you expressed yourself a moment ago?”
“I’m unemployed.”
“That wouldn’t matter to me. It all depends!”
“No, I have little hope. Though admittedly I shouldn’t be saying such
things if I am to speak with perfect truthfulness. I’m overflowing with hope.
Never, ever does it abandon me. —My father is a poor but joyful individual who
would never dream of comparing his currently bleak circumstances with his glory
days. He lives like a lad of twenty-five and can’t be bothered to
ponder his condition. I admire him and seek to emulate him. If he can still be
cheerful in his snowy old age, it must be his young son’s duty, thirty
times—indeed one hundred times—over, to hold his head high and meet people’s
gazes with eyes that flash like lightning. But the gift of thought was given
to
me—and to my brothers even more than me—by our mother. My mother is dead.”
A dismayed “ah” came from the mouth of the lady, who was still
standing there kindly.
“She was a good-hearted woman. We children always,
constantly still speak of her whenever and wherever we’re reunited. We live
scattered all across this round, wide world, and this is excellent, for we all
have such heads on us, you see, that they shouldn’t come together for very long.
There’s a ponderousness to each of us that would be burdensome if we appeared
together in human society. But this is something that, thank goodness, we avoid,
and each of us knows perfectly well why that’s imperative. And yet we love one
another with appropriate fraternal love. One of my brothers is a fairly
prominent scholar, another a stock market specialist, and yet another nothing
more than just my brother, for I love him more than a brother—and thinking of
him, it never occurs to me to emphasize any of his qualities except simply the
fact that he is my brother: mine, someone who looks just like me, and nothing
more. I would like to live here in your home together with this brother of mine.
The room is large enough for both of us. But no doubt this isn’t possible. What
does the room cost?”
“What does your brother do?”
“He’s a landscape painter! How much would you charge for the room?— —
Oh, that much? This is assuredly not too expensive for this room, but for us
it’s far too much. Besides which, come to think of it, now that I am peering
at
you more keenly: The two of us would hardly be suitable, strolling in and out
of
this house as though we belonged here. We are still so coarse, you’d be
disappointed in us. What’s more, our habits are a bit rough on duvet covers,
furniture, linens, window curtains, doorknobs and stair landings—you’d be
horrified and would lose your temper with us, or perhaps you would forgive us
and strive to turn the other cheek, which would be even more humiliating. I
don’t wish to be the cause of your having trouble with us at some later point.
Surely you would! Do hear me out. I can see it all perfectly clearly. Basically,
the two of us have, in the long run, little respect for anything fine and
delicate. People such as ourselves should be left standing before wealthy garden
gates—free to make derisive remarks about all the splendor and attention to
detail. We are great deriders! Adieu!”
The eyes of the beautiful woman had begun to gleam intensely, and now
all at once she said: “I should like to take in you and your brother after all.
As for the price, I am certain we can reach some agreement.”
“No, it’s best that we don’t.”
Simon was already heading downstairs. Then the lady’s voice called out
after him: “Please stay a little longer.” And she hurried after him. At the
bottom she caught up with Simon and forced him to stand still and listen to her:
“What could you be thinking of, leaving again so soon. Can’t you see that I
want, that I would like to keep the two of you? Even if you
“I’m unemployed.”
“That wouldn’t matter to me. It all depends!”
“No, I have little hope. Though admittedly I shouldn’t be saying such
things if I am to speak with perfect truthfulness. I’m overflowing with hope.
Never, ever does it abandon me. —My father is a poor but joyful individual who
would never dream of comparing his currently bleak circumstances with his glory
days. He lives like a lad of twenty-five and can’t be bothered to
ponder his condition. I admire him and seek to emulate him. If he can still be
cheerful in his snowy old age, it must be his young son’s duty, thirty
times—indeed one hundred times—over, to hold his head high and meet people’s
gazes with eyes that flash like lightning. But the gift of thought was given
to
me—and to my brothers even more than me—by our mother. My mother is dead.”
A dismayed “ah” came from the mouth of the lady, who was still
standing there kindly.
“She was a good-hearted woman. We children always,
constantly still speak of her whenever and wherever we’re reunited. We live
scattered all across this round, wide world, and this is excellent, for we all
have such heads on us, you see, that they shouldn’t come together for very long.
There’s a ponderousness to each of us that would be burdensome if we appeared
together in human society. But this is something that, thank goodness, we avoid,
and each of us knows perfectly well why that’s imperative. And yet we love one
another with appropriate fraternal love. One of my brothers is a fairly
prominent scholar, another a stock market specialist, and yet another nothing
more than just my brother, for I love him more than a brother—and thinking of
him, it never occurs to me to emphasize any of his qualities except simply the
fact that he is my brother: mine, someone who looks just like me, and nothing
more. I would like to live here in your home together with this brother of mine.
The room is large enough for both of us. But no doubt this isn’t possible. What
does the room cost?”
“What does your brother do?”
“He’s a landscape painter! How much would you charge for the room?— —
Oh, that much? This is assuredly not too expensive for this room, but for us
it’s far too much. Besides which, come to think of it, now that I am peering
at
you more keenly: The two of us would hardly be suitable, strolling in and out
of
this house as though we belonged here. We are still so coarse, you’d be
disappointed in us. What’s more, our habits are a bit rough on duvet covers,
furniture, linens, window curtains, doorknobs and stair landings—you’d be
horrified and would lose your temper with us, or perhaps you would forgive us
and strive to turn the other cheek, which would be even more humiliating. I
don’t wish to be the cause of your having trouble with us at some later point.
Surely you would! Do hear me out. I can see it all perfectly clearly. Basically,
the two of us have, in the long run, little respect for anything fine and
delicate. People such as ourselves should be left standing before wealthy garden
gates—free to make derisive remarks about all the splendor and attention to
detail. We are great deriders! Adieu!”
The eyes of the beautiful woman had begun to gleam intensely, and now
all at once she said: “I should like to take in you and your brother after all.
As for the price, I am certain we can reach some agreement.”
“No, it’s best that we don’t.”
Simon was already heading downstairs. Then the lady’s voice called out
after him: “Please stay a little longer.” And she hurried after him. At the
bottom she caught up with Simon and forced him to stand still and listen to her:
“What could you be thinking of, leaving again so soon. Can’t you see that I
want, that I would like to keep the two of you? Even if you
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