Perlefter (11 page)

There were a few little things that Herr Perlefter didn't like. I think, if I may say so, that he sought to retaliate for having to endure singing the praises of Herr Kofritz for several hours a day in front of strangers and acquaintances. Therefore, Alexander Perlefter looked for flaws; the larger the better. That Kofritz spent so much money annoyed him. He criticized the fact that Fredy had to ride instead of ‘looking after business'. But no one except his poor wife now cared for his advice and his foul moods. He stayed ever longer in the club where he was appreciated because of his new family ties. He allowed himself to celebrate, and yet I believe that it brought him no joy when one appeared to celebrate him while actually celebrating Kofritz.

Tante Kempen came to get her commission.

‘This marriage was truly made in Heaven!' said Perlefter and cast a glance at the ceiling.

Frau Perlefter cried, for she could not tolerate any quarrels, and she hurried to give Frau Kempen some
costly pineapples. Tante Kempen ate pineapples as if this magnificent fruit was an ordinary apple. She was indignant. She even said, ‘This marriage is far from complete. It is first an engagement!'

At this point Perlefter grabbed his chequebook and paid Frau Kempen her commission. In exchange she had to forgo pineapples, and instead she got cherries, which at that time were just beginning to ripen.

Frau Kempen placed little value on pineapples. She was not offended; she wanted only to garner for herself an invitation from Kofritz, and she succeeded. Herr Kofritz had a poor niece who lived with him whom he wanted to marry off, and he could use Frau Kempen's services.

Frau Kempen even knew an appropriate man, a young journalist who worked for a large publishing house and who was waiting for the death of the local editor to be able to get married. By luck the young man, named Hirsch, got himself into the film section of the newspaper and received a salary increase.

I met the young man at Perlefter's. Herr Hirsch had a substantial physiognomy and, despite his youth, little hair. Frau Perlefter made the apt but somewhat general observation that the young man looked ‘like an actor'. He had short legs and a long thick torso. His rigid nose sprang out with imperious confidence.

This young man was considered by the family to be a ‘gifted writer'. He sometimes brought free tickets. Herr Perlefter thought highly of him, although he still earned little. Unfortunately, Julie Perlefter was once
again bedridden. Even before she had a chance to recover her health the young Herr Hirsch had decided upon the Kofritz niece. It seemed to me that later, after Julie had recovered, Herr Hirsch was sorry that he had been so impatient. He had chosen for life and could not alter his decision.

He soon married and became head of the film section. Had he taken Perlefter's daughter he would certainly have moved into the commercial section, to the columns in which the important writers develop an interest in the stock market.

Fräulein Julie was now expected to be healthy for a half a year, and Frau Kempen made use of this time. She knew a dentist without a practice who had a great desire to establish himself.

He was a handsome young man with girlish pink cheeks and bright-blue eyes and a short moustache. He liked to tell ‘jokes for gentlemen' and amused Herr Perlefter away in a corner.

Enquiries were made into his past life, and it was learned that he had a mistress.

Herr Perlefter had nothing against a mistress, whom one could easily discard. Furthermore, he was sympathetic to the idea of a dentist in the family. How often did one or another family member have a toothache? The dentistry bills always accumulated at the end of the year.

In general Herr Perlefter was in favour of a practical son-in-law, as I have mentioned once before. Everything that was a danger, a pain or an evil should be
immediately averted. He longed for a solicitor for his youngest daughter. By surrounding himself and his family with a protective force of experts he believed that he could not only protect his family but also save money.

Unfortunately, Julie's health did not hold up as had been predicted six months earlier. She had an abscess, a hateful and downright proletarian illness and, moreover, on a place on her body about which one could not speak easily, a location one could divine based on the silence it inspired.

Consequently, Julie could not lie on her back, and thus the bed no longer gave her any comfort. She was operated upon twice. The family doctor came twice a day, and the surgeon came three times a week. When her bandages were removed Julie was emaciated, and as it was not yet summertime it was decided to seek a health resort for her.

Herr Perlefter, whose digestion was not very good, would enter a spa for stomach ailments. He had to drink water and exercise. In contrast, his wife needed complete tranquillity, for she was nervous.

Karoline and her chemist sought a serene place, such a location in which one could experience the most idyllic existence. Fredy was to go with the Kofritz family on a little trip through Europe and then stay in Switzerland where there were mountains for tourists and valleys for automobile tours.

The youngest daughter, Margarete, was to accompany her mother, although it would be very boring. Frau
Perlefter could not travel alone. She knew nothing of the outside world. She did not understand train schedules, she was shy and even fearful, and it was impossible for her to sleep alone in a hotel room.

Thus remained Julie, who did not want to go with her mother since Margarete would be there. The abscess had interrupted the handsome dentist's courtship, and he had to be given the opportunity to continue in a summer resort. That could spell trouble for Margarete, since she was more beautiful and healthier. It was predicted that even in a health resort Julie would seek a bed. In that case, the invited dentist would accompany Margarete, and one knew that the walk around the health resort was lonely and in the evenings so poorly lit that she might be seduced into imprudent activities.

There were therefore many difficult problems to resolve within the Perlefter household, and they even asked my advice, although I was a novice in such matters. None the less I suggested that the dentist only be invited when Julie had fully recovered her health. He was invited for a week, and in the meantime Margarete was sent to be with her father at the spa.

In mid-July the Perlefter family was scattered in various recreation spots, and I often went to visit them by train, bearing bunches of flowers.

I was asked to take a peek at the Perlefter house from time to time. I promised I would do so. I was told that the silver utensils were stored in the wood-burning stove in the salon.

The alpaca cups stood in the linen closet. On the
floor lay the rug, rolled up. The lamps were covered with large white sacks. The windows were bare as in sick rooms; the curtains lay in the laundry room. It smelled of camphor to combat moths, and every evening the cook played the gramophone.

That summer I went to live with Henriette in the village, and I was pleased to see how capable she was. Her husband feared her. She slapped the servants, and she boxed the maids. All was tidy on this farm. The watchdog loved Henriette and stayed at her feet. Sometimes she slaughtered the chickens herself – with a sharp knife she struck a confident blow – and then I got a good soup. She didn't let me get up before eight in the morning, and after sundown she told me that the farmer had at most a year to live.

Henriette was still pretty, at any rate it seemed that way to me, and I confess that I was not certain whether she also appeared so pretty to others. Back then I wanted to become a farmer, who sowed, ploughed and harvested and never wrote a word.

When I returned to the city there was a letter waiting for me. Fredy had married
en route;
the celebration would be held later. Karoline had also married the chemist. The dentist was on the verge of becoming engaged to Julie. Frau Perlefter had no more headaches. Herr Perlefter's digestion was in perfect order. Margarete danced diligently and yet gained weight. Overall the weather was beautiful. It hardly rained that summer. Such a dry summer is apt to put the wealthy into a good mood.

A half a year later – it was winter, the time of year for balls and dressmakers – Margarete got engaged to a gentleman in the prime of his life, a man who made table lamps. His lamps were of a very special type, made from a material that looked like porcelain and yet never broke, decorated with colourful ornamentation which could never fade, with movable shades whose position could be adjusted. The most important thing about these lamps, however, was the fact that the inside contained one or more little bulbs, so that a faint, mild, milky light streamed out, the room darkened and yet illuminated, the most excellent lighting for people who suffer from insomnia, who fear the dark or who are disturbed by an ordinary lamp. A light that was also useful in salons in which intimate societies sat, for lovers who no longer need to see each other but do not want complete darkness and for ageing and ill-looking women whose fading looks are still beautiful if a dim and colourful shadow is cast upon them.

One should never draw conclusions about a person's character based on his profession. In this case, however, I cannot deny a correlation between the gentle light of
the table lamps and the lyrical soul of Herr Sedan, as Margarete's fiancé was called. The historical name had no bearing in this case. When one saw Herr Sedan one thought not of history. He looked fat and mild, and he possessed the gentle softness and warm goodness of a man whose soul was well cushioned and protected against any attack like a well-padded suitcase. Across the wide bridge of his nose sat his ancient black pince-nez with thick, sharply polished glasses that slightly shrunk his large eyeballs without robbing them of their lustre of goodness. Herr Sedan wore dark suits that made him look slim, obscured his belly and mellowed the girlish red of his cheeks. He was someone who wrote no poetry, yet one could still say that he was poetic, so I call him a poet, a passive poet. And even this restrictive attribution loosens when I consider that the lamps of the Sedan factory were actually poetry.

One must remember that Margarete's goal was to operate a salon in which true artists could convene. Consequently, her fiancé began to finance an artistic magazine. He located a man of letters, a writer of feuilletons who had long been seeking funding. His name was Dr Feld, and he wrote under an Italian pseudonym about fashion, art exhibitions, social events and also about women. This last them e he handled in the form of aphorisms that he scattered in various magazines, as a farmer spreads seeds over the fields. One read the aphorisms there where the sketches left off and the advertisements began, brief lines punctuated with dashes on smooth shiny paper in a delicate font, and the
reader sensed immediately a man of mind and world. Herr Dr Feld now brought a new magazine into existence. It was richly endowed and appeared irregularly, not because it lacked money but, rather, because its publisher and creator considered irregularity a quintessential characteristic of refinement.

All the wealthy members of the family and their distant relatives subscribed to this magazine. It had a somewhat obscure name. It was called
The Blue Margin,
and I guessed that Herr Dr Feld himself had devised the name. Many collaborators spent their Wednesday afternoons at Frau Margarete Sedan's. She wore wondrous clothes and gained a little weight. She met all sorts. A young lecturer in history was recommended to her. He came and gave lectures on Napoleon to a small group. Within the circle that surrounded Margarete Russia was in vogue. Margarete began to learn Russian. Her teacher was a refugee Russian engineer with no papers and no money. He liked to speak of the cruelty of the Bolsheviks, and one could tell that he had lived through it. He favoured all people who were upset by revolutions. It was quite agreeable to please these people, because it was they who had money. The engineer gave Russian lessons to many women. He was a small agile man with a bald head and deep little watery eyes. Margarete said there was something demonic about him. Herr Sedan spoke with him about electricity. Occasionally the engineer switched to business. He had dealings with the film industry, and he sold equipment on commission. He rejected nothing. He accepted
everything that came across his path. For a time he ran the publicity for a Russian cabaret. In the winter he accompanied the Sedan family to Switzerland. In the winter's calm of a health resort, in the face of the majestic mountains, something must have happened that induced Herr Sedan to decide to divorce Margarete. The engineer found other students. Margarete returned to Perlefter's house.

So there she was. Frau Perlefter cried for three weeks. Margarete came to the divorce proceedings in chaste high-necked clothes. Her lawyer said, ‘Lovely.' In the evening Tante Kempen arrived with a new suggestion. Herr Perlefter was going to a sanatorium in an effort to recover. He would give some thought to a new son-in-law later. But scarcely a day before his departure Margarete brought a bank official to the house whom everyone liked because he was so modest. Perlefter postponed his travels. Two weeks later Margarete married her bank official. Herr Perlefter took him into business. Suddenly Dr Feld was back. He began to opine from within the pages of
The Blue Margin.
Margarete promised to provide the means. He bought her jewellery, and a week later the whole world could see her picture in
The Blue Margin.
The Wednesday afternoon gatherings lived once more.

Margarete was fat again. As soon as she married she grew, and nothing could help her. Every morning she did gymnastics. A masseur was recommended, a noted masseur who served the most distinguished houses in the city and commanded the highest prices. He was a
handsome muscular man in leather leggings with a wide mouth and white healthy teeth. The bank official was jealous, but it was no use. He played no role at all in the household. When Margarete was in a good mood she stretched out her hand to him. He had to kiss it. When he wanted to speak she interrupted him. Eventually he began to brew tea, tend to the hearth, fetch water and run to the pharmacy. He wanted to be useful. He recounted to patient listeners school stories and anecdotes about life on the stock exchange. He was, unfortunately, a bad storyteller, and from his first sentence one could already predict the end of his story. Dr Feld despised him. Dr Feld was practically as revered as the masseur. Margarete confessed her sorrows to him. The bank official was dumb enough to defend the accuracy of the scales. He wanted to prove that the masseur was superfluous, but he demonstrated only his own expendability.