with works it not only does him credifto know but promises to bring even more credit in the future-like a stock appreciating in value with time-and in such cases quotations from Paul Arnheim were enjoying increasing popularity. His excursions into scientific areas for support of his gen- eral views did not, it is true, always satisfy the strictest criteria; while they showed an easy command of the literature, the specialist would invariably fmd in them those little slips and misconceptions that be- tray the dilettante, just as surely as the stitching of a single seam be- trays the homemade dress as compared with the product of the couturier's studio. But one should by no means think that this pre- vented the specialists from admiring Arnheim. They smiled compla-
cently; he impressed them as a true product of the new age, a man whose name was in all the newspapers, an economic king, a man whose intellectual achievements, at least compared with those of earlier kings, were astonishing; and if they might be allowed to note that in their own sphere they represented something considerably different from him, they nevertheless showed their appreciation by calling him a brilliant man, a man of genius, or, quite simply, a uni- versal man, which among specialists amounts to the same thing as when men say to each other of a woman that she is a woman's idea of a beauty.
The third source of Amheim's fame was economics. He managed not at all badly with the old salts, the seasoned captains of industry; in a big deal, he could outsmart the craftiest of them. They did not re- gard him as much of a businessman, in any case, and called him the "Crown Prince," to distinguish him from his father, whose short, thick tongue was not so adroit in conversation but made up for it by picking up the flavor of a good business deal at whatever distance and by the subtlest chemistry. Him they feared, and revered, but when they heard of the philosophical demands the Crown Prince made on the business class, which he would weave even into the most matter-of-fact discussions, they smiled. He was notorious for quoting poets at board meetings, and for insisting that the economy could not be separated from other human activities and could be dealt with only within the larger context of all vital problems, na- tional, intellectual, and even spiritual.
But even while they smiled at this sort of thing, they could not quite overlook that precisely by adding such frills to business, Arn- heim junior was cutting an increasingly important figure in public opinion. News of him would tum up now in the financial, now in the political, now in the literary and art columns of leading newspapers throughout the world, whether it was a review of a work from his pen, the report of a notable speech he had given somewhere, or no- tice of his reception by some ruler or art association, until there was no man in the circle of industrial movers and shakers, who operate in silence and behind double-locked doors, as much talked about out- side that circle as' he was. All these presidents, board chairmen, di- rectors, top managers, heads of banks, corporations, mine works, shipping companies, are by no means, in their hearts, the e. vil
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manipulators they are often represented to be. Apart from their highly developed sense of family, the inner rationale of their lives is that of money, and that is a rationale with very sound teeth and a healthy appetite. They were all convinced that the world would be much better off if left to the free play of supply and demand rather than to annored warships, bayonets, potentates, and diplomats igno- rant of economics. But the world being what it is, with its ingrained prejudice against a life dedicated primarily to its own self-interest and only secondarily to the public good, and its preference for chiv- alry, public-spiritedness, and public missions above private enter- prise, these magnates were the last people in the world to leave this out of their calculations, and they energetically made use of the ad- vantages offered to the public good through customs negotiations backed by anned force, or the use of the military against strikers. On this road, however, business leads directly to philosophy, for nowa- days only criminals dare to hann others without philosophy, and so they accustomed themselves to regarding Arnheim junior as a kind of papal legate for their affairs. Despite the irony with which they were always ready to regard his tendencies, they were pleased to have in him a man who could take their case as readily before a conclave of bishops as to a sociological conference; ultimately he won influence over them like a beautiful and cultivated wife who regards her hus- band's everlasting office work as a bore but is useful to the business because everyone admires her. Now, beyond this one need only imagine the effect of Maeterlinckian or Bergsonian philosophy ap- plied to questions about the price of coal or to cartel politics, to esti- mate how depressing Arnheim junior's presence could be to industrialists' conferences and directors' meetings in Paris or St. P~­ tersburg or Cape Town when he turned up as his father's ambassa- dor and had to be heard out from beginning to end. His resulting successes in business were as impressive as they were mysterious, and out of all this grew the well-known report of the man's towering stature and his lucky hand. ·
A good deal more could be said about Arnheim's successes. With diplomats, for instance, who handled the important but alien field of economics with the circumspection of men charge'd with the care of an unpredictable elephant, while Amheim treated it with the non-
chalance of a native keeper. With artists, for whom he hardly ever did anything, which did not prevent them. from seeing him as a Mae- cenas. And lastly with journalists, who should in all fairness have been the first to be mentioned, because it was they who through their admiration had first created Arnheim's image as a great man, though they did not realize how much he was their own creation; for someone had whispered in the~r ear and they consequently believed they could hear the grass of history growing. The basic pattern of his success was everywhere the same: Surrounded by the magic aura of his wealth and the legend of his importance, he always had to deal with people who towered over him in their own fields but who liked him as an outsider with a surprising knowledge of their subject and were daunted by his personally representing a link between their world and other worlds of which they had no idea. So it had come to seem quite natural for him to appear in a world of specialists as a whole man, and to have the effect ofa harmonious entity. At times he dreamed of a new Weimar or Florentine renaissance of industry and trade, a new prosperity under the leadership of strong personalities, each of whom would have to be capable of combining individual achievements in technology, science, and the arts, and able to guide them from the highest standpoint. He felt he had this capacity. He possessed the gift of never being superior in any specific, provable respect but, owing to some fluid, perpetually self-renewing equilib- rium, of still coming out on top in every situation. It was probably the fundamental talent of a politician, but Arnheim was also convinced that it was a profound mystery. He called it "the Mystery of the Whole. " For even the beauty of a person consists of almost nothing demonstrable, or any specific feature, but rather that ~agical some- thing that makes, even small defects useful, just as the profound goodness and love, the dignity and greatness, of a person are almost independent ofwhat he does, are indeed capable ofennobling every- thing he does. In this life, in some mysterious fashion, the whole al- ways takes precedence over its parts. While ordinary people may indeed be the sum oftheir virtues and faults, the great man is he who first bestows rank on his qualities. And if the secret of his success is that it cannot quite be explained as the result of his achievements and his qualities, then the presence of a force greater than its mani-
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festations is the mystery upon which all greatness in life rests. This is how Arnheim had phrased it in one ofhis books, and as he set down these words he ahnost felt that he had touched the hem of the super- natural, and this, too, he allowed to shine through in the text.
49
ANTAGONISM SPROUTS BETWEEN THE OLD AND THE NEW DIPLOMACY
His association with persons whose specialty was to have been born to the hereditary nobility constituted no exception. Arnheim so muted his own high distinction, so modestly laid claim only to a cer- tain intellectual nobility, which knows its own merits and limits, that beside him the bearers of the most venerable noble names seemed after a while to be bowed down under their burden like gnarled la- borers. It was Diotima who appreciated this most keenly. She recog- nized the Mystery of the Whole with th~eye of an artist who sees the dream ofhis life realized in an unswpassable way.
She was now wholly reconciled to her salon again. Arnheim warned her against putting too much emphasis on formal organiza- tion; crude material interests would take over, stifling the original pure intention; he preferred keeping the salon as it was.
Section Chief Tuzzi, on the other hand, expressed his misgivings that this would never get them beyond endless floods of talk.
He had crossed one leg over the other and clasped one knee with his heavily veined, lean, dark hands. Next to Amheim, who sat up- right in a flawlessly cut suit of some soft fabric, Tuzzi, with his trim little beard and southern eyes, looked like a Levantine pickpocket beside a Hanseatic merchant prince. It was an encounter between two kinds of distinction, and the Austrian, a mosaic of highly cul- tivated cosmopolitanism, with its casual dash, certainly did not re- gard itself as the lesser. Section ChiefTuzzi had an engaging manner
of asking how the Parallel Campaign was ·coming along, as though he was not supposed to know at first hand what was going on in his own house.
'W e would love to know as soon as possible what your plans are," he said with an amiable smile at his wife and Arnheim, as if to say that he was of course only an outsider in this matter. Then he explained that this joint enterprise of his wife's and Count Leinsdorf's was al- ready causing grave concern in official quarters. At his most recent briefing session with His Majesty, the Minister of Foreign Affairs had taken soundings as to what kind of public demonstrations in honor of the jubilee might be acceptable to His Majesty, namely, up to what point His Majesty might be graciously willing to countenance a plan anticipating the trend of the times by taking a lead in an inter- national peace program. Which was the only way, Tuzzi pointed out, to translate into political terms the idea of a Global Austria that had come up in His Grace's speech. But His Gracious Majesty, with his world-famous punctiliousness and reserve, Tuzzi went on, had in- stantly waved the suggestion aside, saying firmly: "Oh, I don't like being pushed into the limelight," and·now no one could say whether this meant His Majesty was definitely opposed to the idea or not.
Such was Tuzzi's discreet way of being indiscreet about the little secrets of his profession, as only a man who knows how to keep the big secrets can be. He ended by saying that it was now up to the various embassies to sound out their respeGtive courts abroad, as we were not sure of our own ground but had to fmd some solid point of departure somewhere. Technically, after all, there were all sorts of given possibilities, from calling a general peace conference, to a sum- mit meeting for twenty sovereigns, all the way down to decorating the Peace Palace at The Hague with frescoes by Austrian artists, or a foundation for the benefit of the children and orphans of The Hague's domestic staff. At this point he asked Amheim what they were thinking about the jubilee year at the Prussian court. Amheim disclaimed having any information in this regard. He was repelled by this Austrian cynicism. He, who knew how to chat so elegantly, froze up in Tuzzi's company like a man who wants it clearly understood that affairs of state must be discussed with the utmost gravity and coolness. In this fashion two contrasting kinds of urbanity, two na- tional- and two life-styles, not without a touch of sexual rivairy, pre-
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sented themselves to Diotima. But place a greyhound beside a pug, a willow beside a poplar, a glass of Wine on a freshly plowed field, a portrait in a saill;loat instead of in an art gallery-in short, place side by side two highbred and distinct forms of life, and a void will come into being between them; they will cancel each other out, with the effect of a quite malicious, bottomless absurdity. Diotima felt this with her eyes and ears without understanding it, but she was suffi- ciently alarmed to give a tum to the conversation by telling her hus- band firmly that she intended to achieve something spiritually great with the Parallel Campaign, and would allow only the needs of truly modem minds to influence its leadership;
Arnheim was grateful to her fo:r restoring the dignity of the con- cept, especially because he had to be on his guard, at times, against going under; he could no more afford to be facetious about the events that so nobly justified his being with Diotima than a drowning man can be about his life jacket. Yet he surprised himself by asking Diotima, his voice betraying some uncertainty, whom she would include, in that case, in the intellectual spearhead of the ParaUel
1
Campaign.
Diotima was of course quite unprepared to give a clear answer to
this question. The days she spent with Arnheim had given her such an abundance of suggestions and ideas that she had not yet got around to sorting them out, and while he had repeated to her more than once that the democracy of the eommittees mattered far less than strong personalities with a comprehensive view of things, all it meant to her was simply "You and 1"-though she was still far from deciding anything, or even from having the necessary insight. It was probably just this of which she was reminded by the pessimism in Arnheim's voice, because she answered: "Do we have anything at all nowadays that we can regard as truly important and great, something worth working for with all our might? "
"It is the mark of a time that has lost the inner certainty of health- ier times," Arnheim responded, "that it is hard for something to crys- tallize as the greatest and most important thing of all. "
Section ChiefTuzzi had lowered his eyes to a speck of dust on his trousers, so that one might interpret his smile as a sign of agreement. "And indeed, what should it be? " Arnheim went on tentatively.
"Religion? "
Section ChiefTuzzi now directed his smile upward; Arnheim had pronounced the word this time not quite so emphatically and on- skeptically as before in His Grace's presence, but with sonorous gravity nonetheless.
Diotima, defending herself against her husband's smile, threw in: 'Why not? Religion too! "
"Of course. But since we must come to a practical decision: Have you ever thought of appointing a bishop to the committee, who should come up with a modem goal for the campaign? God is pro- foundly unmodem: we simply cannot imagine him in tails, clean-
shaven, with neatly parted hair; our image of him is still patriarchal. And what is there apart from religion? The nation? The state? "
Diotima was pleased at this, because Tuzzi regarded the state as a masculine subject one did not discuss with women. But now he was silent, only his eyes still hinting that there might be something fur- ther to be said on that score.
"Science? '' Arnheim went on. "Culture? That leaves art. Truly, it is art that should first reflect the unity of existence and its inner order. But we know the picture art presents today. Fragmentation everywhere; extremes without connections. Stendhal, Balzac, and Flaubert have already created the epic of the new mechanized social and inner life, while the demonic substrata ofour lives have been laid bare by Dostoyevsky, Strindberg, and Freud. W e who live today have a deep sense that there is nothing left for us to do. "
Here Section ChiefTuzzi interjected that when he wanted to read something solid, he took down his Homer, or Peter Rosegger.
Arnheim took up the suggestion: "You should include the Bible. With the Bible, Homer, and Rosegger or Reuter, one can manage. And this takes us right to the heart of the problem. What if a new Homer should come along, would we, frankly, be at all capable of listening to him? I believe the answer is no. We don't ha~e him be- cause we don't need him! " Arnheim was now in the saddle and riding high. "If we needed him, we would have him! For in the final analy- sis, nothing· negative happens. in world history. What can it mean that we place everything that is truly great and essential in the past? Homer and Christ have never again been equaled, to say nothing of being surpassed; there is nothing more beautiful than the Song of Songs. The Gothic age and the Renaissance stand before modem
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times like mountain ranges at the entrance to a great plain, and where, today, are the great rulers? How short-winded even the deeds of Napoleon look beside those of the pharaohs, the work of Kant be- side that of the Buddha, that of Goethe beside Homer! But here we are, and we must li"ve for something. What does it all add up to? Nothing but-" But here Arnheim broke off and confessed that he was reluctant to put it into words, because he was forced to conclude that all we regard as great and important in life has nothing to dd' with the innermost force of our lives.
"And that would be? " Tuzzi inquired.