Hanns Heinz Ewers Alraune (6 page)

Oh yes, they all belonged here without
exception. They all had a little gypsy blood–despite titles and
orders, despite tonsures and uniforms, despite diamonds and golden
spectacles, despite all the civilized posturing. Some were
devouring food; others were making small detours away from the path
of civilized decency.

A roar resounded and merged with Frau
Marion’s singing. It was the Gontram rascals fighting on the
stairs. Their mother went up to quiet them down. Then Wölfchen
screamed in the next room and the girls had to carry the child up
into the attic. They took Cyclops along, putting both to bed in the
narrow child’s wagon.

Frau Marion began her second song,
“The
Dance of Shadows”
from the opera
“Dinorah”.

The princess asked the Privy Councilor about
his latest endeavors and if she could come once more to see the
remarkable frogs, amphibians and cute monkeys. Yes, she could
certainly come. There was a new species of rose that she should
really see. It was at his Mehlemer castle. He also had large white
camellias that his gardener had planted; she would be interested in
them as well.

But the princess was more interested in the
frogs and monkeys than the roses and camellias so he related his
endeavors to transfer eggs from one frog to another and
artificially inseminate them. He told her that he had already
produced a beautiful female frog with two heads and another with
fourteen eyes on its back.

He would dissect one and remove the eggs from
it and fertilize them before transferring the little tadpoles to
another frog and just like that, the cells would merrily divide and
develop into new life with heads and tails, eyes and legs.

Then he told her about his efforts with
monkeys, relating that he had two young long tailed monkeys that
were being suckled by their virgin mother–She had never even seen a
male monkey!

That interested the princess the most and she
asked for all the details. She had read something about it but
didn’t understand all the Greek and Latin words. Maybe he could
explain it to her in perfect German so she could understand?

The obscene cliches and behaviors dripped out
of the Privy Councilor as he explained in anatomical detail just
what he did. Spittle drooled down from the corners of his mouth and
ran down his heavy, hanging lower lip.

He enjoyed this game, this obscene chatter,
watching her voluptuously slurp up every shameful word. Then when
he was close to saying an especially repulsive word, he would throw
in “Your Highness” and savor with delight the titillation of the
delicious contrast.

And how she listened to him! Her face was
becoming flushed, excited, almost trembling, sucking this Bordello
atmosphere in with all of her pores, as he unveiled what really
went on behind the thin scientific banner.

“Do you only inseminate monkeys, Herr Privy
Councilor?” she asked breathlessly.

“No,” he said, “also rats and Guinea pigs.
Would you like to watch, Your Highness, when I–”

He lowered his voice, almost whispered.

She cried, “Yes, yes! I must see it! Gladly,
very gladly! When?”

Then she added with a slow, almost evil
dignity. “Did you know, Herr Privy Councilor, that nothing
interests me more than the study of medicine. I believe I would
have been a very talented doctor.”

He looked at her and grinned widely, “No
doubt, Your Highness.”

And he thought, that she certainly would have
been a much better Bordello Mother. But he was satisfied; he had
his little fish hooked safely on his line.

Then he continued again about his new breed
of rose and the camellias at his castle on the Rhine. It was so
troublesome for him, and he had only taken possession of it as a
favor. The location was such an excellent one and the view–Perhaps
when her Highness finally decided to buy a place she might–

Princess Wolkonski decided herself, without
any hesitation at all.

“Yes, certainly Herr Privy Councillor, yes,
certainly, naturally I will take your castle!”

She saw Frank Braun going past and called out
to him, “Hey, Herr Studious! Herr Studious! Come over here! Your
uncle has promised that I can observe one of his experiments. Isn’t
that delightfully charming? Have you already seen what he
does?”

“No,” said Frank Braun. “I’m not at all
interested.”

He turned to go away but she grabbed him by
the arm and stopped him.

“Give me a cigarette! Oh, and, yes, a glass
of champagne please.”

She shivered in hot desire, beads of sweat
crept over her massive flesh. Her crude senses had been whipped to
a frenzy from her shameless talk with the old man. Her passion
needed a goal, a target, and it broke over the young fellow like a
huge wave.

“Tell me, Herr Studious,” her breath panted,
her mighty breasts threatened to leap out of her dress. “Tell me,
do you believe that–that–Herr Privy Councilor–his science–his
experiments with artificial insemination–does he do it with people
as well?”

She knew very well that he didn’t, but she
needed to say it before she could get to what she really wanted
with this young, fresh and handsome student.

Frank Braun laughed, instinctively
understanding what she had in mind.

“But of course, Your Highness,” he said
lightly. “Most certainly! Uncle is already working on it, has
discovered a new procedure so refined that the poor woman in
question is not even aware of it. Not at all–until she wakes up one
beautiful day and discovers that she is pregnant, probably in the
fourth of fifth month!

Be very careful Your Highness, keep a
watchful eye on Herr Privy Councilor. Who knows, you might already
be–”

“Heaven Forbid!” screamed the princess.

“Yes, it could happen,” he cried. “Wouldn’t
it be very unpleasant? When you have done absolutely nothing to
make it happen!”

Crash! Something fell off the wall, fell on
Sophia, hitting the housemaid right on the head. The maid screamed
out loud and in her fright dropped the silver tray she had been
serving coffee on.

“A shame about the beautiful silver service,”
said Frau Gontram calmly. “What happened?”

Dr. Mohnen immediately took a quick look at
the crying housemaid, cut a strand of hair away, washed the gaping
edges of the wound and stopped the bleeding with a yellow Iron
Chloride wad. He didn’t forget to pat the beautiful girl on the
cheeks and furtively squeeze one of her firm breasts. Then he gave
her some wine to drink, spoke to her, lightly in her ear.

The Hussar lieutenant stooped, picked up the
thing that had caused the damage, raised it high and looked at it
from all sides.

There were all kinds of remarkable things
hanging on the wall. There was a Kaneka Idol, half male and half
female, colorfully painted with yellow and red stripes. Two old
heavy and deformed riding boots hung there complete with impressive
Spanish spurs. There were all sorts of rusty weapons as well

On the gray wall was also pressed the
Doctorate Diploma of some old Gontram from a Jesuit College in
Seville. Near it hung a wonderful ivory crucifix inlaid with gold.
On the other side was a large heavy Buddhist cross with a rose in
the center carved out of green Jade. Right above that you could see
the large tear in the wallpaper where a nail had torn its way out
of the brittle plaster.

It was a brown dusty thing made of rock hard
wooden root. It looked like an ancient wrinkled man.

“Oh, it’s our alraune!” Frau Gontram said.
“It’s just as well that it fell on Sophie, she has a hard
skull!–When Wölfchen was born I gave that disgusting manikin to
him. I was certain he would be able to break it to pieces but he
couldn’t.”

The Legal Councilor explained, “This has been
in our family for over two hundred years now. It has done this once
before. My grandfather told us that once in the night it sprang off
the wall and fell on his head–He was completely drunk when it
happened though–He always liked having a few drops to drink.”

“What is it really?” the Hussar lieutenant
asked.

“Well, it brings gold into the house,”
answered Herr Gontram. “It is an old legend–Manasse can tell you
all about it–Come over here, Herr Colleague, tell us, Herr
History–What is the legend of the alraune?”

But the little attorney didn’t want to, “Why?
Everyone knows it already!”

“No one knows it, Herr Attorney,” the
lieutenant cried at him. “No one. Your learning greatly overshadows
that of modern education.”

“So tell us, Manasse,” said Frau Gontram. “I
always wanted to know what that ugly thing was good for.”

He began. He spoke dryly, matter of factly,
as if he were reading some piece out of a book. He spoke unhurried,
scarcely raising his voice while swinging the manikin root back and
forth in his right hand like a baton.

“Alraune, albraune, mandragora–also called
mandrake–mandragora is its official name, a plant belonging to the
Nightshade family. It is found around the Mediterranean, Southeast
Europe and Asia up to the Himalayas. Its leaves and flowers contain
a narcotic that was used in ancient times as a sleeping potion and
during operations at the illustrious medical college in Salerno,
Italy. The leaves were smoked and the fruit made into a love
potion. It stimulates lust and increases potency. The plant is
named Dudaim in the Old Testament where Jacob used it to increase
Labaan’s flock of sheep.

The root plays the leading role in the saga
of the alraune because of its strange resemblance to an old male or
female figurine. It was mentioned by Pythagoras and already in his
time believed capable of making a person invisible. It is used for
magick or the opposite, as a talisman against witchcraft.

The German alraune story began in the early
Middle Ages in connection with the crusades. Known criminals were
hung stark naked from a gallows at a crossroads. At the moment
their neck was broken they lost their semen and it fell to the
earth fertilizing it and creating a male or female alraune. It had
to be dug out of the ground beneath the gallows when the clock
struck midnight and you needed to plug your ears with cotton and
wax or its dreadful screams would make you fall down in terror.
Even Shakespeare tells of this.

After it is dug up and carried back home you
keep it healthy by bringing it a little to eat at every meal and
bathing it in wine on the Sabbath. It brings luck in peace and in
war, is a protection against witchcraft and brings lots of money
into the house. It is good for prophecy and makes its owner
lovable. It brings women love magick, fertility and easy
childbirth. It makes people fall madly and wildly in love with
them.

Yet it also brings sorrow and pain whereever
it is. The house where it stays will be pursued by bad luck and it
will drive its owner to greed, fornication and other crimes before
leading him at last to death and then to hell. Nevertheless, the
alraune is very beloved, much sought after and brings a high price
when it can be found.

They say that Bohemian general Albrecht
Wallenstein carried an alraune around with him and they say the
same thing about Henry the Eighth, the English King with so many
wives.”

The attorney became quiet, threw the hard
piece of wood in front of him onto the table.

“Very interesting, really very interesting,”
cried Count Geroldingen. “I am deeply indebted to you for sharing
that bit of information Herr Attorney.”

But Madame Marion declared that she would not
permit such a thing in her house for even a minute and looked with
frightened, believing eyes at the stiff bony mask of Frau
Gontram.

Frank Braun walked quickly back to the Privy
Councilor. His eyes glowed; he gripped the old gentleman on the
shoulder and shook it.

“Uncle Jakob,” he whispered. “Uncle
Jakob–”

“What is it now boy?” The professor asked. He
stood up and followed his nephew to the window.

“Uncle Jakob,” the student repeated. “That’s
it!–That’s what you need to do! It’s better than making stupid
jokes with frogs, monkeys and little children! Do it Uncle Jakob,
go a new way, where no one has gone before!”

His voice trembled; in nervous haste he blew
a puff of smoke out from his cigarette.

“I don’t understand a word you are saying,”
said the old man.

“Oh, you must understand Uncle Jakob!–Didn’t
you hear what he said?–Create an Alraune, one that lives, one of
flesh and blood!–You can do it Uncle, you alone and no one else in
the world.”

The Privy Councilor looked at him
uncertainly. But in the voice of the student lay such certainty,
conviction and belief in his skill that he became curious against
his will.

“Explain yourself more clearly Frank,” he
said. “I really don’t know what you mean.”

His nephew shook his head hastily, “Not now
Uncle Jakob. With your permission I will escort you home. We can
talk then.”

He turned quickly, strode to the coffeepot,
took a cup, emptied it and took another in quick gulps.

Sophia, the other girl, was trying to evade
her comforter and Dr. Mohnen was running around here and there
hyper as a cow’s tail during fly season. His fingers felt the need
to wash something, to pick something up. He took up the alraune and
rubbed it with a clean napkin trying to wipe the dust and grime
away that clung to it in layers. It was useless; the thing had not
been cleaned for over a century and would only get more napkins
dirty. He was filled with the sense that something was not right.
He swung it high and skillfully threw it into the middle of the
large wine bowl.

“Drink alraune,” he cried. “You have been
treated badly in this house and must certainly be thirsty!”

Then he climbed up on a chair and delivered a
long solemn speech to the white robed virgins.