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Authors: Andrés Neuman

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Sophie clasped her hands together smiling discreetly, and said: In principle I concur with Herr Hans's dream. Herr Gottlieb's eyes narrowed. He lit his pipe, and appeared to set his thoughts on fire. Don't exaggerate, Professor, said Álvaro (don't exaggerate about what? asked Professor Mietter), about Spain (ah, said the professor). Would anyone like some more pastries? Sophie said, standing up and evading Hans in the round mirror.
For a while Hans's mind strayed from the discussion. When he went back to it, Álvaro was speaking. Spain? he was saying, well, that depends, I was in the habit of reading Jovellanos and Olavide. My dear man, Professor Mietter said, with genuine interest (although Hans, still unable to distinguish the nuances of his voice, thought he was being ironic), I'm afraid we do not know who those two might be. Then it will be my honour to enlighten you, said Álvaro (and now Hans was unsure if he meant it ironically), and don't worry, Professor, we Spaniards are used to it—my country boasts few thinkers, the few we have
are rather good at it, and abroad everyone thinks we have no thinkers at all. Olavide was a courageous man, too much of a Voltairean to be a Sevillian, or too much of a Sevillian to carry out a French-style revolution. Scarcely anyone read him then and now they read him even less. Jovellanos on the other hand became quite well-known. He was a learned man although, shall we say, not without his contradictions. His vocation as a priest compromised his reformist tendencies, if you see what I mean. Naturally, he was too intelligent not to offend many people. Where I come from, dear friends, even moderate liberals end up in exile. A change of monarch was enough to send Jovellanos from the Madrid court to the Asturian mines, and from there to a prison where he was allowed to swim in the sea under guard, without ever really changing his cautious opinions (how interesting! exclaimed Frau Pietzine. It reminds me of a novel I read recently. My dear, Sophie said, stroking her arm, do tell us about it later) until at the last he died of pneumonia. I would even go so far as to say, my friends, that in Spain it is well nigh impossible to be a liberal and not to die of pneumonia. To Hans's surprise, Professor Mietter took a notebook from his pocket, jotted down a few words and said: And in your estimation, Herr
Urquiho
, what is
Hovellanos
's best work?
Urquijo
, Álvaro said, smiling. His best work? That is hard to say. In my view Jovellanos's greatest achievement was to make Spain understand that the way its people play, amuse themselves and fight bulls depends on the way they live, work and are governed. Ah, I see, Mietter said, glancing up from his notebook, a product of the French Enlightenment. Álvaro sighed: A genuine one, yes. Hans sensed he was holding something back and asked: But? Pleased by his intuitive response, Álvaro nodded at him as he replied: Only that he took Communion every fortnight! (Hans glanced at Herr Gottlieb and stifled a laugh.) There it is, the Spanish Enlightenment was a melancholy joke.
Seeing her mollify Professor Mietter with praise as she smiled enthusiastically, Hans began to suspect Sophie's silence was strategic rather than a result of her having no opinions. Perhaps she enjoyed the passion of their debates. Perhaps she encouraged them by avoiding interrupting their ripostes while keeping the professor as happy as possible. This woman will reduce me to a nervous wreck, thought Hans. But,
mein Herr
, said Professor Mietter, straightening his spectacles, order in Europe is absolutely essential; I need hardly remind you of all the wars and invasions we have endured. Professor, replied Hans giving a sidelong glance in the mirror, there will never be order in Europe without a just order in every country. Is it not worth at least giving a thought to the fact that the constitutions imposed on us by our invaders have given us greater freedoms than our own?
At that moment, there was an interplay of glances—in the round mirror Hans saw Herr Gottlieb turn to look at him, while at the same instant he saw Sophie trying to catch his eye in the glass to signal to him he should look round. Hans wheeled just in time to say: I beg you to excuse my vehemence, sir. Herr Gottlieb shook his head, as though declining to issue any judgement. My dear Monsieur Hans, Sophie broke in, my father is respectful of everyone's opinion and appreciates the freedom with which we express ourselves in this salon. It is one of the things I most admire about him, is it not, dear Papa? Herr Gottlieb smoothed his whiskers in a gesture of modesty, took his daughter's hand and settled back in his armchair. This, ahem, commented Herr Levin with unexpected archness, is precisely what I was saying,
laissez faire, laissez passer
. Everybody laughed as one. An invisible cog appeared to be released and began turning once more. In the mirror, Hans saw Sophie raise her eyebrows.
Gnädiger
Herr Hans, resumed Professor Mietter, will you tell us why you detest Metternich so much? Because he has a big nose, replied Hans. Sophie was unable to stifle a giggle. Then
she glanced at her father, looked away and hurried off to fetch some more cake, taking Elsa with her. Álvaro joined in: His Majesty Friedrich Wilhelm is also rather well endowed in the snout department—perhaps that explains why he is able to ferret out anything that whiffs of republicanism. Professor Mietter, who had an amazing ability to remain all the more calm when he seemed about to lose his temper, responded in a patronising voice: Who does not aspire to
liberté et fraternité
?
Sans rancune bien sûr, mais qui ne les voudrait pas?
Why, Our Saviour himself preached them! Frankly, gentlemen, you astonish me with the old-fashionedness of your newfangled ideas. Remember, Herr Gottlieb chimed in, raising his forefinger and poking his whiskers out from behind his armchair like a beaver popping up its head, remember what happened after the storming of the Bastille. My dear Monsieur, replied Hans, with the way things are in France now, it would be no surprise if they storm it again. Professor Mietter gave an abrupt laugh. I see you possess
l'esprit moqueur
, Hans added. As they looked one another in the eye, each was forced to concede that the other spoke French with an impeccable Parisian accent. Just then, Sophie re-emerged from the corridor. The flurry of her skirts stopped at the fireplace. Herr Hans, my dear young friend, Professor Mietter went on in a more mellifluous tone, let us be reasonable, consider where the Revolution has brought us, as our dear Herr Gottlieb pointed out, and tell us—is this justice? Does it herald a new era? Chopping off heads? Going from one absolutism to another even greater absolutism? Overthrowing kings in order to crown emperors? Explain to us how this is meant to be our famous
liberté
? I have no idea, replied Hans, but believe me I know how
not
to achieve it
.
By abolishing constitutions and outlawing the freedom of the press, for example. In France, Álvaro added, they were promised a revolution, and all they got was an insurrection. A true revolution would be quite
different. Yes, but what, said Herr Levin, appearing to come to life, what would it be? I imagine, said Hans, it would be totally different, something that would change us before it changed our governments. At least in France, Álvaro said mockingly, governments start revolutions, here it is left to the philosophers. If we look at the meaning of the word in Latin it is quite clear, declared Professor Mietter,
revolution
means a turning back. It simply repeats itself. And I fear, gentlemen, that what you call freedom is merely historical impatience. Impatience, Professor, is the cornerstone of freedom, said Álvaro. Or not, ventured Herr Levin. Why not? Frau Pietzine intervened unexpectedly. Monsieur Hans? enquired Sophie. I would prefer, said Hans with a grin, not to lose my patience.
Cutting through the silence, Sophie suddenly said: And what about you, Madame Levin? Frau Levin looked up at her in horror. Me? she stammered, What about me? My dear friend, said Sophie, you are as quiet as a mouse! I am asking about your political views, if that is not too impertinent a question, she added, gazing at Herr Levin and fluttering her eyelashes enchantingly. To tell the truth, said Frau Levin reaching up to touch her chignon, I do not have any political views to speak of. Do you mean, Madame, said Álvaro, that you never think about politics, or that you find the subject tedious? Herr Levin said: Political discussions bore my wife because she never thinks about such matters. Monsieur Levin, sighed Sophie, you do have a way of breaking the silence!
Steam from their refreshments mingled with the smoke from Herr Gottlieb's pipe. Elsa and Bertold lit candles. Bertold whispered something in Elsa's ear; she shook her head. In the candlelight, Professor Mietter's features took on a faintly heroic air. And in my view, said the professor, far from considering Bonaparte's demise and the defeat of his armies as the end of an aberration, the French see it as the beginning of a magnificent
rebirth. French politicians are embittered and behave with a kind of offended innocence. I am not sure whether this will help them restore the nation or whether the nation will overthrow them a second time. Remembering too much is humiliating, yet if they pretend to be suffering from amnesia they will never understand how they got where they are. What you say is very true, said Hans, although we Germans would do well to remember this happened to us once and it could happen again. Quite so, said Professor Mietter, the traitors who aligned themselves with Bonaparte and now hope to unite us with Prussia are essentially doing just that, disregarding history and, why not say it, cultural differences. Esteemed Professor, Herr Levin said, are people so very different from one another? Is it necessary to dwell upon our divisions rather than? Take note, Professor Mietter interrupted, do those of you who speak blissfully of harmony, of a brotherhood of nations and who knows what else besides, believe the differences between people will disappear if you ignore them? Historical differences must be studied (but not inflated, interjected Hans), studied, Herr Hans, taken into account one by one so as to create realistic borders, not in order to play at recklessly suppressing them or moving them around willy-nilly. This is how Europe is behaving, as though we had all agreed to rush ahead without looking back. Allow me to point out, moreover, that under the old regime, our dukedoms, principalities and cities enjoyed greater freedom and autonomy. True, Hans retorted, straightening up in his chair, they had so much autonomy they never stopped fighting over who should rule. Gentlemen, declared Álvaro, this reminds me of Spain in the Middle Ages. Is that such a bad thing? asked Frau Pietzine, curious about the Middle Ages or about Álvaro de Urquijo. Not bad, he replied, far worse. I adore Spain! Frau Pietzine sighed, such a warm country! My dear Madame, said Álvaro, have no fear, you will get to know it better. Herr Hans, Professor
Mietter went on, what puzzles me is that you speak a great deal about individual freedoms yet resist the idea of nationalism as an expression of a people's individuality. That remains to be seen, said Hans, sometimes I think nationalism is another way of suppressing the individual. Ahem, an interesting thought, asserted Herr Levin. I am simply saying, the professor insisted, that if Prussia had done everything in its power to stop the advance of the Revolution, the French would never have invaded us. And I am telling you, Hans retorted, that we merely chose the wrong kind of invasion; we should have allowed ourselves to be invaded by French ideas, not the French army.
Seeing Professor Mietter take a deep breath in order to reply, Sophie held out a plate of warm sago to him and said: Monsieur Hans, please tell us more. Yes, Hans went on, we were betrayed and humiliated by Napoleon. Yet today we Germans rule ourselves and, oddly enough, having expelled the invaders it is our own government that oppresses us, is it not? My dear Monsieur Hans, interjected Herr Gottlieb, you must take into account that for twenty long years we have endured the humiliation of watching French troops march by, install themselves along the Rhine, cross Thuringia, capture Dresden—incidentally, my child, has your brother written to you? He hasn't? And yet he complains we never go to see him! Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the troops, they occupied Berlin and even Vienna, my dear Monsieur Hans, Prussia was nearly obliterated, how could you not expect a violent reaction? Let us not forget, my dear Monsieur Gottlieb, said Hans, that it was our very own princes who. I haven't forgotten, Herr Gottlieb interrupted, I haven't forgotten, still, I sincerely hope that one day the Prussians will avenge all those outrages. Don't say that, Father, protested Sophie.
Voilà ma pensée
, declared Herr Gottlieb, raising his arms aloft and sinking from view behind the wings of his armchair. We are quite capable of bringing about the destruction of Europe ourselves, without any help from Napoleon, said
Hans pensively. Indeed, I have just come from Berlin, Monsieur, and can I assure you I do not care one bit for the young people's eagerness for war. I wish our politics were more English and we had fewer Prussian policemen. Don't be frivolous, retorted Professor Mietter irately, those policemen are there to defend both you and me. They have never even addressed me, Hans said sarcastically. Messieurs, Sophie intervened, Messieurs, calm yourselves, there is still some tea left and it would be a shame to waste it. Elsa, dear, would you …
In the round mirror, Hans saw Sophie talking to Herr Levin, and he turned his attention to them. Monsieur Levin, Sophie said, you look rather pensive, tell us, what opinion do you have of our favourite monster? Ahem, said Herr Levin, none in particular, that is, well. Let us admit that among other things, ahem, worthy of mention, he introduced a certain civic equality, did he not? We quite understand, interrupted Professor Mietter with a scowl, I wonder what the Torah has to say about civic equality? My dear Professor, Sophie urged, that is not a joking matter. Then Álvaro said: Since we are on the subject, what does our charming hostess think of the matter? Hear, hear, agreed Professor Mietter, we are all dying to know. My dear, you are surrounded! declared Frau Pietzine. Herr Gottlieb's whiskers bristled with anticipation. Frau Levin stopped sipping her tea. Hans glanced back at the mirror, eyes open wide. What I think, Messieurs, Sophie began, and I am aware that compared to you all I am an ignoramus when it comes to politics, is that the failures of a revolution needn't make us regress historically. Perhaps I go too far in my conjectures, but you have all read
Lucinde
have you not
?
And do you not consider this slim volume a legitimate product of revolutionary aspirations? My dear Mademoiselle, said Professor Mietter, that book is not about politics at all!
Lieber
Professor, Sophie smiled, shrugging her shoulders delightfully in order to soften their disagreement,
indulge me for a moment, and let us pretend that it is, that
Lucinde
is a deeply political novel, because it speaks not of matters of state but of people's lives, the new intimacy of people's lives. Can there be any greater revolution than that of social behaviour? Professor Mietter sighed: What bores the Schlegel brothers are. And how stupid their railings against Protestant rationalism. The younger brother has proved to be as insignificant as his aphorisms. And as for his elder brother, the poor man can think of nothing more interesting than to translate Shakespeare. But Hans, overwhelmed, had turned away from the mirror. So, you are an admirer of Schlegel, Mademoiselle? he asked in a hushed voice. Not of Schlegel himself, replied Sophie, well, that depends. I adore his novel, the world he evokes. You have no idea, Hans whispered, how profoundly we agree. Sophie lowered her gaze and began shifting the teacups around. Moreover, Sophie went on, seeing that her father and Professor Mietter had begun a separate conversation, I think Schlegel has become like Schiller—he is terrified of the present. In fact, if those two had their way I would be too busy trying on dresses even to discuss their work. My dear friends, Herr Gottlieb suddenly announced, standing up, I hope you enjoy the remainder of the evening. Then he walked over to the clock on the wall, which said ten o'clock sharp. He wound it up as he did every evening at the same time. He gave a nod and retired to bed.
BOOK: Traveler of the Century
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