the dark underpass of the elevated line, Klemmer makes a daredevil attempt, he briefly grabs at the professor’s hand. Give me your hand, Erika. This hand can play the piano so marvelously. Now the hand coldly slips through his net and is gone. A puff of air arose, and then the air fell still again. Erika acts as if she hasn’t noticed the attempt. First misfire. The handgot up its nerve only because Erika’s mother was walking side by side with them for a brief distance. Mother has become a sidecar in order to supervise the front line of the young couple. There are no autos in the street now, and the sidewalk is narrow at this point. Erika perceives a danger and gets her foolhardy mother back on the sidewalk immediately. Klemmer’s hand falls by the wayside.
Klemmer now sends his mouth on this zealous trip. His mouth, lacking the fine creases of age, opens and closes effortlessly. He wants to talk to Erika about a novel by Norman Mailer, whom Klemmer admires as a man and as an artist. Klemmer saw such and such in the book; perhaps Erika saw something entirely different? Erika hasn’t read it, and the discussion seeps away. No exchange can ever come about in this way. Erika would trade anything for her lost youth, and Klemmer would like to trade his youth for experience. The young face of the young man shimmers softly under streetlights and illuminated store windows; next to him, the pianist shrivels, a piece of paper burning in a stove of lust. She doesn’t have the nerve to look at him. Mother will certainly try to separate them if necessary. Erika is monosyllabic and uninterested, becoming more and more so the closer they get to the trolley stop. Mother prevents the transaction between the two young people by talking about the danger of a cold and by tempting fate with a detailed description of the symptoms. Erika agrees with her. One should be careful not to catch something now; tomorrow may be too late. Herr Klemmer makes a final desperate attempt to spread his wings. He blares about knowing a good way to prevent colds: You have to harden your body in advance. He recommends going to a sauna. He recommends a few good laps in a pool. He recommends sports in general and the most exciting kind, white-water canoeing, in particular. Now, in winter,the ice gets in the way, you have to make do with other sports for the time being. But soon it’ll be spring, and that’s the best time for white-water canoeing, because the rivers will be filled with melted snow and ice, and they’ll pull everything along. Klemmer again recommends going to a sauna. He recommends long-distance running, cross-country running, fitness running in general. Erika isn’t listening, but her eyes sweep over him; then, embarrassed, they instantly glide away. Almost unintentionally, she peers out from the prison of her aging body. She will not file away at the bars. Mother won’t let her touch her bars. Klemmer won’t go along with that, no matter what Erika says. This ardent warrior boldly gropes another step forward, a young bull, stamping around the fence. Is he trying to get to the cow, or does he merely want to get to a new meadow? Who can say? He recommends sports so you can have fun and generally develop a sense of your body, through your body. You wouldn’t believe how much a person can enjoy his own body, Professor! Ask your body what it wants and it’ll tell you. At first, your body may look plain and homely. But then, oh, boy! It comes alive, and the muscles develop. It stretches in fresh air. But it also knows its limits. And Klemmer can reap all these benefits from his favorite sport, white-water canoeing. A flimsy memory flashes through Erika’s mind; she once saw something or other on TV: white-water canoers. They popped up in a weekend sports panorama, before the movie. The paddlers were wearing orange life vests and reinforced helmets. They were squeezed into tiny boats or similar contraptions, like baby pears in a bottle of
Klemmer now sends his mouth on this zealous trip. His mouth, lacking the fine creases of age, opens and closes effortlessly. He wants to talk to Erika about a novel by Norman Mailer, whom Klemmer admires as a man and as an artist. Klemmer saw such and such in the book; perhaps Erika saw something entirely different? Erika hasn’t read it, and the discussion seeps away. No exchange can ever come about in this way. Erika would trade anything for her lost youth, and Klemmer would like to trade his youth for experience. The young face of the young man shimmers softly under streetlights and illuminated store windows; next to him, the pianist shrivels, a piece of paper burning in a stove of lust. She doesn’t have the nerve to look at him. Mother will certainly try to separate them if necessary. Erika is monosyllabic and uninterested, becoming more and more so the closer they get to the trolley stop. Mother prevents the transaction between the two young people by talking about the danger of a cold and by tempting fate with a detailed description of the symptoms. Erika agrees with her. One should be careful not to catch something now; tomorrow may be too late. Herr Klemmer makes a final desperate attempt to spread his wings. He blares about knowing a good way to prevent colds: You have to harden your body in advance. He recommends going to a sauna. He recommends a few good laps in a pool. He recommends sports in general and the most exciting kind, white-water canoeing, in particular. Now, in winter,the ice gets in the way, you have to make do with other sports for the time being. But soon it’ll be spring, and that’s the best time for white-water canoeing, because the rivers will be filled with melted snow and ice, and they’ll pull everything along. Klemmer again recommends going to a sauna. He recommends long-distance running, cross-country running, fitness running in general. Erika isn’t listening, but her eyes sweep over him; then, embarrassed, they instantly glide away. Almost unintentionally, she peers out from the prison of her aging body. She will not file away at the bars. Mother won’t let her touch her bars. Klemmer won’t go along with that, no matter what Erika says. This ardent warrior boldly gropes another step forward, a young bull, stamping around the fence. Is he trying to get to the cow, or does he merely want to get to a new meadow? Who can say? He recommends sports so you can have fun and generally develop a sense of your body, through your body. You wouldn’t believe how much a person can enjoy his own body, Professor! Ask your body what it wants and it’ll tell you. At first, your body may look plain and homely. But then, oh, boy! It comes alive, and the muscles develop. It stretches in fresh air. But it also knows its limits. And Klemmer can reap all these benefits from his favorite sport, white-water canoeing. A flimsy memory flashes through Erika’s mind; she once saw something or other on TV: white-water canoers. They popped up in a weekend sports panorama, before the movie. The paddlers were wearing orange life vests and reinforced helmets. They were squeezed into tiny boats or similar contraptions, like baby pears in a bottle of
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