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Authors: Joseph Roth
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nothing and for nobody. The tiny pain you feel when you prick your finger is considerable in relation to the shortness of your life. Yes, and to think that there are folk who let their hands be chopped off and their eyes put out for an idea, for an idea! For Humanity, in the name of Freedom! It's frightful!
'I understand well enough, you can't go back on this. One commits some act or other, one simply has to do it. Then we are held responsible, we are given a medal for a so-called heroic deed, we are thrown in jail for a so-called crime. We aren't responsible for anything. At most, we're responsible for what we don't do. If we were held responsible on that account, we'd be beaten up a hundred times a day and lie in jail a hundred times and be hanged a hundred times.'
He returned to the windowpane. And, his back turned to Friedrich, said quite gently: 'Go then, and see you come back. I've seen many go before now.'
Voices were suddenly audible in Frau Tarka's room next-door.
'Quiet,' whispered Grünhut, 'sit quite still where you are. A new client. The painter was here yesterday. I thought then that someone might be coming today. Won't stay long. First consultation. Stay here till she's gone.'
Soon they heard the door. 'Quick, before Madame comes in,' said Grünhut. A fleeting handshake, as if Grünhut had forgotten that it was farewell forever.
13
Two days later he was sitting with old Parthagener at the inn 'The Ball and Chain'. It had not changed. Kapturak still continued to bring in deserters. Folk drank schnapps and ate salted peas. The rebels met at Chaikin's. The jurist still hoped to become a Deputy.
Kapturak arrived next morning. 'So you've not become a district commissioner? Yes, we're leaving already. The trunks I'll take with me. Expect them at the border tavern.' It was a holiday, the frontier officials were already sitting with the deserting soldiers, drinking and singing. Behind the counter stood the landlord, open-mouthed and goggle-eyed.
Friedrich stepped outside. The moist stars twinkled. A soft wind blew. One scented the wide plains from which it came.
A small tubby man with a black goatee suddenly stood next to Friedrich.
'A fine night,' he said, 'isn't it?'
'Yes,' said Friedrich, 'a fine night.'
'I'm arresting you, my dear Kargan,' said the man amiably. He had a chubby, white, almost feminine hand and short fingers. 'Get going!' he ordered.
Two men who suddenly came into view took Friedrich between them.
He felt only the wind, like a consolation from infinite space.
Book Two
It was evening. The water splashed softly and caressingly against the steamer floating on the Volga. The heavy regular thump of the engines could be heard between decks. The swaying lanterns cast light and shadow over the two hundred men who had lain down there, each exactly where he happened to have been standing when he set foot on the ship. At the quiet way-stations the engines fell silent and one heard the low shouts of sailors and porters and the slap of water against wood.
Most of the prisoners lay stretched out on the deck. A hundred and twenty of the two hundred between-deck passengers were in irons. They wore chains at their right wrist and right ankle. Those who were not fettered seemed almost like free men beside the chained men. Now and again there appeared a policeman, an inquisitive sailor. The prisoners took no notice either of their guards or their visitors. Although it was quite early in the evening and food was due to be handed out in half an hour, most slept, tired after the long march they had covered. The government was sending them on the slow cheap route by water, after having made them go a long distance on foot. The day after tomorrow they were to be freighted on the railroad. They were stocking up well on sleep.
Some of them already knew their way around. It was not the first time they had made this trip. These were experienced, settled down in a practical manner, and gave advice to the
'I understand well enough, you can't go back on this. One commits some act or other, one simply has to do it. Then we are held responsible, we are given a medal for a so-called heroic deed, we are thrown in jail for a so-called crime. We aren't responsible for anything. At most, we're responsible for what we don't do. If we were held responsible on that account, we'd be beaten up a hundred times a day and lie in jail a hundred times and be hanged a hundred times.'
He returned to the windowpane. And, his back turned to Friedrich, said quite gently: 'Go then, and see you come back. I've seen many go before now.'
Voices were suddenly audible in Frau Tarka's room next-door.
'Quiet,' whispered Grünhut, 'sit quite still where you are. A new client. The painter was here yesterday. I thought then that someone might be coming today. Won't stay long. First consultation. Stay here till she's gone.'
Soon they heard the door. 'Quick, before Madame comes in,' said Grünhut. A fleeting handshake, as if Grünhut had forgotten that it was farewell forever.
13
Two days later he was sitting with old Parthagener at the inn 'The Ball and Chain'. It had not changed. Kapturak still continued to bring in deserters. Folk drank schnapps and ate salted peas. The rebels met at Chaikin's. The jurist still hoped to become a Deputy.
Kapturak arrived next morning. 'So you've not become a district commissioner? Yes, we're leaving already. The trunks I'll take with me. Expect them at the border tavern.' It was a holiday, the frontier officials were already sitting with the deserting soldiers, drinking and singing. Behind the counter stood the landlord, open-mouthed and goggle-eyed.
Friedrich stepped outside. The moist stars twinkled. A soft wind blew. One scented the wide plains from which it came.
A small tubby man with a black goatee suddenly stood next to Friedrich.
'A fine night,' he said, 'isn't it?'
'Yes,' said Friedrich, 'a fine night.'
'I'm arresting you, my dear Kargan,' said the man amiably. He had a chubby, white, almost feminine hand and short fingers. 'Get going!' he ordered.
Two men who suddenly came into view took Friedrich between them.
He felt only the wind, like a consolation from infinite space.
Book Two
It was evening. The water splashed softly and caressingly against the steamer floating on the Volga. The heavy regular thump of the engines could be heard between decks. The swaying lanterns cast light and shadow over the two hundred men who had lain down there, each exactly where he happened to have been standing when he set foot on the ship. At the quiet way-stations the engines fell silent and one heard the low shouts of sailors and porters and the slap of water against wood.
Most of the prisoners lay stretched out on the deck. A hundred and twenty of the two hundred between-deck passengers were in irons. They wore chains at their right wrist and right ankle. Those who were not fettered seemed almost like free men beside the chained men. Now and again there appeared a policeman, an inquisitive sailor. The prisoners took no notice either of their guards or their visitors. Although it was quite early in the evening and food was due to be handed out in half an hour, most slept, tired after the long march they had covered. The government was sending them on the slow cheap route by water, after having made them go a long distance on foot. The day after tomorrow they were to be freighted on the railroad. They were stocking up well on sleep.
Some of them already knew their way around. It was not the first time they had made this trip. These were experienced, settled down in a practical manner, and gave advice to the
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