Translation:The Mysterious Individual/IV

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1201604Translation:The Mysterious Individual — SECTION IVWikisourceLudwig Tieck


A loud clamour greeted the alighting visitor. All the servants were running about in a state of confusion; everyone was giving orders but no one was obeying them; one task would be begun only to be immediately interrupted in favour of another. Kronenberg ascended the grand staircase; but when he arrived in the large antechamber, all the servants had abandoned him and he was left in the dark. The cold room gave him sufficient leisure to contemplate the peculiar condition of the house. He groped about for a door, but he did not risk moving about decisively for fear of knocking over or breaking something. And when eventually he caught hold of a door handle, the door was opened from the inside and Christoph emerged with a lantern.

This is ridiculous! he exclaimed. Are you still here? With each passing day, it seems, the saving of energy is being taken to crazier lengths! Here in the dark? This way, quickly. The young lord, of course, does not even know that you have arrived.

He led the stranger down a long corridor to a well-heated room, where Karl von Wildhausen was seated, buried under a pile of books, documents and letters. He jumped up and warmly greeted his friend.

I was not expecting you, he exclaimed, and none of those scoundrels bothered to inform me of your arrival! And how are things with you, my friend? I've heard so little of you. Speak!

As they were alone, Kronenberg had no hesitation in taking him into his confidence in the following manner:

You know best, my dear friend, how the paltry fortune my father left me has been consumed in speculations and improvements to my small estate, which turned out all too soon to be anything but. Creditors, and above all debts of bill, were piling up, and as I had long feared, I was left with but one course of action, which I have been absolutely obliged to take to the detriment of my reputation. My miserly uncle might help, who has hitherto been so generous with his advice and admonition, but just as economical when it came to deeds and genuine support.

But all the same, said Karl, it seemed that your marriage would straighten everything out, so I was astonished when you suddenly wrote to me that even this had fallen through.

It was difficult for me, continued Kronenberg, to accept the idea of marrying for money. In addition to this, Cecilia, who seemed to love me at first, grew colder in her attitude towards me with each passing day. I must assume that another passion, one perhaps that had been concealed until then, was the cause of this alteration in her demeanour. Also, I could not bring myself to reveal the complete hopelessness of my position to her father, no matter how often he asked me about it; the words died on my tongue every time. This shame, whether genuine or false, was probably the reason that her father also noticeably held himself aloof from me. In the end I felt extremely uncomfortable in their company; indeed I was soon quite unable to perform with good grace the role I had assumed all too rashly. But the worst thing was

What? exclaimed Karl. Something worse?

Let me finish, said Kronenberg. It occurred to her brother, a hot-headed young man, as you know, that it was an insult to his sister and her family that I wanted to break off the engagement, which had been well publicized in the neighbourhood, and he considered himself honour-bound to demand satisfaction of me.

Good Heavens! exclaimed his friend, and?

We fought a duel with pistols, he was seriously wounded, fatally, it seemed to me. You understand that this hastened my flight even more, and I was obliged to plunge into that completely helpless position in which I sent you that short letter from the frontier wherein I asked for your friendship and your assistance.

You know me, Karl said with the greatest cordiality. Do not doubt my friendship, but my straitened circumstances are also well known to you. As many funds as I can realize are at your service. There would be more, perhaps enough to rebuild your financial position, if only I could take such proposals to my father. But he is a hard-hearted individual, especially towards those he believes have brought misfortune upon themselves through their own carelessness and poor management of their affairs. I will contact your uncle and your most pressing creditors, lest your good name be vilified in your absence. Now, what are your immediate intentions, assuming that I can give you perhaps a thousand or even twelve hundred thalers for your travels? Because that would probably be the most I could possibly raise.

Moved, Kronenberg embraced his friend and then said:

Still the same old Karl! I knew that I could count on your kindness; since our schooldays you have been as faithful to me as my own heart. I'm thinking of going to that city in southern Germany which I spoke to you about on a previous occasion. I can renew some old friendships there, I have very good letters of recommendation that will put me in contact with men of influence; and so I believe that, with talent, skill and diligence, I can establish a career for myself there that will lead to a new and better life than I have known up to now; and perhaps I will reach a point then where I can put the loss of my entire patrimony behind me. In the meantime, if you could recover a little of my inheritance through your credit so as to incline my uncle more favourably towards me, then so much the better, just in case my plan, which I believe is not unreasonable, should prove to be chimerical.

With your talents anything is possible, replied Karl, especially if you renounce poetic occupations and dedicate yourself to the serious sciences.

You've just reminded me, the other man exclaimed, that I have a long letter for you from your interesting poet friends, which I'm sure you will enjoy.

Let me see! Karl said with great animation. The other man searched his jacket, overcoat and cloak, but in vain.

The contents of my wallet are missing, he finally stammered, alarmed. No, they must be in the carriage.

They rang for a servant, who was despatched to search the coach; but he returned fifteen minutes later and swore that there was no sign of the missing items in any of the pockets or drawers of the carriage. Meanwhile, Christoph has also been summoned and Kronenberg let fly at him with the question:

Do you remember, old man, seeing a red, fairly large wallet in my hands or on the table in the last town we stopped in, or in the first inn?

Surely my lord, replied the old man in his usual querulous manner, would be the most likely person to recall such a thing. I can only say that I know nothing and have seen nothing of such a wallet, in either the first or the second inn.

What about in that wood, interrupted Kronenberg, where the coach toppled over? Perhaps they are still lying there? Did you by any chance see them on the ground?

Christoph took a step back and then looked at him askance through squinted eyes:

What if I now said Yes, my lord, and tried to excuse myself by saying that I mistook the thing for a fallen and dried up rose hip, and so left it lying in the snow? Would I not deserve to be taken out and given a sound thrashing?

Kronenberg had to laugh, vexed as he was.

So, it seems I have lost some very most important letters and my passport to boot, which I cannot possibly replace from here.

I have it! cried Christoph. The stranger, who was so obliging at the final stop as to help you undress, and who very rudely pushed me away out of sheer politeness, and who went to such trouble to brush and carefully fold your overcoat. The scoundrel must have seen your wallet and filched it, because a rogue and a spy can always make great use of such a passport.

Could it possibly be, said Kronenberg

Certainly, continued Christoph. The amount of boloney he fed me on the coach box! He asked me about everyone, and he was already familiar with every nook and cranny in the whole the country.

Of whom do you speak? asked Karl.

Oh, that fellow, Christoph replied with alacrity, you must have seen him more than once last year, my lord, in your father's company. They all just called him the great nature-lover, because he used to crawl through all the forests, ravines and mountains, and sketch every rocky outcrop. On that occasion he seemed fairly reputable, but now he has quite the character of a footpad.

When Kronenberg had recounted all that had transpired between himself and this man, his friend thought it not unlikely that the latter could have taken possession of the wallet, mainly on account of the passport; nevertheless, he ordered Christoph to ride back to the neighbouring town as soon as possible and search the tavern once more. Christoph departed with a half-audible grumble, to the effect that yet again it was up to him to make good the negligence of his masters.

A servant summoned the young people to the dining room. Kronenberg greeted his friend's mother, who responded very politely and was delighted to see him once again after such a long time. Karl's father, who was seated by himself at a small table and engrossed in a book, took no notice at all of the dinner or the visitor.

Dinner is served![1] his wife called over to him.

Sit down, my dear, the old lord replied in a deep voice. Eat away, I'll be with you in good time, but I cannot put down this delightful book.

They took their seats.

You must forgive a country squire, the lady said very courteously, for his lack of attentiveness, my dear Herr Kronenberg. At least my son and I know how fortunate we are that after more than a year you are pleased to deprive the capital and its glittering circles of your company and once again pay a visit to our remote little town. My dear son has read me a few of your letters and has even communicated to me your poetic productions, which have delighted me and which I consider excellent, as far as my feeble insight reaches.

Such applause, replied Kronenberg, shall inspire me to do better in the future.

Admittedly, continued the lady, people nowadays wish to create brand new and unheard of things, and we have even reached the point where some people actually want us to forget everything we learned in our youth and recognized as right and proper. But time will show that our forefathers were not so very wrong to take their cue from a civilized nation that can show us through its own culture what one must avoid and what one must aspire to.

No doubt you are speaking of the French? asked Kronenberg.

Of who else? the lady said somewhat sarcastically. Is there then, in fact, any other?

The old man, engrossed in his book, began to sing loudly.

Should not every nation, Kronenberg interjected modestly, be permitted to have their own literature, and hasn't the German nation already made significant strides in its own unique culture?

The German nation! the lady exclaimed, raising the key to a higher pitch. Must I hear such things from you too, my intelligent friend? How long has the nation been German then? When has it even shown that it actually wants such a thing, even supposing rational thought were compatible with such an intention? Barbaric, ignorant, clumsy, and as powerless in politics as in literature, she was very grateful when she learned from Louis XIV what was expected of her, and at the same time came to her senses when orators, historians and poets then showed her roughly what she should think and feel. Can we not also see from this moment on a healthy contention in writing, versification and preaching both in spirit and in imitation of their great models, which they could certainly never reach? I am well aware that a period of barbarism ensued and an attempt to break away from these models, which one must lose hope of ever equalling. But what did this lead to? A slavish grovelling at the heels of the vulgar English, who have never been capable of gaining a clear and serene insight into the world, but rather must substitute hypochondria and world-weariness for profundity. Once again a poor model was revered, copied, imitated and exaggerated. This doctrine now resounded from one end of the country to the other, and one could no longer tell the good from the bad. How then could the original, the truly national, have ever emerged? I am convinced that the German is incapable of self-reliance, that if things continue like this the time is perhaps not far off when he will beg from the forgotten and superstitious Spaniards, he will pick up their discarded crumbs, and from their worm-eaten crucifixes and idols he will carve his icons, and then for a while he will kneel before them in a barbarous and ephemeral fanaticism.

I admire this caustic manner of expressing yourself, Kronenberg said very unctuously, even more than the erudition which so bold an opinion, my dear lady, entails.

You too seem to be of the opinion, replied the lady, that it is impossible for women to be rational, and certainly if you consider all the devices men have come up with to prevent us from growing up, it is not particularly surprising if most individuals of my sex remain childish all their lives, especially as it is only through this half-natural, half-affected silliness that they make themselves pleasing to men. In old age, of course, this trait looks all the sadder, and then the majority decide rather abruptly to transform themselves into nothing less than harridans or religious bigots, although the worst ones can even become so skilled at such transformations as to incorporate both these species of animal in the one frame.

Incomparable! exclaimed Kronenberg.

Just play the hypocrite and flatter yourself! grumbled the old lord, who was bent low over his book.

I hope, continued his wife, that you are not one of those men whose own wretchedness requires that women be even more wretched, so that they need not be ashamed when they look at themselves in the mirror. I would not express an opinion contrary to yours if I did not consider you an exception. Still, I remember well in times past how much we concurred in our admiration of that nation who rightly now calls herself Great, who now feels that it is she who has educated Europe and who will at some point in the future turn Europe into a civilized part of the world; for what is there that is well done, well invented, well contrived or well conceived (if it is at all worthy of attention) that the modern world does not have her to thank for?

But humans, dear mother, occasionally change, her son said with a smile, and I do not know how far you and I will agree even with our friend.

That would be weaker than weak, she exclaimed: for it would prove that your previous opinion was not even genuine parroting, but merely aspired to parroting, and I have always had much too high a regard for your genius and your truly educated mind to permit myself to harbour even the remotest suspicion of such a thing against you.

At this point Lord Wildhausen got up, closed his book and came over to the table. He bowed perfunctorily to Kronenberg, poured himself a large glass of Rhenish wine, raised it and cried:

To the health of the author of that book! Yes, if we had more like him and were not lacking in courage and originality, then we would have soon made progress. For that, my beloved treasure, is the cardinal sin of my countrymen, that we are still ashamed of our own stupidity: and so foreign and domestic fools break us in, and know how to throw all sorts of follies and antics around our necks, because they can convince us that it is wise and witty to stroll around in such a harness: to please them we often discard the best of our traditions and opinions, because they can persuade us that they're nothing but antiquated and short-sighted stupidities. Just so did we once treat savages, who bartered gold for a simple looking glass. You, the young friend of my son, just like my own son, will one day dig out of the rubble with tears what with laughter you now tread beneath your feet; for by then my dear wife and I will hopefully be gathered to our ancestors, from whence perhaps we will be able to look down through a secret window, with a somewhat heavenly serenity, at the petty nation and the enormous muddle below.

Who can argue with you! the lady said scornfully. Whoever cannot reason logically or, still less, discriminate dialectically, should give up disputation altogether.

To your good health! cried the master of the house, as he drained an even larger glass. O Heavens, what strength and robust nature to have all this stuff, supernal and infernal, at your disposal, ever ready to obey your every command. My brain and mind are certainly otherwise equipped, for either both would have burst from such an effervescent concoction or they would have digested it so thoroughly that I wouldn't be perpetually condemned to taste it at such inconvenient times.

His wife blushed with anger and his son was embarrassed; Kronenberg, in order to punctuate the uneasy silence, asked:

Might one know what book you have just been reading?

Indeed, she exclaimed, that maussade[2] author who has ventured into an area the style and subject matter of which are much too sublime for him, and who conceals his lack of insight behind a plethora of German platitudes. Strange! The foreigners have a specific word for something that is really only at home amongst us Germans! We have no word for this national virtue of ours, but, of course, we too are quick to notice that such a thing would acknowledge a reproach and call it patriotism, probity, loyalty and, when convenient, German consciousness, or even graciousness.

The old man got up and fetched the book.

Look, he said, opening the title-page, this magnificent work is one that you, my young Herr von Kronenberg, should surely read and study carefully, if your poetic vein allows you the time and leisure to peruse it. You might learn something and give up your false admiration.

And destroy a superior mind, cried the lady of the house.

Let us not argue, said Kronenberg. I know this book; I have a copy of it with me.

Is that a fact? the old man cried; and who might the author be? I'm just surprised that it has not yet been banned, because foreign influence has become much too powerful in our native land. Also, the author had better take care!

Kronenberg hesitated for a moment, but then freely confessed, as he had already done to his friend Freimund, that the author of the cited and indeed quite dangerous work was none other than himself.

What? cried everyone at once in utter amazement, and as they had finished dining just then, the lady of the house departed with a short curtsey and a derisive smile: the elderly man, however, impetuously drew the young man to his breast and exclaimed enthusiastically:

Am I, then, to make the acquaintance of the noble German who has dared in these wretched times of ours to enunciate these great truths so boldly? And it is you, my young man? Forgive me for everything that I have ever thought or spoken against you. Tomorrow we will meet again and become better acquainted.

When Kronenberg had returned to his young friend's room, the latter said to him:

I have always thought you capable of so much, dear Ferdinand, but I never would have expected you to be the author of such a work, which I must value highly even though it contradicts all my opinions. And how did you manage to alter your political creed so quickly?

Never mind that, said Kronenberg, I'm just delighted that your father now has a better opinion of me thanks to this. You might drop him a hint sometime today. Might it not be possible for him to help improve my circumstances now?

Karl laughed out loud, then said, somewhat embarrassed:

Forgive me if this idea strikes me as funny, and if I have been forced to show up my own parents' weaknesses. If you had not rendered yourself forever anathema to my mother by your unexpected authorship, your idea might have been feasible, even if my father had not befriended you and made amends. Now, however, you've actually ruined things with both of them. The old boy only displays such heroism in the presence of strangers, because he assumes that the woman of the house will restrain herself on such occasions; but he also knows in advance that he will have to atone for his patriotism and pride in the solitude of the bedroom; he then grows all the more humble, as though his spirits had merely been elevated through wine and his native Teutonism. Tomorrow you will see him, who today tyrannized like a lord, creep more timidly than a suppliant; and it is chiefly from this weak inconsistency, which can put up with anything, that my mother has abstracted her opinion of the German character, however much she might bluster at times. So, you can well imagine how closely she will stand guard over him and make sure that he does nothing for you, and we can count ourselves fortunate if he does not actually hunt you down and provoke a quarrel just to get back in his wife's good graces.

As Kronenberg shook his head and sighed at these strange disclosures, his friend continued:

Let's drop the subject: I have a very important request to make of you. You intend, I understand, to travel abroad: if so, then take your way through the Neuhaus estate ten miles from here, with which you are already familiar. There you shall make the acquaintance of the daughter of the family. She is my heart's desire; but my father is obstinately and implacably opposed to our engagement, and my mother yields to him in this matter because years ago she was once insulted by the family. But your word now carries such weight with my father that a letter of recommendation and a flattering description could certainly turn everything in my favour.

Kronenberg took his leave with the promise that he would try, and he went to bed.

__________



Notes[edit]

  1. The Countess's Sie sind serviert is a Gallicism from the French, vous êtes servi. The normal German expression is, Es ist serviert. The Countess's conversation is replete with Gallicisms and expressions borrowed from French.
  2. Maussade: (French) Disgruntled, sullen, surly.