Chapter 6 3

When I first woke up, I forgot all about the dream, and I remembered it later.I slept for about an hour, amidst the music and noise, at a table in a tavern, something I always thought was impossible.The lovely girl stood in front of me with her hand on my shoulder. "Give me two or three marks," she said, "and I'll have something to eat over there." I handed her my wallet and she took it away and came back shortly after. Well, now I can sit with you for a while, and then I have to go, I have an appointment. " I was taken aback. "A date?" I asked eagerly.

"With a gentleman, little Harry. He invited me to the Odeon." "Oh, I thought you wouldn't leave me alone." "You should have invited me. Someone else got there first. You're saving money. Have you ever been to the Odeon? Only champagne after twelve. Soft chairs, black band, nice bar. " I haven't considered any of these. "Ah!" I begged, "Let me invite you! I thought it was a self-evident thing, didn't we become friends? Let me invite you, I'll do whatever you want Please go where, I beg your permission." "Of course it's very good of you to do this. But you see, you must keep your word. I have accepted the invitation of others, and I am leaving now. Don't sponsor me! Come, have another drink, there is still wine in the bottle. You Finish this glass of wine, go home and sleep well. Promise me."

"No, you know, I can't go home." 'Hey, you, or those things!Are you and Goethe not over yet? (At this moment I recall the dream of Goethe again.) If you really can't go home, then stay here, there are guest rooms.Shall I get you a room? " Satisfied with that, I asked her where I could see her again and where she lived.She didn't tell me.She said that if I searched a little, I could find her. "Can I be your host?" "Where?" "The time and place are up to you." "Okay. Dinner on Tuesday at the old Franz Scanner's. On the second floor. Goodbye!"

She offered her hand to shake, and I noticed that it matched her voice so beautifully, plumply, deftly and passionately.I kissed her hand and she smiled mockingly. When she turned to leave, she turned to me again and said: I have to say a few words to you because of Goethe.You see, the portrait of Goethe overwhelms you, and you have a fight with him, as I sometimes do with saints. " "Saint? Are you so devout?" "No, it's a pity I'm not religious, but I was religious once before, and I want to be religious again. I don't have time to be religious now."

"No time? Does piety need time?" "Oh yes. Piety takes time and even more: not bound by time, you have to be really religious and at the same time live in reality and take reality seriously: time, money, Odeon bars And everything. It's impossible." "I see. But what about the saint?" "Listen, it's like this. There are a few saints I like very much, Stephen, St. Franz, and a few others. Sometimes I see their pictures, and the picture of the Redeemer, and they are all deceitful crooked, stupid faces. Like Lugod you can't stand, I can't stand these pictures of saints. When I see such a beautiful and silly Jesus Christ or St. Franz, and see others think that these I felt it when the painting was beautiful and instructive. The real Jesus Christ was insulted. I thought, ah, if such a tacky picture of him would satisfy people, the life he was living, the life he was suffering What is the meaning of suffering? However, I know that the image of Jesus Christ and St. Franz in my mind is just a portrait, which is far from their real image. The statue of Jesus also looks stupid and lacks a lot, just like I feel about those vulgar reproductions that hate me. I tell you this, not that you are right to be mad at Goethe, no. You are not like that. No. I say this just to show that I understand you. You academics and artists have all kinds of unusual things in your head, but you are human just like everyone else, and the rest of us have dreams in our heads. and joking. I have found, learned sir, that when you told me your story about Goethe, you were a little embarrassed. You used a lot of brains to find a way to make an ordinary girl understand your ideal. But, I Now to show you that you don't really have to think that hard. I can understand. Well, that's it! You should go to bed!"

She left, and an old servant led me up to the third floor before asking me if I had any luggage, and when he heard I had no luggage, he told me to pay in advance what he called "sleeping money."Then he led me down an old stairwell and into a small house, and he left me.There was a flimsy plank bed, short and hard, and on the wall hung a sword, a colored portrait of Garibaldo, and a wreath of yellowing wreaths from a society's festivities.I paid way too much for just one pajamas, but at least there was water and a towel in the room.After I washed my face, I lay down on the bed with all my clothes on, and with the light on, I had time to think.Goethe's business was now over.I saw him in my dream, great!And this wonderful girl, if only I knew her name!She is a person who suddenly broke into my life, a real person, she broke the dull glass cover that isolated me from the world, and stretched out a hand to me, a kind, beautiful, warm Suddenly something happened to me again in my hand, and I recalled it with pleasure, anxiety, or nervousness.Suddenly, a door opened and life came towards me across the threshold.Maybe I'll be able to live again, and be a human being again.My soul, which had been frozen and numb, began to breathe again, to puff its feeble tiny wings.Goethe came to me once.A girl who told me to eat, drink, and sleep, was very friendly to me, laughed at me, and called me a child.She—the wonderful girlfriend—told me about saints, and she showed me that even though I was eccentric, I wasn't alone, I wasn't sickly weird, I wasn't unintelligible, I still had Bosom friend, someone understands me.Will I still see her?Yes, definitely meet her, she is believable. "Keep your word."

Thinking about it, I fell asleep and slept for four or five hours.After ten o'clock, I woke up, my clothes were wrinkled, I was exhausted, and I was still thinking about some ugly things from yesterday, but on the other hand, I felt very clear, full of hope, and had many beautiful thoughts.When I returned home, I didn't feel any fear at all, it was completely different from yesterday. On the stairs, above the araucaria, I met "Auntie," my landlady, whom I seldom saw, but who was amiable and dear to me.I was a little ashamed to meet her; disheveled, sleepy, disheveled, and unshaven.I said hello to her and wanted to walk over.In the past, I was lonely and quiet in my thoughts, and I didn't want others to control me. She always respected my request, but today the curtain between me and the people around me seems to be torn, and the fence between us seems to collapse. up.She laughed and stood still.

"You walked all night, Mr. Harrell, and you didn't go to bed at all last night. You must be very tired." "Yes," I replied, and I had to laugh too. "Last night I watched some Nao, I didn't want to disturb the family's way of life, so I stayed in the hotel for one night.I have great respect for the quietness and dignity of the house, and sometimes I have a feeling of being out of place in the house. " "Don't make fun of me, Mr. Harrell!" "Oh, I'm just laughing at myself." "That's exactly what you shouldn't do. You shouldn't feel out of place in my house. You're supposed to live casually and comfortably. I've had some very respectable lodgers here, and they've been eminent ambassadors, But you are quieter than any of them, and you seldom disturb us. Now...would you like a cup of tea?"

I have no objection.I followed her into the living room, where there were beautiful portraits of ancestors and furniture left by them.The landlady poured me tea, and we chatted casually for a while, the kind lady didn't question me, I told her some of my experiences, my thoughts, and she listened to me with both attention and half-seriousness, wise lady Such a mixed expression is shown when listening to the strange stories of men.We also talked about her nephew, and she took me into a nearby room and showed me her nephew's latest amateur product—a radio.Hard-working young man sits here at night, fiddling with installing such a machine, completely immersed in the idea of ​​​​"wireless", worshiping devoutly before the god of technology, which was finally discovered after thousands of years and is very fragmented describes what every thinker has long known, and has used with great skill.We talked about this because my aunt was a little religious, and she didn't hate talking about religion.I said to her that the idea of ​​omnipresence and omnipotence of force and action, the ancient Indians must have known that technology only brought a fraction of this fact into public consciousness by Imperfect receiver and transmitter combination.The essence of that ancient knowledge, namely the unreality of time, has not been noticed by technology so far, but it will naturally be "discovered" in the end and mastered by ingenious engineers.Perhaps it will soon be discovered that not only are events and images of the present, present happening, constantly flowing around us, just as one hears music played in Paris and Berlin in Frankfurt or Zurich, but that everything that has already happened is Also recorded, so well preserved, that perhaps one day, with or without wires, with or without noise, we will hear the voices of King Solomon and Walter von der Fogweed.People will find that all this, just like today's newly developed radio, can only lead people to flee from themselves and their own goals, and make people surrounded by an increasingly dense net of entertainment and exhausting busyness.However, when I talked about these things that I am very familiar with, I did not use the usual indignant and mocking tone, targeting the times and technology, but talked about these things in a joking and game-like tone, and "aunt" smiled and listened , We sat like this for about an hour, drinking tea and chatting.very satisfied.

I managed to get by when I invited the beautiful and queer girl at the Black Eagle to dinner on Tuesday night.When Tuesday finally came, I realized just how frighteningly important my relationship with this unknown girl had become to me.I only think of her alone, and pin all my hopes on her. Even if I don't have the slightest love for her, I am willing to go through fire and water for her and kneel at her feet.I have only to imagine that she will miss her appointment or forget my invitation, and then I can see clearly what I will be in; All around me would be an eerie silence, a deathly silence, and there would be only one way out of this noiseless hell: the razor.To me, the razor hasn't gotten any cuter these days, and it hasn't lost one iota of its intimidating power.That's the ugly stuff: I'm terrified of getting a knife in my neck*, I'm terrified of death, and I fight death with furious, tenacious strength, as if I'm the healthiest person in the world, and I'm living in heaven.I am very aware of my situation, and I also realize that it is the unbearable contradiction between the inability to live and the inability to die that makes me feel that this unknown woman, the petite woman in the Black Eagle Tavern And beautiful dancers are so important.She is a small window, a small hole of light, in the cave of my dark "fear."She is the savior, the way to freedom.Surely she will teach me to live or to die, surely she will touch my petrified heart softly with her strong and beautiful hand, so that it will bloom at the touch of life, or crumble to ashes.Where she got this power, why she had it, what mysterious reason she meant so deeply to me, I can't imagine, and I don't care; I don't need to know.Now I don't want to know at all, I don't want to know at all, I know too much, I am so miserable, for me, the most unbearable and piercing pain and humiliation is here, just because I see me so clearly My own situation, so clearly aware of my situation.I saw this guy, I saw the beast Steppenwolf like a fly trapped in a spider's web, I saw how it was going to the decisive battle of fate, how it was tightly entangled in the spider's web and was powerless to resist, how the spider was eyeing and ready to pounce on it Biting it, how another hand appeared nearby to rescue it.With regard to the inner connection and cause of my pain, my mental illness, my obsession, my neurosis, I can naturally say that it is because I am not smart enough or rational, and the interplay of all this is clear at a glance.However, what I need; what I desperately crave is not knowledge and understanding, but experiences, decisions, shocks and leaps.

During those days of waiting for a date, I never doubted that my girlfriend would break the promise, but I was still very excited and nervous on the last day; never in my life I looked forward to the night with such impatience. coming.On the one hand, this kind of tension and irritability is almost unbearable for me, but on the other hand, it gives people a very wonderful feeling of comfort: running back and forth full of anxiety, worry and enthusiastic anticipation for a whole day, imagining how we will meet at night, how we will be together. Talking, what happened, shaving for the date, getting dressed (very carefully, new shirt, new tie, new shoelaces), for a waking man like me, for me It was unimaginably beautiful and fresh for a man who had been disheartened and insensitive for so long.Whoever this clever and mysterious little girl was, and in whatever way she had this relationship with me, I didn't think it mattered; what mattered was that she came, and a miracle happened, and I found a companion again, yes Life has sprouted a new interest again!The important thing is that things continue to go on like this, and I let the gravity pull me there and follow this star. I saw her again and it was an unforgettable moment!I was sitting at a small table in that old, cozy restaurant, which I had telephoned to book in advance, which was unnecessary; Looked at the menu.I waited for her for a while, but I felt sure that she would come, and I was no longer excited.She came at last, stopped in front of the coat locker, and greeted me with a half-inspecting glance from her pale gray eyes that I hadn't come to focus on.I watched in disbelief how Tang Guan would treat her.Thank God he was polite, neither too close nor too distant.They had known each other for a long time, and she called him Emile. I gave her orchids, she was very happy and smiled. "It's very kind of you, Harry. You want to give me a present, don't you, and you don't know what to give, you don't quite know; how valuable a gift you can give me, and whether I'll be insulted, so You just bought orchids, which are only flowers, but they are very expensive. Thank you. But I will tell you right away, I don't want to accept your gift. I live by men, but I don't want to live by you. Oh, you totally You've changed, I can't even recognize you! You were so ugly not long ago, as if you had just been untied from the hanging rope, and now you look like a human again. By the way, did you carry out my orders?" "What order?" "So forgetful? I mean, can you arc step now? You told me that your greatest desire is to have my orders, and that you love nothing more than to be told by me. Do you remember?" ?” "Oh. Yes, and it will always be the case! I'm telling the truth!" "And yet you haven't learned to dance?" - Can this be learned so quickly?Does it only take a few days? " "Of course. You can learn the arc step in an hour, and the Boston waltz in two days. The tango takes a little longer, of course, but you don't need to learn the tango." "But now I want to know your name first!" She looked at me in silence for a while. "You might guess it. I'd be so glad if you could. Take a good look at me! Don't you notice that sometimes I have a boyish face? Like now?" Yes, I am now carefully watching her face, her words are correct, it is a boy's face.I watched it for a minute, and the face began to speak to me, reminding me of my childhood, of my friend at that time, his name was Hermann.For a moment she seemed to be Hermann entirely. "If you're a boy," I said in surprise, "your name must be Hermann." "Who knows, maybe I'm Herman, I'm just a man in disguise," she said jokingly. "Your name is Hermine?" I guessed it right, and she nodded with a smile on her face, very happy.Soup was served, and we drank it, and she became as happy as a child.The most wonderful and peculiar thing about her that I like and fascinates me is that she can be very serious for a while, and then become very happy and happy for a while, which makes people feel funny; , but she herself is not out of shape at all, she behaves like a talented child.Now she's happy for a while, joking with me with a foxtrot, even touching me with her foot, and complimenting the meal.She noticed that I put a lot of effort into how I dressed, but continued to criticize my appearance. I asked her, "What did you do to suddenly look like a boy, so that I could guess your name?" "Oh, the secret here is yourself. Learned sir, why don't you understand? I make you like me and make me important to you because I'm like a mirror to you. There's something about me that gives you If you answer, I can understand you. Originally, all people should be a mirror to each other, able to answer each other's questions and adapt to each other. However, a weird person like you is too weird, easily possessed, so that in the eyes of others Can't see anything, can't see anything related to them. Such a strange person suddenly finds a face, this face is really looking at him, and he feels in this face some kind of answer and similar Things, of course he is very happy at this time!" "Hermine, you know nothing," I exclaimed in amazement. "It is just as you say it is. But you and I are quite different! You are the opposite of me; you have everything I lack." "It's how you feel," she said curtly, "and that's fine." Now, on her face—in fact, I think this face is a magic mirror—suddenly across a room of serious dark clouds, there is a serious and sad expression on her face, like the beadless and empty eyes in a mask. unpredictable.Reluctantly, she slowly said word by word: "Don't you forget what I said! You once said that I should command you, and that it was a pleasure for you to obey all my commands. Don't forget that! You know, little Harry, that you I feel the same way I feel about you, you feel like my face is answering to you that there is something about me that caters to your heart and makes you trust. I feel the same way about you. Last time I was at the Black Eagle Tavern Seeing you come in so tired and absent-minded. Almost out of this world—I knew right away that this man would listen to me. He longed for my orders! That's exactly what I was going to do, so I caught up with you, and we became friends." She spoke so seriously and was under such great pressure that I couldn't fully follow her train of thought. I tried to comfort her and divert the topic.But she just raised her eyebrows, stopped my words, looked at me aggressively, and continued in a cold tone: "You must keep your word, child, I said you must keep your word, or you will regret it. You Will have many orders from me to obey, well-intentioned orders, pleasant orders, which you will find it a pleasure to obey. And you will carry out my last order at the end, Harry." "I will," I said, a little out of business, "what was the last order you gave me? Actually I had a hunch what the last order would be, God knows why. She trembled as if struck by a blast of frost.After a while, I slowly woke up from my contemplation.Her eyes are fixed on me.Her face suddenly became more gloomy. "If I were wise, I'd better not tell you this. But I don't want to be wise this time, Harry. This time, I want to do something totally unwise. Listen carefully! You'll hear it and forget it." , you'll laugh at it, you'll cry at it. Watch out, little one. I'm going to bet you life and death, little brother, and show my cards openly before you before I've even started playing." How beautiful, how different her face was when she spoke these words!Her eyes were calm and bright, with a prescient sadness in them, eyes that seemed to have endured and approved of all imaginable suffering.It was difficult for the mouth to speak, as if it had some kind of handicap, like a person who is about to speak when he is frozen by severe cold; but between the two lips, in the two corners of the mouth, in the flexible movement of the tip of the tongue, which is rarely exposed, bleed out. Sweet seductive sensuality, an eager appetite for pleasure.A short knot of black hair fell on the peaceful smooth forehead, and from there, from the forehead where the hair fell, the boyish porcelain hair rolled down from time to time like waves with the breath of life, And reveal a kind of hermaphrodite-like efforts.Listening to her talk, I was terrified, and at the same time, as if I had been anesthetized, I was in a trance and intoxicated. "You like me," she went on, "for the reasons I have already told you; I broke through your solitude, stopped you just as you were about to pass through the gates of hell, and brought you to sobriety. But I I want more from you than that. I want you to love me. No, don't interrupt, let me go! You like me, I feel it, you thank me , but you don't love me. I make you love me, that's my business; I make men love me, that's what I do for a living. But mind you, I don't do it because I think you So charming and lovely. I don't love you, Harry, any more than you love me. But I need you as much as you need me. You need me now, right now, because you're desperate and need a punch One palm, push you into the water, make you alive again. You need me, so that you can learn to dance, learn to laugh, and learn to live. I need you, not for today, but for the future, and for the important and beautiful Purpose. When you fall in love with me, I will give you my last order, and you will obey, which is good for you and me." She lifted a branch of purple-brown orchid with green veins in the water glass, lowered her head and stared at the orchid for a while. "It won't be easy for you to carry out this order, but you will do it. You will fulfill my last order, and you will kill me. That's the way it is. You don't ask me any more." She stopped talking, still staring at the orchid, the pain and tension on her face disappeared, and her muscles relaxed, like blooming flower buds, gradually stretching.Suddenly, a charming smile appeared on her lips, but her eyes were still dazed.After a while, she shook her boyish head, took a sip of water, realized that we were sitting at the dinner table, and happily ate and drank. I heard every word of her dreadful speech, and guessed her last order before she even uttered it, so when I heard "You will kill me," Didn't feel scared.Everything she said sounded convincing to me, as it should be, and I accepted it without protest; but on the other hand, despite the seriousness with which she said it, I felt Fully achievable, not 100% serious, a part of my soul absorbed her words and believed them; another part of my soul nodded comfortingly and learned that this so wise, healthy and stable Hercules Ermina also has her fantasies and psoas state.Before she could utter the last word, the whole scene was veiled with unfulfillment and inefficiency. In any case, I don't leap back into the world of the possible and the real with the effortless tightrope-walking acrobat Hermione does. "You said I would kill you and asked me, as if she was still dreaming, but she laughed and sliced ​​the ground duck with great interest. "Of course," she nodded casually, "that's enough, let's not talk about it, it's meal time. Harry, please get me some more green lettuce! You can't eat? I think, all the things that other people are born with you You have to learn it all. You have to learn the joy of eating. You see, boy, it's a duck's leg, and it's such a joy to pick that beautiful shiny leg off the bone, when all alone When you do it, you salivate, you feel nervous and happy in the bottom of your heart, like a lover when he helps his girl undress for the first time. Do you understand? Don’t understand? You are stupid. Watch out, I'll give you a piece of duck leg fat, and you'll see. That's it, open your mouth!--Oh, what a monster you are! God's burning, and now he's squinting at people to see if they see how he's doing it from me Eat a bite of meat off your fork! Don't worry, you're fine and I won't disgrace you. You're a poor wretch if you need someone else's permission to enjoy yourself." The scene just now has become more and more bewildering, less and less believable, with those eyes staring at you with such solemnity and horror a few minutes ago.Oh, it is in this that Hermine is like life itself: always fleeting, always unpredictable.Now she ate, taking duck legs and salads, cakes and liqueurs seriously, objects of joy and judgment, subjects of conversation and fantasy.After eating a plate, a new chapter begins.This woman who sees me through me, who seems to know life better than all the wise men, is now acting like a child, playing the game with such familiarity that it makes me cringe.Whether it is the highest intelligence or the simplest naivety, who can enjoy the momentary pleasure to the fullest, who must always live in the present, without looking forward and backward, who knows how to appraise every little flower on the roadside with such kindness and prudence, every little flower. Small, fuxi's momentary value, then life can't damage him one iota.Is such a happy child, with such a good appetite, tasting all kinds of food with relish, a dreamer or hysterical patient who is looking forward to death, or a sober and calculating person who consciously and calmly wants to let the I love her, become her slave?This is impossible.No, she's just completely immersed in the moment.So she can laugh heartily and feel downhearted from the bottom of her heart, and never rein in her emotions and let them flow. I only saw Hermine for the second time today, and she knows everything about me, and I find it impossible to keep any secrets from her.Maybe she doesn't fully understand my spiritual life, maybe doesn't understand my relationship to music, to Goethe, to Novalis or Baudelaire - but that's also very doubtful, maybe she can do it without much effort. understand these.What did it matter if she didn't understand?What is left of my "spiritual life"?Hasn't all this been smashed to pieces and lost its meaning?I have no doubt, however, that she would understand my other problems and desires, which were entirely my own.I'll be talking to her about me in a while, about Steppenwolf, about that paper.Before, all this was just my own business, and I never said a word to others.Something impelled me to begin telling at once. "Hermina," I said, "some strange things have happened to me lately. A stranger gave me a little book, something like a pamphlet from a fair, in which it says It's all my stories, and everything about me is written exactly. Do you think it's strange?" "What's the name of this booklet?" she asked casually. "The title of the book is On Steppenwolf." "Oh, Steppenwolf is great! Is that you? Are you the Steppenwolf?" "Yes, I'm a Steppenwolf. I'm such a Steppenwolf, half man, half wolf, maybe it's just my fantasy." She didn't answer.He looked into my eyes and my hands inquiringly.After a while the former deep seriousness and dark passion returned to her eyes and face.I believe I have guessed her thoughts at this time: am I wolfish enough to carry out her "last order"? "Of course it's just your fantasy," she said, beginning to lighten up again. "Or poetic, if you will. But there's something to it. You're not a prodigal today, but that day, when you walked into the restaurant. You seemed to have fallen off the moon. There was something animal about you." , I like your animal nature." She suddenly thought of something, paused for a while, and then said in surprise: "This is really ugly, what a 'beast', 'beast'! You shouldn't talk about animals like this. Animals are often scary, but they are more sincere than people." "What do you mean by sincerity? What do you mean?" "Look carefully at the animals, a wolf, a dog, a bird, or any giant animal in the zoo, such as a puma or a giraffe! You will definitely see that they are all so natural, and no animal Embarrassed, they don't know what to do. They don't want to flatter you, attract you. They don't act. They show their true colors, like plants, trees, rocks, sun, moon and stars. Do you understand?" I know. "Animals are mostly sad," she continued. "When a man is sad not because of a toothache or lost money, but because he suddenly feels for one hour what it is all about, what his whole life is about, then he is truly sad, this is He was kind of like an animal when I saw him—sad like that, but more genuine and beautiful than ever. That's how it is, when I first saw you, Steppenwolf, that's how you were." So, Hermine, what do you think of the book about me? " "Oh, you know, I don't like to think too much. We'll talk about it next time. You can show me the book. No, wait a minute. You can give it to me when I'm interested in reading something again." A book you wrote yourself." She asked me to bring her coffee, and she appeared to be in a trance and absent-minded for a while, and then she suddenly brightened up, as if she was thinking hard and got some results. "Ha," she exclaimed happily, "I remember now." "What do you remember?" "The foxtrot thing, I've been thinking about it all these hours. Now, tell me, do you have a room where we can dance for an hour now and then? It doesn't matter if it's small, as long as there's no one living downstairs, Otherwise we'd have a creaking floor above and he'd come up and fight. That's good, good! That way you can learn to dance at home." "Yes," I said timidly, "it is better to learn at home. But I think there must be music." "Of course you need music. Listen, you can make some music. The most money you can spend is the tuition fee for a teacher to teach you how to dance. You save the tuition fee, and I will be a teacher myself. Then we have music whenever we dance, The gramophone remains with us." "phonograph." "Yeah. You buy a little machine like this, and some dance records..." "That's great," I cried, "you really taught me to dance, and I'll give you the gramophone as a reward. Agree?" I said this very frankly, but it was not from my heart.It's hard for me to imagine how I could have a machine in my book-filled studio that I don't like at all, and I have a lot of different opinions about dancing.我曾想过，我偶尔也可以试着跳一跳，虽然我坚信，我已经太老了，骨头也硬了，学不会了。而现在，一步接一步，事情来得太快太猛烈了，我是个年老、爱挑剔的音乐行家，我不喜欢留声机、爵士乐，不喜欢现代舞曲，我感到我身上的这一切在反抗。现在，要在我的房间里，在诺瓦利斯和让·保罗旁边，在我的思想斗室和避风港里响起美国流行舞曲，要我随着乐曲跳舞，这可是太过分了，人们不能这样要求我。可是，要求我这样做的不是一个普通的“人”，而是赫尔米娜，她有权命令我。我服从她。我当然服从。 第二天下午，我们在一家咖啡馆会面。我去的时候，赫尔米娜已经坐在那里喝着茶，微笑着让我看一张报纸，她在那张报上发现了我的名字。那是我家乡出的一张反动的煽动性报纸，经常发表诽谤性文章攻击我。在战争期间，我是反战的，战后我曾著文，提醒人们要冷静，忍耐，要有人性，要进行自我批评，我反对日益猖獗起来的国家主义的煽动。现在，有人又在报上攻击我了，文章写得很蹩脚，一半是编辑自己写的，一半是从接近他的观点的报章杂志上的许多类似文章中抄袭拼凑来的。众所周知，没有人比这些陈旧思想的卫道士写的更坏了，没有人会写得这样卑鄙龌龊，会这样粗制滥造。赫尔米娜读了文章，从中得知，哈里·哈勒尔是害人虫，是个不爱祖国的家伙，只经这种人和这种思想被容忍，青年人被教育成具有伤感的人道主义思想，而不想向不共戴天的死敌报仇作战，那么，这对祖国当然只是十分糟糕的事情。 “这是你吧？”赫尔米娜指着报纸上我的名字问我。“你树敌还不少呢，哈里。你恼火吗？” 我把这篇文章看了几行，全是些老花招。这些谩骂的话没有一句不是陈词滥调，这些年里听得我耳朵部长了老茧。 “不，”我说，“我不恼火，我早就习惯了。我几次表示过我的看法。我认为，每个国家，甚至每个人，在政治'责任问题'上都不应该浑浑噩噩地沉醉在编造的谎言中，他们都必须在自己身上检查一下，他们犯了什么错误、延误了什么时机、保留着哪些陈规陋习，从而也对战争的爆发和世界上的其他不幸事件负有一定责任。这也许是能避免下一次战争的唯一道路。正是这一点，他们不能宽恕我，因为他们自己一皇帝、将军、大企业家、政治家、报纸——当然是完全无辜的，他们对自己毫无可以指责之处，他们谁也没有一丝一是责任！人们可以说，除了一千多万被打死的人躺在地下以外，世界上不是一切邻很好吗。赫尔米娜，你看，这种诽谤文章虽说不会让我生气恼火，有时却也使我伤心。我的同胞中有三分之二的人阅读这类报纸，每天早晨和每天晚上听到的都是这种调子，他们每天被灌输，被提醒，被煽动，被搅得不满和发火，这一切的目的和结局就是爆发另一场战争，而下一场战争也许比上一次战争更可怕。这一切非常清楚简单，任何人都能理解，只要思考一个小时就能得到同样的结论。可是，谁也不愿这样做，谁也不想避免下一次战争，谁也不想为自己和子女、后代避免一场死人的大厮杀。思考一个小时，检查一下自己，扪心自问，自己在多大程度上参与了世界上的坏事，承担多少责任，你看，这就没有人愿意做！于是一切都按老皇历进行，每天都有成千上万的人非常热心地准备着下一次战争。我明白了这一点以后，我的身心就麻痹了，绝望了。对我来说，已经没有祖国，没有理想了，这一切都只是那些准备下一场屠杀的先生的装饰品。按照人道主义原则去思考，把它说出来，写出来，这已经没有用了，头脑中想出一些好的想法已经无济干事——这样做的只有两三个人，而每天都有成千家报纸、杂志，成千次讲演，公开或秘密的会议在宣扬完全相反的东西，并且达到了目的。” 赫尔米娜很关切地听了我的议论。 “是啊，”她开口说道，“你说得不错。自然还会有战争，这一点用不着读报就知道。人们当然可以为此感到伤心，可伤心也没有用。这就像一个人无论怎样反对，怎样努力都不免一死一样。跟死亡作斗争，亲爱的哈里，始终是一件美好的、崇高的、奇妙的、可尊敬的事情，反对战争的斗争也是这样。但是，这种斗争向来都只不过是毫无希望的堂吉柯德式的滑稽剧罢了。” “这也许是真的，”我激烈地大声喊道，'它是，反正我们很快就要死，所以一切都无所谓了，这一类所谓真理只能使整个生活平庸愚蠢。难道我们就该把一切都扔掉，放弃一切精神、一切追求、一切人道的东西，让虚荣心和金钱继续发号施令，喝着啤酒，坐等下一次总动员？ " 这时，赫尔米娜奇特地看着我，这目光一方面充满快乐、讥讽、戏德、谅解和友谊，另一方面又非常庄重、深邃、严肃，并充满智慧。 “你不用这样，”她非常慈爱地说。“即使你知道，你的斗争不会成功，那你的生活并不会因此就变得平庸和愚蠢。反过来，哈里，如果你在为某种美好的事物和某种理想斗争，而认为你一定要达到目的，这样倒是要平庸得多。难道理想都能达到吗？难道我们人活着就是为了消除死亡？不，我们活着，正是为了惧怕死亡，然后又重新爱它，正是由于它的缘故，有时这一点点生活在某一小时会显得如此美妙。你是个孩子，哈里。现在听我话，跟我来，今天我们有许多事要做。今天我不想再谈战争和报纸的事了。你呢？” 噢，不，我也准备好了。 我们一起走进一家乐器店，这是我们第一次在城里一起走路。我们挑选各种留声机，开了又关，关了又开，试听唱片。当我们选到一架价廉物美的留声机时，我想马上把它买下，赫尔米娜却不愿意急于求成、她把我拦住了，我只好跟她一起到第二家乐器店去。在那里我们也试了各种系列、各种大小、各种价格的留声机，这时她才同意回到第一家店，买我选中的那一架。 “你看，”我说，“这件事我们本来可以做得更简单些的。” “你这样看？真是那样的话，明大我们也许会看到一架同样的留声机摆在身一个橱窗里，却便宜了二十瑞士法郎。况且，买东西也有乐趣，而使人快乐的事就该好好品味。你还得学很多东西。” 我们让一位伙计把留声机送到我的住宅。 赫尔米娜仔细观看我的房间，很赞许屋里的火炉和沙发床，试了试椅子，拿起一本书，在我情人的照片前站了许久。我们把留声机放在五斗柜上的书籍中间，然后开始上课。她打开留声机，放一首狐步舞曲，给我示范做了几个动作，拉起我的手，开始带我跳舞。我顺从地跳起来，却撞到了椅子上；我听着她的命令，却听不懂地的意思，一脚踩到她的脚上。我跳得既笨拙又热心。跳完第二个舞，她一下子躺倒在沙发上，像孩子似地笑起来。 “我的上帝，你简直跟木头一样僵硬！你只需像散步那样，很自然地往前走就行！根本不必紧张！我想，你一定跳得很热了吧？来，我们休息五分钟！你看，会跳舞的人，跳舞就像思想一样简单，学起来要容易得多。你现在看到下而这一点就不会那样不耐烦了：人们不愿养成思考的习惯，情愿把哈里·哈勒尔称为祖国的叛徒，平心静气地让下一次战争来临。” 一个小时后她走了。临走时她说，下一次肯定要好一些。我想的却跟她不同，自己那么笨，那么不灵活，真是大失所望。我觉得，这一个小时我什么也没有学到，我不相信下次会好一些。不，跳舞需要的能力正是我完全缺乏的：快乐、热情、、轻率而无邪。好了，这一点我早就想到了。 可是你瞧，下一次真的好了一些，而且，始给我带来某种乐趣。上课结束时，赫尔米娜说，我现在已学会狐步舞了。但当她因而得出结论，说明天我得跟他到饭店跳舞时，我大吃一惊，拼命反对。她冷冷地提醒我，我曾发誓服从她，明天一起到巴朗斯旅馆喝茶。 当天晚上我坐在家里，我想读书却读不进去。一想到明天我就害怕；我这样一个上了年纪、胆小敏感的怪人，要去光顾一家无聊的、摩登的、奏爵士乐的舞厅，而且什么舞也不会就要在陌生人的众目股膝下跳舞出丑，这个想法太可怕了。当我独自一人在安静的房间里打开留声机，只穿着袜子在复习我的狐步舞时，我暗自承认，觉得自己好笑，并为自己感到羞愧。 第二天，在巴朗斯旅馆里，一个小乐队在演奏音乐，茶和威士忌应有尽有。我企图贿赂赫尔米娜，给她糕点，想各种办法请她喝一瓶好酒，但她却依然铁面无私。 “你今天到这里不是来玩儿的。今天是上舞蹈课。” 我只好跟她跳舞，跳了两三次，其间她介绍我认识了萨克斯管演奏师，这是一位西班牙或南美洲血统的年轻人，黑黑的，长得蛮漂亮。据她说，他会演奏所有乐器，会讲世界〔所有的语言）这位先生似乎跟赫尔米娜很熟，很友好，他面前放着两根大小不同的萨克斯管，换着吹，他那炯炯有神的黑眼睛快活地逐个儿打量着跳舞的人。我自己也感到很惊奇，不知为什么，我对这位无辜的、漂亮的音乐家产生了一种嫉妒之心，这倒不是吃醋，因为我和赫尔米娜之间谈不上爱情，而是精神上对友谊的嫉妒，因为在我看来，他不配赫尔米娜对他表现出来的兴趣和引人注意的神色所嘉许。我奇怪地想：今天我要结交这样的朋友，真可笑。 接着，有人请赫尔米娜跳舞，我一个人坐在桌旁喝茶，听着音乐，以前这类音乐我是听不进去的。天哪，我想，这个地方戏觉得那样陌生，那样讨厌，迄今为止，我竭力避免到这里来，我非常蔑视这个游子好闲的人的世界，这是个摆着大理石桌子、奏着爵士音乐的平庸呆板的世界，是妓女的世界，旅行客商的世界！现在，她却要把我引进这种世界，要我在这里生根落脚，熟悉它！我忧郁地喝着茶，凝视着穿戴并不大雅致的舞者。两个漂亮的姑娘吸引了我的目光，她们俩舞都跳得很好，我怀着赞赏和羡慕的心情看着她们跳舞，她们跳得多么灵巧自如、多么优美快乐！ 这时，赫尔米娜又回来了，对我很不满。她责备我，说我到这里来就不该板着脸，一动不动地坐在桌子旁喝茶，我应该拿出勇气去跳舞。怎么，我一个人不认识？这完全不必要。难道这里就没有我喜欢的姑娘？ 我指给她看两个姑娘中最漂亮的那一位，她正好就站在我们附近。她穿着天鹅绒短裙，棕色的头发剪得短短的，胳膊细皮嫩肉的很丰满，瞧她多么迷人可爱。赫尔米娜一定要我马上走过去请她跳舞。我拼命反对。 “这我可不能！”我很沮丧地说。“如果我是个英俊的年轻小伙子，那倒还行！我这样一个笨拙的老东西，连舞也不会跳，那不让她笑掉大牙。” 赫尔米娜很瞧不起地看着我。 “我是否会取笑你，你当然是无所谓步！你真是个胆小鬼！谁去接近姑娘，都要冒被取笑的危险，这就是冒险的赌注。我说哈里，去冒冒这个风险，最坏也不过就是让她取笑取笑——否则我就不相信你是听话的。” 她一点不通融。乐队又奏起音乐，我忐忑不安地站起来，向那位漂亮的姑娘走过去。 她一双大眼睛水灵灵的，好奇地看着我，见我过去便说道：“我本来已有舞伴。不过，看来他还要在那边的酒吧里呆一会儿。好，来吧” 我伸出手搂住她的腰，跳了头几步。我很惊讶，她并没有把我打发走；不过，她很快注意到，我不怎么会跳，于是她带我跳。她跳得好极了，连我也被感染了。这期间，我忘了我是遵命跳舞的，也忘记了跳舞的种种规则；我只是那样轻飘飘地跟着跳，我搂着舞伴那纤细的腰肢，接触到她那快速旋转的、灵活自如的腿，看着她那年轻的、容光焕发的脸，我向她承认，今天是我生平第一次跳舞。她嫣然一笑，没有说什么话，然而她用轻柔优美的动作使我们的身体靠得越来越近，以此鼓励我，回答我那兴奋的目光和恭维她的话语。我用右手紧紧搂住她的腰，欢愉而热切地随着她的腿、她的胳膊、她的肩膀的动作跳着，我很惊讶，我一次也没有踩到她的脚。音乐结束了，我们两人停在舞场上使劲鼓掌，乐声再起，我又一次热心地、爱恋地、全神贯注地参加那仪式。 想不到舞曲很快就结束了，穿天鹅绒衣服的美丽女郎走了。Sudden.赫尔米娜站到了我的旁边，她刚才看我们跳舞来着。 “你看见了吧？”她赞许地笑道。“你发现了吧，女人的腿并不是桌子腿。嗨，好极了狐步舞你现在会了，谢天谢地，明天我们就可以学波士顿华尔兹舞了，再过三个星期就可以到格罗布斯大厅参加化装舞会了。” 舞会休息时我们在桌旁落了座，那位萨克斯管演奏师，又英俊又年轻的帕勃罗先生也过来了，他向我们点点头，在赫尔米娜身旁坐下。看来，他是她的好朋友。可是我——我承认——初次认识他时一点不喜欢他。他长得很漂亮，体型和外相都很美，这一点无可否认，可是在他身上我没有发现别的优点。至于他会多种语言这一点，他也没有为难自己，他根本不说什么话，要说也是“请，谢谢，是，当然，哈罗”以及诸如此类的几个字，这几个字他当然可以用好几种语言表达。不，这位帕勃罗先生不说话，而且．他似乎也想得不多，这位漂亮的先生。他的营生就是在爵士乐队里吹奏萨克斯管，看来，他全身心都扑在这个职业上，简直是入了迷。有时，在演奏时他会突然鼓起掌来，他也采取别的方式抒发他的热情，有时会从他的嘴里突然爆出唱歌似的几个字来，如“噢噢噢噢，哈哈，哈罗！”除此以外，很明显，世界上的其他事情他一概不会，他只是长得漂亮，让女人喜欢，他穿领子最时髦的衣服，结个时髦的领结，手指上戴满戒指。他此时的休息娱乐不过是：跟我们坐在一起，对我们微笑，看着手表，卷卷纸烟，卷纸烟他倒是非常灵巧。他那一双移民后裔的黑眼睛很好看，他的头发黑黑的，但这一切都掩盖不住他的浪漫气质、他的问题和想法。从近处看，这位漂亮非凡的人是个快乐的、有些娇惯的青年，举止端庄，很有礼貌，如此而已。我跟他谈论他的乐器，谈论爵士音乐，他看到，他现在是跟一位音乐的老爱好者、老行家谈话。可是他却不予理睬，我出了对他的礼貌，或者其实是对赫尔米娜的礼貌，讲了一通话，从音乐理论上为爵士音乐辩护，他却无可无不可他笑笑，根本不接我的话茬，也许他根本不知道，除了爵士乐还有过其他音乐。他人很好，很规矩，听话，他那双大眼睛笑得很甜；可是。他与我之间似乎没有共同的语言——重要和神圣的东西，对我则不然，我们来自地球上两个完全相反的大陆。我们的语势没有一个字是共同的人可是后来赫尔米娜跟我讲了一些奇特的故事。她说，那次谈话后，他曾对她说，她应该关心我这个人，我是那样的不幸。当她问他，他是怎么得出这个结论的，他说：可怜的人，真可怜。看他那双眼睛！他不会笑。 " 黑眼睛的帕勃罗告辞走了，音乐重又响起，赫尔米娜站起身。“现在你又可以和我跳了，哈里。你不想跳了？” 现在，我跟她跳得更轻松、更自由、更快乐了，虽说没有跟那一位跳时那样的自在、忘我。赫尔米娜让我带她，她如同一叶花瓣似的轻柔地随我旋转，在她身上我也发现并感觉到那些忽而迎面飘来、忽而又飞去的美，在她身上还有一股女性和爱情所特有的芳香，她的舞也仿佛在温柔而真挚地唱着可爱诱人的异性之歌——一然而，对这一切我都不能完全自由、完全明朗地给予口答，我不能完全忘掉自己，完全献身给她。赫尔米娜跟我太亲近了，她是我的朋友，我的姐妹，我的同类，她像我本人，像我年轻时的朋友赫尔曼——幻想者、诗人、我的思维练习和越轨行为的热情奔放的同志。 后来，当我对她谈到这一点时，她说道：“这我知道，我很清楚。虽然我会让你爱我，但不着急。我们暂时还是朋友，我们是希望互相成为朋友的两个人，因为我们互相认出了对方。现在我们两人要互相学习，一起玩儿。我给你看我的小小技艺，教你跳舞，让你快活一点，愚蠢一点；你给我讲你的思想，讲一点你的知识。” “啊，赫尔米娜，我没有什么好讲的，你知道的比我多。你这个人多么奇特啊，你这个姑娘。你对我什么都理解，总是走在我前头。对你说来我算什么？你不觉得我很无聊吗？” 她目光阴郁地看着地板。 ''我不喜欢听你这样说话。你想想那个晚上，你当时要摆脱你的痛苦和孤独，精疲力竭地、绝望地拦住我，成了我的朋友！你想，我为什么当时认出了你，而且能理解你？ " 为什么，赫尔米娜？please tell me. " '因为我跟你一样。因为我也和你一样孤独，和你一样不能爱生活，不能爱人，不能爱我自己，我不能严肃认真地对待生活，对待别人和自己。世上总有几个这样的人，他们对生活要求很高，对自己的愚蠢和粗野又不甘心。 " “你啊，你啊”我深为诧异地喊道。 '我理解你。朋友，没有人比我更理解你。然而你对我又是个谜！你对待生活玩世不恭，你对种种细小的事情和享受都十分崇敬。你就是生活中的这样一个艺术家。你怎么还能受生活之苦呢？你怎么会绝望？ " “我不绝望，哈里。可是受生活之苦，噢，我可是太有切身体验了。你觉得很惊奇，我会跳舞，在生活的表层如此熟悉一切、精通一切，却不感到幸福。而我呢，朋友，也感到惊奇，你对生活如此失望，而在最美好、最深刻的事情——精神、艺术、思想——却如此精通熟悉。正因为如此，我们互相吸引，我们是兄弟姐妹。我会教你跳舞、游玩、微笑，但我不会教你满意。我要向你学习，对你要作思考和了解，然而也不会学会满意。你知道吗，我们两个人都是魔鬼的孩子？” “是的，我们是魔鬼的孩子。魔鬼就是精神，它的不幸的孩子就是我们。我们已经脱离了自然的轨道，游离在虚空中。不过，现在我想起了一点事：我给你讲过《论荒原狼》，里面谈到，如果哈里以为他只有一个或两个灵魂，他是由一个或两个人构成的，那么这只是他的幻想。每个人都是由十个、百个、千个灵魂构成的。” “这话太中我的意了赫尔米娜喊道：“比如在你身上，精神的东西很发达，训练有素，而在所有小的、次要的生活技能方面却相当不行。思想家哈里一百岁了，而舞蹈家哈里出生还不到半天。现在我们要扶植舞蹈家哈里，让他成长，扶植所有跟他一样小、一样笨、一样未成年的小兄弟。 " 她抿嘴一笑，看着我，改用另一种语调轻轻地问我： “你觉得马丽亚怎样？” “玛丽亚？她是谁？” “就是跟你跳过舞的那位。一位很漂亮的姑娘，真是很漂亮。据我的观察，你有点儿爱上了她。” “你认识她？” “噢，是的，我们很熟。她让你有点儿牵肠挂肚了吧。” “我喜欢她，我很高兴，我跳得不好，她却对我那样宽容。” “难道就这些？你应该对她殷勤一点，哈里。她模样那么俊俏，舞又跳得好，况且你已经有点儿爱上了她。我相信，你会成功的。” “啊，我可没有这个奢望。” “现在你有一点不说真话了。我知道，在哪个角落你有一位情人，你每半年和她见一次面，见了面就争吵一通。你忠于这位奇特的女友。当然这样做很好。不过恕我直言，我并不把这件事看得那么认真。而民，我怀疑你对爱情就那么认真。你尽可以那样做，尽可以以你理想的方式去爱；这是你的事，我无须探这个心。我要操心的是，你要稍稍学会一点生活中小的、简单的技艺和游戏，而在这方面我是你的老师，比你理想的情人更好的老师，你要相信这一点！你非常需要再次跟一位漂亮的姑娘睡觉，荒原狼。” “赫尔米娜，”我痛苦地喊道，“你倒看看我，我是个老人了！” “你是个小男孩。你懒得花力气学跳舞，现在学似乎有点晚了；同样，你也懒得下功夫去谈情说爱，说那种理想式的、悲剧式的爱，噢，朋友，这一点你能做得很出色，对此我毫不怀疑，而已非常钦佩。你现在得学习稍许像常人那样地爱人。你已经有了个很好的开端，很快就可以让你去参加舞会了。至于波士顿华尔兹舞嘛，你还得好好学习，我们明天开始。我三点钟到你那里来。话说回来，你觉得这里的音乐怎样？” "Great." “你看，这也是一个进步，你又学到了一点东西。在这以前，你一向不喜欢这类舞曲，不喜欢爵士音乐，你觉得这种音乐太不严肃，没有深度，现在你可看见了，根本不必那么认真地去看待这种音乐，然而它能招人喜爱迷恋。另外，要是没有帕勃罗，整个乐队就算完了。他在指挥它，给它激情。”