Chapter 44 in the onion cellar

We love the Rhine meadows, and the tavern owner Ferdinand Schmuel also loves the right bank of the Rhine between Düsseldorf and Kaiserswert.We often rehearse pieces on Stockum.Shi Mu with his small-caliber rifle looked for sparrows among the hedges and bushes on the bank slopes.This is his hobby, and he also takes a break from it.When Shi Mu ran into trouble in business, he asked his wife to sit behind the wheel of a Mercedes.They drove down the river, parked the car on Stockum, and the slightly flat-footed man walked down with the gun and walked across the grass, pulling his wife because she would have preferred to stay in the car.He left her on a boulder on the bank where one could comfortably stay, and he disappeared between the hedges.We played our ragtime music and he fired guns in the bushes.We are playing music, and Shi Mu is playing mahjong.

-------- ① Ragtime, an early jazz music originating from African-American bands. Scholler, like Klepp, knows all the tavernkeepers in the old city. When a gunshot is fired in the greenery, he will say: "Shi Mu is shooting sparrows." Shi Mu is no longer alive, so I can move my eulogy here: Shi Mu is a good shooter, and a good man if possible, because Shi Mu has small caliber bullets in the left pocket of his jacket when he shoots mahjong , but the right pocket of his jacket was full of bird feed.Not before the shooting, but after the shooting, he generously sprinkled the feed to the sparrows, because Shi Mu only shot a dozen sparrows at most in an afternoon.

When Schmuel was still alive, that is, in November 1949, on a cool morning after we had been rehearsing on the banks of the Rhine for several weeks, he said to us not in a low voice but deliberately loudly: "Gentlemen Playing music here, driving away the birds, tell me how to hunt birds!" "Oh," said Klepp apologetically, holding up his flute as if to salute a gun, "it is you, sir, who are musical, and when you shot here and there in the hedges, the sound of the guns closed our eyes. The rhythm of the tune is extremely precise. I salute you, Mr. Shimu!" Shi Mu was very happy because Klepp knew his name, but he still asked Klepp where he knew his name.Klepp's face was warm: how could he not know?Everyone knows Shi Mu.You can hear people saying on the street: Shi Mu is gone, Shi Mu is here, did you see Shi Mu just now?Where is Shi Mu today?Shi Mu is playing mahjong.

Klepp's remarks described him as the well-known Shi Mu.Shi Mu handed us cigarettes, asked our names, and expressed his willingness to listen to us play a piece of repertoire, and heard a piece of "Tiger Reg".He then beckoned to his wife, who was sitting on a rock in a fur coat, looking dreamily at the waves of the Rhine.She came in a fur coat, so we had to play again, and we played "The High Society" brilliantly.We played, and she, in her fur coat, said: "Ferdy, isn't this exactly what you were looking for for the cellar?" He seemed to take a similar view, and believed he was looking for us and found us, But first you have to think about it, calculate it, and throw a few flat stones quite deftly, and jump across the water of the Rhine.Then he proposed: playing in the Onion Cellar, from 9pm to 2am, ten marks per person per night, well, let's say twelve marks!Klepp asked for seventeen marks, so that Shi Mu could offer fifteen marks.But Shi Mu only agreed to give fourteen marks and fifty pfennigs.That's how we settled.

-------- ①Ferdinand's nickname. From the street, the Onion Cellar looked like one of those new eateries.The difference between them and the old restaurants is that they are expensive.The reason for the high price can be considered to be due to the strange internal equipment and layout of these places, which are mostly called artist taverns, and also because the names of these taverns are unique, such as "dumpling restaurant" which is inconspicuous, and "taboo restaurant" which has a mysterious existential flavor. ", as hot as "chili", and of course "onion cellar".

The words "The Onion Cellar" on the enamel signboard and an onion with a strong childish feel are purposely clumsily written and drawn.The signboard is hung on a carved cast iron frame in front of the main entrance according to the old German custom.The only window, with bull's-eye glass, was the green of a beer mug.A vermilion-lacquered iron door that may have been used to close a bomb shelter in bad times.In front of the door stood a doorman in a country-style sheepskin coat.Not everyone has access to an onion cellar.Especially on Fridays, when a week's wages would turn into beer, the old town brethren were kept out, and the onion cellar was too expensive for them.Those who are allowed to enter will find five steps behind the vermilion gate. After walking down, they will reach a one-meter-square platform. A poster of Picasso's painting exhibition decorates the platform in a dignified and unique way. Then go down the steps. This time it is four steps. , opposite is the cloakroom. "Pay when you pick up!" read a small cardboard sign, and the boys in the cloakroom—probably bearded art school students for the job—would never ask for money at reception.Onion cellars are expensive, but they are also reliable and genuine.

The boss greets every visitor personally, with joyful eyebrows and lively gestures, as if he has to follow a set of religious reception etiquette for every guest who comes.As we know, the owner's name is Ferdinand Schmuel, who sometimes goes to play mahjong, but has a good eye for the society that has rapidly developed in Düsseldorf after the currency reform.Elsewhere, it has developed more slowly. The Onion Cellar would have been a real, even a bit dank cellar, which is a sign of the solidity of this thriving nightclub.We may liken it to a long, freezing room, about four by eighteen, heated by two small round iron stoves, also original from the cellar.Naturally, the cellar was no longer a cellar at all.The ceiling has been removed and extended upwards to the ground floor housing.So, the only windows in the onion cellar are not the original cellar windows, but the original windows of the ground floor housing.This slightly tarnishes the authenticity of this thriving nightclub, making it a bit of a misnomer.If people can look out of the window, then there is no need to inlay bull's-eye glass.In the upward extension of the cellar a cloister was built, accessible by a chicken coop ladder, which is indeed the real original.Perhaps the Onion Cellar could be called a faithful and reliable nightclub, although the Cellar isn't really a cellar anymore.But why does it have to be a real cellar?

Oscar forgot to mention that the chicken coop ladder leading to the cloister is not a real chicken coop ladder, but a kind of gangway, because the left and right ends of this very steep ladder can be tied with real clotheslines.The ladder is a bit wobbly, reminiscent of a boat trip, which also drives up the price of The Onion Cellar. The miners' calcium carbide lamps illuminate the onion cellars and smell of carbide.This raises the price again and makes Onion Cellars pay to be in a tunnel in, say, a potash mine at a depth of 950 meters: diggers work shirtless in front of the rock, drilling a Mineral veins, electric rakes shovel salt, windlasses roar, filling gutters.Far behind, where the tunnel turns into the Friedrichhall lift II, a lamp flickers.And this is the foreman, he came and said: "Go to the well safely!" Shaking a calcium carbide lamp.It was exactly like the calcium carbide lamps that hung on the hastily painted walls of the Onion Cellar.These lamps are used for lighting, smell bad, raise prices, and create a unique atmosphere.

The seats are uncomfortable, the ordinary wooden boxes are covered with onion sacks, and the wooden table tops are scrubbed clean, like a peaceful farmhouse that lures visitors from the mine. Similar scenes can sometimes be seen in movies. that's it!What about the wine cabinet?There is no wine cooler.Mr. Head Waiter, give me a menu!There is neither a head waiter nor a menu.The only thing that can be mentioned is our "Rhine Trio".Klepp, Scholler, and Oskar sat under the chicken coop ladder, which would have been a gangway.They arrived at nine o'clock, took out their instruments, and started playing music around ten o'clock.However, the current time is just fifteen past nine, so it is not too late to talk about us later.Now Shimu had to look at those fingers, the fingers with which Shimu sometimes held the small-bore rifle.When the Onion Cellar is full—half full is considered full—Shi Mu, the boss, puts on a scarf.Square scarf, silk, diamond blue, printed and dyed with patterns, special patterns.This is mentioned because wearing a scarf has its own meaning.The printed pattern can be called golden onion.Only when Shi Mu wears this square scarf can it be said that the onion cellar is open for business.

The guests were: businessmen, doctors, lawyers, artists, stage artists, journalists, people from the film industry, well-known sportsmen, high-level state and city officials, in short, all the people who are called intellectuals today, accompanied by Mrs. Girlfriend, female secretary, female arts and crafts artist, and male girlfriend.As long as Shi Mu hadn't wrapped up the golden onion-patterned scarf, they sat on the wooden box covered with burlap, chatted, lowered their voices, chatted laboriously, and chatted almost depressingly.They want to talk, but they can't talk, they think well, and they digress as soon as they talk; It is impossible to take out all the words in the lungs, without going through the brain, to let people see the truth, to see the naked real person.Here and there there are vague references to failed careers, wrecked marriages.This gentleman, with his large, intelligent head and soft, almost slender hands, seemed to be alienated from his son, who resented his father's past.Two ladies, in mink fur coats and looking gorgeous under calcium carbide lamps, talked about their loss of faith, but not what they had lost their faith in.We also don't know anything about the past of the big-headed gentleman, and they didn't talk about the difficulties the son caused his father because of this past.It's like before laying eggs, please forgive Oscar's metaphor, squeeze, squeeze...

They lay their eggs in the onion cellar, but couldn't squeeze them out, until the boss, Shi Mu, showed up wearing a special handkerchief, and greeted a joyful "ah" from all four.He thanked him, and then disappeared behind the curtain at the end of the onion cellar, where the washroom and storage room were.A few minutes later, he came back. Why was there a happier, half-rescued "ah" when the proprietor stood before his guests again?The owner of a thriving nightclub hides behind the curtain, takes something out of the storage room, scolds the woman in charge of the bathroom who is sitting there reading a pictorial, and then comes to the curtain again, like a savior, like a miracle Welcomed like my uncle. Shi Mu came among his guests with a small basket on his arm.The small basket is covered with a piece of yellow and blue checkered cloth.There are many small wooden boards in the shape of pigs or fish placed on the cloth.The boss Shi Mu distributes these scrubbed wooden boards to the visitors.He bowed his head and made a series of compliments, which revealed that Shi Mu had spent time in Budapest and Vienna in his youth.Shi Mu's smile is like the smile on a replica painted on a supposed replica of the real Mona Lisa. The guests took the small boards seriously.Some even asked for a replacement.This gentleman likes pig-shaped ones, but that gentleman or lady does not want ordinary domestic pig-shaped ones, but prefers a more mysterious fish-shaped one.They sniffed the little board and pushed it around.After the owner Shi Mu delivered the small wooden boards to the guests in the corridor, he waited quietly until every small wooden board was still. At this time, all hearts were waiting for him, and he lifted the cover like a magician, and there was a second piece of cloth underneath, which was placed on it. At first glance, you can't recognize what it is, but you will know it when you look again. It's a kitchen knife. Like distributing small wooden boards just now, Shi Mu is now distributing knives in circles.This time he picked up the speed and increased the tension, which also allowed him to increase the price.He stopped saying compliments, and he didn't ask people to change the knife. His actions were as hurried as dispensing medicine. "Well, take care, go!" he cried, throwing the cloth off the basket, reaching into the basket, and distributing, dividing, giving among the people.Merciful benefactor, entertaining guests, giving them onions, the same golden, slightly stylized ones seen on his kerchief, regular onions, bulbous plants, not bulb onions, bought by housewives onions sold by a vegetable vendor, onions grown and harvested by a man farmer, a woman farmer or a woman farmhand.Onions with varying degrees of fidelity can be seen in still life paintings by young Dutch painters.The proprietor, Shi Mu, distributed these and similar onions to his guests until everyone had had onions, until only the rumbling of the small round stove and the singing of the calcium carbide lamps were heard.After the onions were divided, there was silence.So Ferdinand Schmuel shouted: "Gentlemen, please!" After that, he threw the end of the scarf over his left shoulder, just like a skier throws his scarf back before he starts to ski, and he sent out a message. a signal. The guests peeled the onions by hand.Onions are said to have seven layers of skin.Ladies and gentlemen, peel the onion with a kitchen knife.They peel off the first, third, golden, blond, rusty brown, or rather onion-colored skin until the onion is transparent, light green, white, moist, sticky and juicy, and the smell comes out, Onion smell.Then, as they usually cut onions, they chopped them, some clumsily and others dexterously, on little planks shaped like pigs and fishes, cutting in this direction or that, and the onion juice splashed and spread into the air.Elderly gentlemen, who do not know how to handle kitchen knives, must be careful not to cut their own fingers; some have cut their fingers without realizing it.Ladies are more handy, but not everyone is.Ladies who are housewives know how to cut onions in general, such as serving fried potatoes or liver with apple slices and onion rings.But in Shimu's onion cellar there is neither this nor that, there is nothing to eat, and whoever wants to eat has to go elsewhere, to the "fish restaurant" instead of the onion cellar, here only Sliced ​​onions.why?Because this place is called The Onion Cellar, and that's what makes it special.Because the onion, the chopped onion, if you look carefully... No, Shi Mu's guest can't see anything.Or, there are some guests who can't see anything, and their eyes are full of tears, but not because their hearts are full.When the heart is full, there must be tears in the eyes, but you can't say that.Some never will, especially in recent or past decades.Henceforth our century will always be called the century without tears, despite all the misery.Because of the lack of tears, those who can afford it go to the onion cellar and ask the boss for eighty pfennigs for a small board in the shape of a pig or fish and a kitchen knife for twelve marks. A common kitchen onion that grows in the field or garden, cut it into small pieces, small pieces, until the juice creates it... Create what?Created what the world and the pain of the world did not create: the teardrops of round men.Here weep.Here it is finally crying again.Cry with dignity, cry without hindrance, and cry it all out freely.Here the river is surging and overflowing.It's raining here.Dew is falling here.Oscar closed the open floodgate.The embankment broke, and the spring tide surged.What is the name of the river that floods every year without the government taking precautions?After the natural phenomenon bought for twelve marks and eighty pfennigs happened, those who had cried enough began to speak.Still hesitating, amazed at the openness of what they were saying, the guests of the onion cellar, after enjoying their onions, were finally appreciative of their The neighbor confided in his heart, and he was asked to find out the truth, and turned inside out like a coat.But Oskar, sitting tearlessly with Klepp and Scholler under the ladder of the henhouse, wants to keep it a secret, and out of all the confessions, remorse, confessions, revelations, confessions, he only wants to tell about Miss Pioch anecdotes.She lost her Mr. Vollmer again and again, and thus became hard-hearted and tearless, and had to come again and again to Schmuel's overpriced onion cellar. -------- ①The words come from the "Bible New Testament Matthew": "For out of the heart, the mouth speaks." The following is developed from this. When Miss Pioch had cried enough, she said, We met on the tram.I came from the store—she was the owner and manager of a first-class bookstore—and the tram was packed.Willie, Mr. Vollmer, trampled on my right foot.I couldn't stand it anymore, but the two of us fell in love at first sight.I couldn't walk, so he stretched out his hand to help me, accompany me, or to be precise, carried me back to my house. From that day on, he took good care of the toenail that was turned blue and black by his stepping on it.In addition, he was not lacking in expressions of love in front of me until the nail on the big toe on his right foot fell off and there was nothing to hinder the growth of a new one.The day his dead toenail fell off, his love also cooled.We were both distressed by the shrinking of his love.He's still attached to me, and we both have so much in common.So Willie made that terrible suggestion: Let me step on your left big toe until the nail turns red and blue, and then blue and black!I gave in, and he stepped on it.I enjoyed his love immediately and fully until the nail on my left big toe fell off like a dead leaf.Our love has experienced its autumn again.During this time, the toenail on my right big toe has grown.In order to serve me again in love, Willie steps on my right foot again.But I won't allow him to do that.I say, if your love is really great and true, it must outlive the nails of your toes.He didn't understand me and left me.A few months later, we met again in the concert hall.After the break, he sat next to me without asking, and the seat next to me happened to be vacant.It was Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, and when the chorus began to sing, I stretched out my right foot toward him, having taken off my shoe beforehand.He stepped on it, and I didn't yell to disrupt the concert.Seven weeks later, Willie passed away again.We also got together once or twice, for a few weeks at a time, because I gave him my foot twice more, once with my left foot and once with my right foot.Now, both my big toes are disabled.Toenails no longer grow.Willie came to see me sometimes, sitting on the rug in front of me, full of pity for me and for himself, but without love or tears, gazing excitedly at the victim of our love, the two nailless toes.I sometimes say to him: Willie, come on, let's go to Shimu's onion farm together, let's cry a lot.However, to this day, he still refuses to come together.The poor man did not understand that tears are great comforters. And then—and this is all Oscar reveals, to satisfy the curious among you—Mr. Vollmer, a radio dealer, also came to our cellar.The two of them cried together.According to Klepp, who came to visit me yesterday, they got married not long ago. From Tuesday to Saturday—the Onion Cellar is closed on Sundays—guests, after feasting on the onions, vented their pent-up real tragedy of human existence.What is reserved for Monday's guests is no longer the saddest weeper, but the most violent one.Mondays are cheap.Shi Mu supplies the youth with onions at half the price.Most of the people who came were male medical college students and various female college students.Male college students from the Art Academy also came, but mainly those who would later become painting teachers and spent part of their scholarships on onions.What I still have doubts about is: where do the male and female students in the highest class of middle school get the money to buy onions? Young people cry differently than older people.The problems of young people are also completely different.Not always worrying about exams or Baccalaureate or whatever.In the onion cellar, of course, some people talked about conflicts between father and son, tragedies between mother and daughter, and so on.Although young people feel misunderstood, they don't think being understood is worth crying about.Oscar is pleased that young people, as always, cry for love, not just for love of the sexes.Gerhard and Gudrun, they always sat down at first, and then they went up to the corridor to cry together. She is tall, strong, a female handball player, and studies chemistry.The hair was pulled back in a braid.Pale and motherly, as could be seen on Women's League posters in the years leading up to the end of the war.Her eyes are clear, mostly straight ahead.Her forehead was raised, milky white, smooth, and healthy, yet her misfortune was clearly visible on her face.From the Adam's apple to the strong round chin to the cheeks there was the bad mark of a man's beard, though the unfortunate woman shaves constantly.Naturally, her delicate skin couldn't stand the razor blade.Her face was red and split, with small pus-shaped scars, and her woman's beard kept growing, and Gudrun wept.Gerhard came to the Onion Cellar later.The two of them met not on the tram, as Miss Pioch and Mr Vollmer did, but on the train.He sat across from her, both of whom had just returned from their school holidays.He immediately fell in love with her, regardless of her beard.Even if she dared not love him because of her own beard, she admired Gerhard's child's smooth chin, which was his misfortune.The young man had no beard, which made him shy around young girls.Gerhard, however, accosted Gudrun, and by the time they got off at the Düsseldorf train station, they had at least struck up a friendship.From that day on, they met every day, they talked about this and that, and exchanged some ideas, but they never mentioned the beard that should have but did not have and the beard that should not have but kept growing.Gerhard is also considerate of Gudrun, never kissing her because of her tortured skin.So their love is pure, although neither of them cares about purity, because her interest is chemistry, and he wants to be a medical scientist.A friend of the two of them told them that there was such an onion cellar.But they only smiled back with disdain, for skepticism is a trait shared by chemists and physicians.In the end they went anyway, but they assured each other that the purpose was to investigate.Oscar had rarely seen young people cry like this.They come again and again, saving six marks and forty pfennigs from their mouths, crying over the beards they should have but didn't have and the beards that ravage the delicate skin of girls.A few times, they tried to avoid the onion cellar.They didn't come one Monday, but the next Monday they came again, tearing up diced onions with their fingers and revealing, weeping, that they wanted to save the six marks and forty pfennigs.The two experimented with cheap onions in college dorms, but the results were not the same as they were in the onion cellar.Everyone needs an audience.It's much easier to cry in groups.When in the corridors to the left, to the right, and above, students from this or that department, art college students, and secondary school students all shed tears, there was a real feeling of commonality. As a result of Gerhard and Gudrun's visit to the onion cellar, apart from tears, they were slowly healed.It may be that the tears washed away their mental depression.They approached each other, as is often said, he kissed her tortured skin, she kissed his smooth skin, and from a certain day onwards they stopped coming to the onion cellar, it was no longer necessary.Oskar met them a few months later in King's Boulevard and at first did not recognize either of them.He, bare-jawed Gerhard, had a thick red-gold beard.She, prickly-skinned Gudrun, has only a touch of black hair above her upper lip, which does her face no harm.Gudron's cheeks and chin had a dull luster, and the weeds were no longer overgrown.The two have formed a couple of college students.Oscar listened, and they were like fifty-year-olds telling their grandchildren.She, Gudrun said: "Once upon a time, when your grandfather didn't have a beard—" he, Gerhard said: "Once upon a time, when your grandma was troubled by growing a beard, we two All to the onion cellar." The reader will ask, why do you three musicians still sit under the gangway or the chicken coop ladder?When the onion cellar is full of cries, howls, and gnashing of teeth, why bother to regularly invite such a serious band? Yes, the three of us, after the guests have cried their tears and poured out their hearts, we played the instruments, and used music to make the guests transition into the daily conversation, so that they could leave the onion cellar with ease, so that the new guests Free up your seat.Klepp, Schöller and Oscar are against the onion.There is also a clause in the contract we signed with Shimu that forbids us to enjoy onions in a similar way as guests.We didn't need onions either.Scholer, the guitarist, had no reason to complain, and was always seen happy and content, even when two strings on his banjo snapped in the middle of a ragtime.In the mind of my friend Klepp, the concepts of crying and laughing are still vague.He found it joyful to cry, and at the burial of his aunt—who washed his shirts and socks for him until he married—he laughed as loudly as I had never seen him before.So what about the Oscars?Oscar had enough reason to burst into tears.Shouldn't the tears wash away Sister Dorothea and the long, useless night on the coir rug?My Maria, is not she the source of my complaints?Wasn't her boss, Stanzel, in and out of Birke's apartment?Didn't little Kurt, my son, meet the gourmet shop owner and carnival attendee first "Uncle Stanzel" and then "Father Stanzel"?Behind my Maria, they, my poor mother, Jan Bronski, the chef Matzerath, who only expresses his feelings in soup, are not all lying under the loose sand of the Saspe cemetery in the distance or cloth Underneath the clay in Lundau Cemetery?Of course it takes a lot of crying for them.Yet Oscar is one of the happy few who can cry without onions.My drums help me.It only takes a few bars, and Oscar finds tears, not bad, just like the expensive tears of the Onion Cellar. Boss Shi Mu also never fiddles with onions.The sparrows he had shot in the hedges and bushes in his rest would have substituted for the onion, and were worth as much.After Shi Mu shot the sparrows, he arranged the twelve sparrows on a newspaper, and his tears fell on these twelve feathers that were sometimes gentle.Is it not often seen that he is still weeping when he spreads the black fodder over the Rhine meadows and the pebbly banks?In the onion cellar, it provided him with another outlet for the pain in his heart.Once a week he had become in the habit of swearing roughly at the lavatory maid.He often called her by rather old-fashioned names, such as: whore, pheasant, whore, slut, broom star. "Get out!" Shi Mu screamed loudly again, "Get out of my nose, witch!" He immediately fired the woman in charge of the bathroom and replaced it with a new one.After a while, however, he ran into trouble.He could no longer find a woman to run the lavatories and had to hire the woman he had fired one or more times.They were also willing to come back to the Onion Cellar, because they couldn't understand most of Shi Mu's swearing, and more money was earned here.Customers from the Onion Cellar went to the bathroom more than customers from other trattorias because of their crying; and those who cried were more generous than those with dry eyes.Especially the male guests, when their faces are red and swollen from crying, and their faces are full of tears, they are willing to give more tips when they "go to the back".The lavatory maid also sold the Onion Cellar's customers the famous onion-patterned handkerchiefs with the words "In the Onion Cellar" embossed on the diagonal.These ridiculous looking handkerchiefs can not only dry tears, but also can be used as a headscarf.The men of the Onion Cellar had these colorful handkerchiefs sewn into pennants and hung them inside the rear windows of their cars, and during their vacations they sailed to Paris, the Côte d'Azur, Rome, La Venna, Rimini, and even as far away as Spain. We three musicians and our music have another mission.Sometimes, especially after some guests cut two onions in a row, the onion cellar would explode and easily lead to debauchery.Shi Mu didn't like this kind of unscrupulous behavior. When he saw a few gentlemen unbuttoning their ties and women unbuttoning their shirts, he ordered us to play music, and use music to deal with the shameless behavior that had just appeared.But, on the other hand, it was Schmuel himself who, seeing some particularly defenseless guests cut the first onion and then handed over the second, gave them the green light to go from seizure to debauchery, except that he stipulated It's just a limit. The most powerful episode of The Onion Cellar that I know of, it was a profoundly meaningful experience for Oscar, if not a turning point in his life.Shi Mu's wife, Billie, loves to have fun.She doesn't come to the cellar very often, and if she does, she always brings those boyfriends Shi Mu doesn't want to see.She arrives one evening with Wood, the music critic, and Vaclay, the pipe-smoking architect.These two gentlemen were regulars at the Onion Cellar, and carried with them a rather dull wretchedness.Wood cried because of religious reasons. He wanted to convert or had already converted or had converted for the second time.The pipe-smoking Vaclay weeps because he gave up his university professorship in the twenties for an impudent Danish woman who married a South American and bore him six children .It bothered Vaclay, and prevented him from smoking his pipe in peace.A bit insidious, Wood persuaded Shi Mu's wife to chop onions.She cut it, tears came, and began to pour out her heart, exposing the boss Shi Mu.What she said, Oscar properly kept it secret, and will not repeat it to you.When Shi Mu heard this, he rushed towards his wife.It took several strong men to stop it, for there were kitchen knives strewn all over the table.They hold back the raging guy until rash Billie slips away with her boyfriends Wood and Wackley. Shi Mu was excited and flustered.I saw his hands trembling as he repeatedly adjusted his onion kerchief.Several times he went behind the curtain, cursed the bathroom maid, and finally returned with a basket full of onions, forced a smile, and announced to the guests with unnatural glee that he, Shi Mu, was in high spirits today. To be a benefactor, give each guest an onion for free, and then share it with everyone. At that time, even Klepp, who has always felt that such painful experiences in life are like a good show, was dumbfounded. If he was not thoughtful, he was quite nervous.He picked up the flute and prepared to play it.We all understand how dangerous it is to then give these sensitive and well-bred ladies and gentlemen a second chance to cry out of control. Shi Mu, who saw us picking up our instruments and preparing to play, forbade us to play.On tables, kitchen knives begin their chopping work.The layers of beautiful, rosewood-coloured skin had been pushed aside and neglected.The transparent onion flesh with light green streaks was sunk under the chaotic knife.Oddly enough, the crying didn't start with the ladies.Gentlemen of their prime age, a big mill owner, a hotel manager with a lightly powdered boyfriend, a general representative of the nobility, a table full of people who came to town for a board meeting, A factory owner in a gentleman's suit, a bald actor - we call him "Crackling" because he always cracks his teeth when he cries, all these gentlemen, before the ladies help tears.But instead of wallowing in the liberating sobs evoked by the first onion, ladies and gentlemen were overwhelmed by spasmodic sobs. "Crackling" gritted his teeth, which was really scary, like an actor who wanted to lure every audience in the theater to grit his teeth with him.The big mill owner let his well-groomed gray head bump one after another against the table.The hotel manager mixed his weeping convulsions with those of his charming boyfriend.Shi Mu stood beside the ladder, with a straight face, and enjoyed looking at the ladies and gentlemen who had half lost control.At this time, an elderly lady tore her shirt in front of her son-in-law.那位饭店经理的男友，他的色相早已引人注目，此刻光了膀子，露出天然的棕色皮肤，从一张桌子蹦到另一张，跳起舞来。大概是东方舞蹈吧，他宣告一种神秘的宗教仪式开始了。这开端虽然激烈，但由于缺乏想象力或者想象力幼稚可笑，所以不值得详尽地加以描摹。 不仅施穆失望了，连奥斯卡也厌烦地皱起了眉头。一些低级的脱衣场面，几位绅士穿上了女子内衣，男子气概的女士们抓起领带和背带，有几个双双钻到桌子底下。值得一提的倒是那位“格格响”，他用牙齿撕碎了一个胸罩，咀嚼着，也许已经吞下了一部分。 这种可怕的吵闹声，这种毫无内容的“哟喔”、“呜哇”的叫声，八成使施穆失望了。他也可能害怕警察当局，再也站不住了。他向坐在鸡棚梯子下面的我们探过脑袋来，先捅了一下克勒普，随后捅捅我，细声说：“音乐！你们听着，奏乐！奏乐，结束这场胡闹！” 事实表明，容易满足的克勒普开心得很。他笑得前俯后仰，没法吹长笛了。把克勒普当师傅看待的朔勒，是他的跟屁虫，这时也跟着他一起哈哈大笑。这样一来，只剩下奥斯卡一个人了，而施穆是可以信赖我的。我从凳子底下拽出铁皮鼓，镇定地点上一支烟，开始击鼓。 我毫无计划便击起鼓来，只想让人家明白我的鼓声的含义。我把通常的夜总会音乐的曲目全都丢在脑后。奥斯卡也不演奏爵士乐。我不喜欢人家把我看成一个发狂的打击乐手。虽说我是个老练的鼓手，然而我不是纯血统的爵士乐师。我喜爱爵士音乐一如我喜爱维也纳华尔兹。这两种音乐我都会演奏，可我不想演奏。施穆请我击鼓时，我不演奏我会的，而是演奏源自心里的。奥斯卡成功地让一个曾经永远是三岁的奥斯卡捏住鼓棒。我回头沿着老路敲去，让三岁孩子视角中的世界清晰地显现出来，首先控制住这个没有能力进入真正的宗教仪式中去的战后社交界。说得明白些，我带领他们走到波萨道夫斯基路，走进考尔阿姨的幼儿园，我已经让他们垂下下巴，手拉着手，脚尖朝里，等待着我，他们的捕鼠人。我于是离开鸡棚梯子，站到女士们先生们的排首。作为试验，我先给他们来了一段《烘烘烘，烘蛋糕》，他们像孩子似的兴高采烈，而我的成绩也已记录在案。我随即引起他们的巨大的恐惧，敲响了《黑厨娘，你在吗？ ".我从前有时害怕黑厨娘，现在我越来越怕她。我让她出场，身影巨大，黑如煤炭，可憎可怕，在洋葱地窖里暴跳如雷，我于是达到了老板施穆用洋葱达到的效果：女士们先生们，像孩子似的哭出了圆滚滚的泪水，害怕至极，颤抖着求我怜悯。我于是又敲鼓，借以安慰他们，帮他们穿上内衣、外衣，丝绸的、天鹅绒的：《绿绿绿，我的衣裳全都绿》，《红红红，我的衣裳全都红》，《蓝蓝蓝……》，《黄黄黄……》。我敲出了各种颜色和中间色调，直到我面前的社交人士又文雅地穿戴整齐，随后让幼儿园搬迁，领他们穿过洋葱地窖，仿佛这里是耶施肯山谷路，仿佛正在登上埃尔布斯山，绕着古滕贝格纪念碑走去，仿佛这里盛开着真正的雏菊，他们，女士们先生们，像孩子一样高兴地去采摘。我允许他们，所有在场的人，包括老板施穆，为在玩耍中度过的幼儿园的下午留下一件纪念品。当我们快到黑暗的魔鬼峡谷，打算去采山毛榉果实时，我在鼓上说：孩子们，你们现在可以去小便了。于是，他们满足了孩子的小小需要，尿了，所有的人，女士们和先生们，老板施穆，我的朋友克勒普和朔勒，甚至坐在远处的管盥洗间的女工，全都尿了，嘘嘘嘘地尿了，尿湿了裤子，一边蹲下来，听着。好一支儿童管弦乐队！他们演奏时，奥斯卡只是马马虎虎地敲敲边鼓。他们的乐声一止，我一阵急擂，过渡到无拘无束的快活气氛中去，奏出一段淘气的曲子： glass, glass, shot glass, No beer, but sugar, Mrs. Haller opened the window, 弹钢琴，叮咚当…… 我带领那些欢呼着、吃吃笑着、用孩子的笨嘴咿咿呀呀不停地说着的女士们先生们首先到了衣帽间。惊愕万状的大胡子大学生帮施穆的客人们穿上大衣。接着，我为女士们先生们敲了一支他们喜爱的小曲《谁愿见到勤快的洗衣妇》，送他们走上水泥台阶，从穿羊皮大衣的门房身边走过，到了街上。一九五○年春之夜，清新，没有星星，童话一般，好像是预先定做的。我让女士们先生们解散，可他们还在旧城像小孩子似的胡闹了好一阵子，忘了回家的路。末了，警察帮他们恢复了本来的年纪、体面与尊严以及对自己家电话号码的记忆。 我，奥斯卡，则留在洋葱地窖里，吃吃地笑，抚弄铁皮。施穆一直在那里鼓掌，叉开两腿，湿了裤裆，站在鸡棚梯子旁。看样子，在考尔阿姨的幼儿园里他感到很高兴，同成年人施穆在莱茵草地上打麻雀时一样高兴。