The festivals in Wandernburg today, Professor Mietter said swallowing a morsel of cake, masquerade as religious but in fact they are profane. They are a feast for the senses and, if I may say so, encourage wanton behaviour. Faith ends with such festivals and carnival begins. Professor, said Hans, wouldn't you agree that true faith has never been exactly widespread? Perhaps some princes have a real interest in Lutheranism. But I don't suppose they'd be against appropriating the Church's lands either. You are incapable, said Professor Mietter, of seeing beyond the most naive materialism. Luther laid bare his times. He made the Vatican look like fools. He uncovered their lies. He held a mirror up to their faces. That is why they declared him an apostate and excommunicated him. These are real events. My dear Professor, said Herr Levin, far be it from me to defend Roman Catholic dogma, which, as you know, is not my passion in life. But let us accept that this was no simple rebellion, and that notwithstanding the Church's abuses, the Reformation was, ahem, excellent business for the northern princes. Remember that Luther himself advised them to wipe out the peasants who had rebelled in allegiance with his ideas. These are also real events. You interpret them, said Professor Mietter, from a very personal point of view. As we all do, said Hans. Isn't that what you call
libre examen
?
Frau Pietzine was following the conversation with increasing unease, as though each argument were endangering her own convictions. She thought of her adored father confessor, clutched her necklace and said: Professor, why don't you discuss these matters with Father Pigherzog? He is an erudite man, like yourself, a sensitive man who would do anything for
his parishioners. Although you follow different doctrines, I am sure you would find it interesting. (That man, dear lady, said the professor, is a bureaucrat, a seller of indulgences.) Don't be unjust towards Father Pigherzog! He is a true comfort and a guide to many of his parishioners. I agree, Herr Gottlieb nodded, speaking of which, my child, how long is it since you confessed? (Oh Father, sighed Sophie, as if I had the time!) Well, one of these Sundays. (Remember our agreement, she said, I go to Mass with you on Sundays and you stop insisting.) I know, my child, but just for once, occasionally, it wouldn't ⦠(Oh Father! said Sophie brightly. Your pipe is blocked, shall I fetch you some fresh tobacco?)
Staring down at his whiskers, which appeared to be giving off smoke, Herr Gottlieb murmured: Bertold, tobacco.
Hans became absorbed for a while watching Sophie's restless hands and waiting for her lips to purse slightly when she made a comment. Hearing Herr Levin mention Kant, he turned his attention back to the conversation and waited his turn to speak. On the subject of religion, Hans said with a shrug, I simply follow Kant's example. I doubt I shall ever understand the mysteries of the divine, and in the meantime there are many more unresolved matters here on earth. (Once again, Herr Hans, said Professor Mietter disapprovingly, you reduce human knowledge to the empirical, you are incapable of abstract thought, you haven't gone beyond Hume.) On the contrary, Professor, on the contrary, I would say I expand it, empirical thought seems to me infinite! And I believe when little old reason ceases to bow to a superior power, it comes up against the biggest unknown of allâhow to understand the world without any help from the divine, is this what you mean by limiting knowledge? (And I say to you, replied Professor Mietter, that if we dispense with the divine, our reason is left empty-handed.) That depends, I didn't say I was opposed to any form of divinity.
For me divinity is our two feet on the ground, don't you see? (An interesting thought, ventured Herr Levin, but what of the higher emotions? Do we not explore the world through them? To what realm does a heartfelt prayer or a Bach cantata belong? Do Bach's cantatas have their feet on the ground, or â¦)
If you'll allow me, said Sophie, joining in the debate, I don't see why higher emotions cannot also spring from reason, why they need to be separated. For example? asked Herr Levin. For example in chess, Hans agreed, his eyes fixed on Sophie's moist lips, isn't it possible to be moved by the inexorability of a checkmate? I mean, don't you consider that thinking to the limits of our possibility ennobles our spirit? I don't know, Sophie said very slowly staring at Hans's chin, if I'm able to play chess.
Sophie opened her lips to cool them. Hans's mind was no longer on Kant, although it was occupied with empirical knowledge.
The other members of the salon resumed their conversation about national religiosity. Professor Mietter railed against the Council of Trent. Herr Gottlieb spoke of an understanding between the different creeds. Herr Levin referred to the influence of Semitic studies and astronomy. Frau Pietzine extolled the Eucharist. Sophie tried to moderate the discussion, giving everyone a chance to speak, and doing her best to weave together the different themes. Ãlvaro and Hans whispered to each other, heads together. Gentlemen, gentlemen, Sophie said in a tone of light-hearted reprimand, pray do not leave us out of your reflections, they give every indication of being fascinating. As a matter of fact, Ãlvaro smiled, we weren't engaged in any great discussion, you are already familiar with our religious limitations.
Ãlvaro looked around him and saw that everyone was staring at him in silence. Very well, he said clearing his throat, a moment ago I was saying to Hans that countries that failed to undergo their own Reformation, such as Spain, Italy and Portugal, were obliged, as it were, to come up with a home-grown
alternativeâanticlericalism. What else were we to do, take Communion every Sunday, absolve our sins, and support the Inquisition? However, out of self-respect, we Spanish anticlericalists ended up rejecting every kind of religious manifestation. What worries me is that one day we may no longer be able to enjoy St John, St Teresa or St Augustine. And I think you Germans had an easier time of it, you had Luther, Bach and Lessing who acted as partial counterweights. For over half a century all we have had is Father Feijóo, may he rest in peace. You Germans invented the Reformation, and we Spaniards the Counter-Reformation, you split into two and we drove the other half out, just think what a difference (ahem, quite, said Herr Levin, but remember there weren't two halves but three thirds, in the old Spain there were at least three religions, not forgetting the Toledo School, all those Christians, Jews and Muslims translating, ahem, as I mentioned before, works of astronomy and theology, naturally, not to mention Juan Hispalense, who), yes, yes, but that was centuries ago and since then there has been nothing, absolutely nothing. For centuries Spanish Catholicism has refused to cohabit with any other creeds or denominations, making it almost impossible to think seriously about God. You Germans on the other hand are capable of looking Christianity straight in the face and giving it a piece of your mind; you can dialogue with it without worshipping it or detesting it completely, you can even try to understand its reasons, and I admire you for that! (Bravo! said Professor Mietter sardonically, you speak like a Protestant!) I, on the other hand, cannotâI see a crucifix and my blood begins to boil. And then I am no longer capable of listening or of understanding a word, despite having been educated by monks. But perhaps German secularism is more logical. (Ah, said Herr Levin, incidentally, speaking of Lessing, let me tell you that besides being admirably logical he was an infamous anti-Semite. Being persecuted for his ideas did not
prevent him turning his back on a persecuted people. Deep down, that is typically Jewish. Let go of my arm, will you dear.)
Frau Levin murmured a few words into her husband's ear, Professor Mietter remarked on the difference between secularism and being non-religious, Frau Pietzine asked him what the difference was, and everyone went back to talking at once. Sophie did her best to order the debate, and, as she smiled and calmed this or that guest, she tried to eavesdrop on Ãlvaro and Hans who were once more whispering to each other, heads together. The whispers she was unable to hear at that moment went as follows: (⦠Yes, Ãlvaro, I'm not saying it isn't, just that the Reformation also created a misunderstanding, do you see? There are numerous churches here all springing from the same damned branch. People here may have accustomed, or resigned, themselves to a certain coexistence, but it is because of these religious differences that many think they look to other religions for a solution, and ⦠Have you noticed the way Frau Pietzine is fondling her necklace? She looks as if she's playing with herself ⦠Shh! You idiot, they can hear us! ⦠But do you see what I mean, Hans? Yes, I see, what I'm saying is that here a discontented Catholic might be tempted by Protestantism, or vice versa, and consequently, yes, now you mention it, she is fondling her necklace as if ⦠Anyway, that means both churches lose out, yet religion always triumphs. For the Spaniards on the other hand, albeit by dint of atrocities, things are much clearer, look at you ⦠Ah, Hans, how much happier foreigners always seem, don't they? You can say that again! That necklace is making me nervous â¦)
Ãlvaro and Hans laughed. As the laughter made their heads pull apart, Sophie was able to pour them some tea without appearing intrusive. Hans understood that she was rebuking them not for whispering in private, but because they were excluding her from their reprehensible conversation, which was the sort she
preferred. Hans explained in hushed tones as she filled their cups and her neckline gave slightly: We were talking discreetly about the necessity of God's non-existence so as not to offend your father. Ãlvaro added sardonically: I hope we haven't offended you either. Well, Sophie replied, I had moments of devoutness in my teens. And then? asked Hans. And then, gentlemen, Sophie grinned, straightening up, I made a full recovery. A recovery, my child? Herr Gottlieb enquired, pricking up his whiskers. From my migraines, Father! She wheeled round. Do you remember my dreadful migraines?
Well, gentlemen? Professor Mietter said, under the impression the two men had been criticising him. In short, Professor, said Hans, we think Catholicism and Protestantism are based on equivalent sources of authorityâone cites an infallible institution, and the other an irrefutable book. Sophie tried to make the professor feel he wasn't under attackâDon Quixote also set great store by the latter. Yes, replied Ãlvaro, but he was shrewd enough to find a shield-bearer who had never read a novel in his life.
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Their hands clasped in the air, first position, then raised in an arch above the head, while his other hand slips round her waist, second position, until their arms are in line with one another and he puts one foot forward as though testing the ground, and she withdraws as if to say “wait”, third position, but suddenly she relents, some strands of hair work loose, and she brings her legs together, waiting for him to bend forward and takeâHow tortuous, thought Hans, who can do that?âtake one of her hands over his shoulder and the other at waist level, fourth position, so that he is now bending down virtually tied into a knot, and for a moment she has him in her power, trapped from behind, as long as he doesn't stand up, fifth position, but now he straightens upâHow did he do that? thought Hans. Where did he put his
arms?âforming a perfect ring by looping his forearm inside hers, so that they are facing one another again, their hands intertwined as in a lovers' toast, my glass is your glass (Hans gripped his glass uneasily), until finally, sixth position, they have turned full circle and the embrace is complete, he places his arm round her neck and his hand under her arm (He touched her! The swine is touching her!) and she drags her heel backwards while her partner slides his leg forward and remains motionless, proud, balancing on one foot, the toe of his shoe touching the infernal dance floor in the Apollo TheatreâSophie had just danced an allemande with a man Hans did not know.
He breathed in and plucked up his courage. Before walking towards Sophie, he repeated the words several times over in his head so he would become accustomed to them, so they wouldn't sound humiliating. Sophie pretended she hadn't seen him approaching her from the sideâshe adopted an absent-minded look, but in the meantime centred the neck of her dress and smoothed the rebellious curl, which instead of forming a bass clef on her cheek was intent on tickling her earlobe. Sophie started, pretended to start, when Hans touched her shoulder as someone might tentatively ring a door bell thinking “Please let there be someone at home”. My dear Hans, declared Sophie, how delightful to see you here, I thought you wouldn't come, I had almost forgotten about you.
Hans ran over the sentence again and then, eyes half-closed, pronounced it out loud. His own voice seemed to boom in his ears. Teach me to dance, he said. I came here so you would teach me to dance. Sophie's eyes lit up, her lips flushed and her curl sprang out of place. Arms akimbo, she squeezed her waist, it felt ticklish. She replied: Why didn't you ask me before, silly?
She led him to the least crowded part of the dance floor. I'll begin by teaching you the basic steps, she said, so that at least you stop moving like a duck. Don't be offended, I've always liked
ducks. The steps are the same in almost every dance, and once you've mastered them we can try a minuet, which is the most suitable dance for us, remember your partner is a respectable young woman about to be married! No, don't worry, it doesn't bother me, on the contrary, I'm only reminding you because when I start to dance I'm the one who sometimes forgets about my engagement and being respectable. What? Yes, I can imagine, all right, well, it was a joke.
Hans felt embarrassed by these exercises and asked Sophie if she would teach him the minuet straight away. Are you sure? she said, looking down at his feet. Hans nodded gravely. Sophie agreed, and as the orchestra had just started playing a complicated quadrille, she began explaining the minuet close, very close, to his ear. She told him it was quite a slow dance in three-four time, that the couple didn't have to twirl, that it was French, that is to say elegant but not very lively, that it was already going out of fashion, although people still danced it, particularly married couples of a certain age. (Are you teaching me a dance for old people? said Hans. No, Sophie giggled, I'm showing you the only dance you'll be able to manage tonight without falling over.) And she went on describing close, very close to his ear, the different steps. She took him by the arm, and, moving back slightly, told him about the “Z” on the floor, the man's right hand, the couple's left hands, about the last but one step and the final sequence of “Zs” before the dancers raise their arms and end saluting one another from opposite corners. (All very chaste, for real ladies and real gentlemen, that's why we young couples no longer want to dance it.)