Protestant you are well informed.” And I said: “I am not a Protestant, but I am interested in certain things because Marie is interested in them.” And while Kinkel poured us all some wine, Sommerwild said: “There are certain rules, Schnier, but there are also exceptions. I come from a family in which the profession of head game warden was hereditary.” If he had said profession of game warden I would have understood, but his saying profession of head game warden annoyed me again, though I said nothing, just looked sour. Then they began again with their eye-language. Mrs. Kinkel said with her eyes to Sommerwild: Leave him alone, he’s so terribly young. And Sommerwild said with his eyes to her: Yes, young and pretty badly behaved, and Kinkelas he filled my glass, the last one, said with his eyes to me: God, how young you are. Aloud he said to Marie: “How’s your father? Still the same?” Poor Marie was so pale and upset that she could only nod dumbly. Sommerwild said: “What would our nice devout old city be like without Mr. Derkum.” That annoyed me still further, for old man Derkum had told me that Sommerwild had tried to warn the Catholic schools kids, who still bought candy and pencils at his shop, against him. I said: “Without Mr. Derkum our nice devout old city would be even dirtier, at least he is not a hypocrite.” Kinkel looked at me in surprise, raised his glass and said: “Thank you, Mr. Schnier, you have given me my cue for a good toast: let’s drink to Martin Derkum’s health.” I said: “Yes, to
his
health with pleasure.” And Mrs. Kinkel spoke again with her eyes to her husband: He is not only young and badly behaved—he is also insolent. I have never understood how later on Kinkel could always refer to that “first evening with you” as the nicest. Shortly afterwards Fredebeul arrived, with his fiancée, Monika Silvs and a certain Von Severn of whom, before he came, it was said that “although he had just converted he was very close to the Socialist Party,” which was evidently regarded as a terrific sensation. I also met Fredebeul for the first time that evening, and there again the same thing happened as with almost all the others: in spite of everything they liked me, and in spite of everything I didn’t like any of them, except Fredebeul’s fiancée and Monika Silvs; I felt neither one way nor the other about Von Severn. He was a bore and seemed firmly determined to rest on the laurels he had acquired from the sensational fact that he was a convert
and
a member of the Socialist Party; he smiled, was friendly, and yet his rather prominent eyes always seemed to be saying: Look at me, it’s me! I didn’t find him bad at all. Fredebeul was very jovial with me, he talked for almost three quarters of an hour about Beckett and Ionesco, rattling off a lot of stuff which I could tell he had pieced together from his reading, and his smooth handsome face with thesurprisingly wide mouth radiated goodwill when I was stupid enough to acknowledge having read Beckett; everything he says seems so familiar to me, as if I had read it somewhere before. Kinkel beamed at him admiringly, and Sommerwild looked around, his eyes saying: We Catholics aren’t behind the times, are we, eh? All this was before prayers. It was Mrs. Kinkel who said: “I think, Odilo, we can say prayers. It looks as if Heribert is not coming today”—they all looked at Marie, then away again, much too quickly, but I didn’t understand why there was again such an awkward silence—it was only in Hanover in the hotel room that I suddenly realized Heribert is Züpfner’s Christian name. He did come later after all, after prayers, when they were in the midst of the topic for the evening, and I found it very sweet the way Marie went up to him as soon as he came in the room, looked at him, and gave a helpless little shrug before Züpfner greeted the others and sat down next to me with a smile. Sommerwild then told the story
his
health with pleasure.” And Mrs. Kinkel spoke again with her eyes to her husband: He is not only young and badly behaved—he is also insolent. I have never understood how later on Kinkel could always refer to that “first evening with you” as the nicest. Shortly afterwards Fredebeul arrived, with his fiancée, Monika Silvs and a certain Von Severn of whom, before he came, it was said that “although he had just converted he was very close to the Socialist Party,” which was evidently regarded as a terrific sensation. I also met Fredebeul for the first time that evening, and there again the same thing happened as with almost all the others: in spite of everything they liked me, and in spite of everything I didn’t like any of them, except Fredebeul’s fiancée and Monika Silvs; I felt neither one way nor the other about Von Severn. He was a bore and seemed firmly determined to rest on the laurels he had acquired from the sensational fact that he was a convert
and
a member of the Socialist Party; he smiled, was friendly, and yet his rather prominent eyes always seemed to be saying: Look at me, it’s me! I didn’t find him bad at all. Fredebeul was very jovial with me, he talked for almost three quarters of an hour about Beckett and Ionesco, rattling off a lot of stuff which I could tell he had pieced together from his reading, and his smooth handsome face with thesurprisingly wide mouth radiated goodwill when I was stupid enough to acknowledge having read Beckett; everything he says seems so familiar to me, as if I had read it somewhere before. Kinkel beamed at him admiringly, and Sommerwild looked around, his eyes saying: We Catholics aren’t behind the times, are we, eh? All this was before prayers. It was Mrs. Kinkel who said: “I think, Odilo, we can say prayers. It looks as if Heribert is not coming today”—they all looked at Marie, then away again, much too quickly, but I didn’t understand why there was again such an awkward silence—it was only in Hanover in the hotel room that I suddenly realized Heribert is Züpfner’s Christian name. He did come later after all, after prayers, when they were in the midst of the topic for the evening, and I found it very sweet the way Marie went up to him as soon as he came in the room, looked at him, and gave a helpless little shrug before Züpfner greeted the others and sat down next to me with a smile. Sommerwild then told the story
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