Soul of the Age (14 page)

At the dinner table I have to sit with my fellow patients for an hour a day, listening to their exhaustive discussions of their ailments. One of them has again slept poorly; it took another four weeks to lose a single pound. A fat man, who is still quite young, spent four hours yesterday running around in the woods, going back and forth the whole time along the same path, only to deprive himself subsequently of the benefits of this activity: that evening he couldn't resist the tempting pudding (which he is not allowed). So once again he didn't lose any weight, and it's the fourth time that this has happened. He goes on a diet and doesn't exercise or vice versa.

Having to contend with such foolish and ridiculous ailments is so aggravating that one feels a sense of relief on encountering genuine illness. One can certainly find examples of the latter here; all these spas and guesthouses were built for seriously ill patients, but one hardly ever sees them now, since the jaded splendor and aimless bustle of life at the resort have pushed them into the background. But there are some places, along a few of the more modest forest paths or in the lying-in room of one of the guesthouses, where one comes across the pale face of real misery and genuine suffering and feels moved and quite shocked, yet oddly enough, the experience also makes one feel good. It's not just that one begins to laugh at the self-important airs of this comical and useless little world; one can see one's own complaints in perspective and doesn't take them quite so seriously. And on a rare occasion one finds oneself gazing quietly and with brotherly fellow feeling at a white, suffering, and very human face, responding to a glance which suggests seriousness rather than curiosity, or a silent greeting.

That's what my life here as a patient at the Badenau spa is like. I roam about the quiet forest paths in the morning, spend the afternoons resting and dozing off, occasionally read a bit of Walther von der Vogelweide or Mörike in the evening until the fellow in the white linen arrives with his water bucket. There are times when I don't have anything at all on my mind, and I just listen to the rustling treetops and murmuring brooks. I sometimes spend hours thinking about the intense suffering marking the anxious, pale faces that greeted me. And I sometimes get a kick out of the guests, the little ponds, the whole fraud. One gets to see some beautiful people here, just like everywhere else. There are few really beautiful English people around since they are either at a higher altitude or at the seaside. But one can certainly find racial features that are characteristically Slavic, German, and Latin, well-dressed children, and some interesting women's faces. I'm pleased to discover that our good Schwarzwald folk have nothing to be ashamed of when set among all these ethnic types; the Alemannic features can stand comparison with the firm, finely chiseled features of all these foreigners.

That's quite enough! You'll be hearing from me soon again.

TO JOHANNES HESSE

Gaienhofen, March 6, 1910

Many thanks for the printed matter, which I read with interest. I'm really sorry that you have become so preoccupied with this idol business, because it's not clear to me why anybody could attach any significance to it.
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Everybody knows that Europe produces all sorts of goods in the hope of making a profit, and liquor, gunpowder, and obscene pictures, etc., are, of course, far worse than idols. I don't doubt that manufacturers here are producing idols, but surely they intend to sell these items primarily to European travelers rather than to the natives; those factories churning out idols are, after all, a branch of the arts-and-crafts industry. Every day we mass-produce reproductions of the famous Apollo and Minerva, and even install them in our schools—so why not reproduce Krishnas or Buddhas or the like? There are establishments in Munich, Berlin, and elsewhere where one can buy extremely beautiful, sophisticated Japanese and Oriental objects, and everybody knows that most of them are forgeries—i.e., sensitively crafted artifacts made in Europe according to designs from Japan and elsewhere. But no manufacturer is honest enough to put his own label on items like that, as you saw yourself in the case of those Indian pictures.

Your investigations will thus be useless, since the most dangerous manufacturers, those who fear publicity, are never going to give themselves away. There's a lot of factual information available, much of it widely known, and occasionally a daring journalist will publicize the matter without being able to prove it. There are trials daily in which severe penalties are imposed on the journalist or whoever did the insulting, even though everybody in the courtroom from the plaintiff to the judge realizes that this ugly business does go on, although it cannot be proven. It's not sufficient to have the right intention when pursuing such cases of forged curios; one really needs to work like a detective. In any case, I don't see anything wrong with European “ladies” (why not “gentlemen” as well?) wanting to buy idols and amulets on their Oriental travels. You liked having that glass cabinet with Indian curiosities in your room in Calw; why shouldn't others be allowed to bring similar items back from their travels and display them at home? Even in Italy, I bought rosary beads, etc., merely as souvenirs. The fact that some Europeans are producing items like this for profit is not in itself a violation of conventional European business ethics. I have heard from travelers to India, and I know quite a few, that they consider a “genuine Buddha”—i.e., a sculpture of Buddha made in India—a rare find.

That's enough; you know all this already. But I would like to stress the difficulty of proving the allegations in the press. A case in point is the commentary in
März,
which, incidentally, I didn't find any more intolerant or fanatical in terms of tone and substance than those articles in the church paper. I'm sure the author knew for certain that idols are being produced in Idar (I don't consider it inexcusable that he wasn't as well informed about the numbers of pagan Maoris as an expert on the missions), but was unable to prove it conclusively. Perhaps an employee or business associate of the factory told him about it, but requested that he never disclose the name of the firm. That happens every day in the press. All I wanted to say is that a news item or allegation in the press is not null and void just because it cannot be proven in a court of law.

Moreover, as I have said before, I don't agree with the point of view of the commentator in
März;
I have become more tolerant, indeed quite impartial in religious matters, and in any case I can no longer believe in the exclusive validity of the religious outlook that I grew up with. I don't think it's right that the natural sciences, the rules of logic, and a sense of equity should determine how we think about everything from nature to history, except for religion, an area which could certainly use that. The only reason I retain my reverence for genuine, deep-seated piety, no matter how worldly the life I lead, is that I have witnessed genuine piety ever since childhood. I would be the last person to oppose any attempt to get everybody on earth to share this particular belief, should that ever be conceivable! But as the years went by, I realized increasingly that there are very few truly pious people and that instances of this genuine, pure, self-effacing piety are to be found in all higher religions. As for the decadent official version of Christianity that is predominant here, I find its attitude toward culture utterly hostile. And that is the only reason why I'm participating, albeit in a secondary role, in an important, serious-minded cultural project that is aimed partly against the Church (not against the faith). This sums up my relationship to
März
as regards that matter. As you well know, my religious needs cannot be satisfied by such activities, so I listen to everything from the Bible and ancient legends to the Koran, and eavesdrop at several gates to paradise.

I'm off to Strassburg tomorrow. If you haven't heard again from Hans, I could ask my Frankfurt physician to make some inquiries and find out how he is doing and which hospital he is in. But since he is an overworked physician, I don't want to burden him until I hear it's necessary.[ … ]

We're surviving somehow, and feel delighted that there is a bit more spring in the air. My nerves long for the sun, summer, and freedom; I often work like mad, so I can travel or just spend time ambling about.

TO FRITZ BRUN
82

[
ca. May/June 1911
]

[ … ] All the best wishes to you in your new quarters! It's always fun to settle in, add one's personal touch to a few rooms, and bask in the wonderful illusion of being in complete possession and control, whereas actually those objects possess and control us rather than vice versa. I would give an arm and a leg to be a poor, merry bachelor again, with nothing to my name except twenty books, a couple of extra boots, and a box with secret poems. But I am now a paterfamilias, a house owner, and an all too popular writer, and since I have little faith in pathos and even less talent for it, I'm trying to take things lightly, so I can at least wind up as a humorist.

TO CONRAD HAUSSMANN
83

Gaienhofen, July 9, 1911

Dear Friend,

[ … ] My wife is expecting
84
about the end of this month, and if all goes well, I shall disappear for some time and there will be no way to get hold of me. I have booked a ticket to Singapore; a friend is coming along;
85
we want to travel around Sumatra, and then I want to spend some time catching butterflies in the jungle near Kuala Lumpur, a mostly Chinese city of 160,000 people; I was invited by a Swiss technician who lives alone there. On the way back, I shall visit Ceylon and, if circumstances prove favorable, maybe a bit of southern India too.

But, please, not a word about any of this yet, since it might not work out at all. At the moment, I'm busy learning English and making preparations, and I get a clearer idea each day of the amount of stuff necessary for a journey like this, not just shirts and clothes, other things as well. I shall look quite elegant since, funnily enough, it's impossible to get into the tropical jungle without first making an appearance on board ship or in the English ports wearing a nice dinner jacket.

While I'm gone, you will have to fill in for me occasionally on
März,
by which I mean you should just keep on trying to influence things in the direction we want. I shall not write anything about the journey for
März,
but hope to return with some worthwhile inner acquisitions.

TO JOHANNES HESSE

Gaienhofen, July 28, 1911

[
Original in English
]

My dear father!

As I have written on a postcard, we have got a little boy the day before yesterday. The little fellow is in good health and likewise the mother. Butzi and Heinerli have a great pleasure in the new brother. Maria has a nurse that is very good and kind, and we find it better that she has remained here instead of going to Basel or Zurich.

Last Sunday I was at Friedrichshafen, following to an invitation of the Zeppelin society, and I took a drive in the new airship “Schwaben.”
86
I was two hours in the air, over Lindau and Bregenz till up to Feldkirch, by the finest weather, and I was very astonished to see how comfortably the drive was effected. One has no uneasiness neither other sensations and it seemed to me the best manner of traveling. I would like to drive in this way to India!

Now my english acquirements are exhausted.

TO CONRAD HAUSSMANN

Steamer York
[
end of November 1911
]

I'm again sailing across the bluish-black seas, for days and weeks on end, am living in a cramped little cabin, and trying meanwhile to cure the injuries that the outside world has inflicted on me. Since I shan't be able to write letters for some time after my return (Christmas), I'm sending you a few more lines from on board.

The news about the changes at
März
87
reached me just as we were about to leave Colombo. I'm writing to Langen, to say I'm resigning from any further editorial responsibilities. I would find it impossible to keep doing the same type of editorial work (reading manuscripts, dealing with authors, reviews, lots of correspondence) without decent renumeration; being without independent means, I just scrape by, with my three youngsters. It wouldn't be right for me to appear on the masthead as an editor if I'm not actually doing the work. For you and Thoma, the situation is quite different:
März
is an organ that allows you to express your strong political temperaments and your hopes for the future, whereas politics has always felt like alien territory to me. I'm sad to be losing the foothold in the practical world that
März
afforded me, and I shall have to keep an eye out later on for something similar. My departure from
März
—I shall, of course, remain a contributor—won't alter our relationship one whit.

I had to abandon lower India—in any case I had only planned to travel in the South—partly because the cost of living and traveling here is far greater than I had expected and greatly exceeds my resources, partly because my stomach, bowels, and kidneys have gone on strike. But I did get a good look at the Straits Settlements and the Malay States, and southeastern Sumatra as well, then spent my final fourteen days in the mountains of Ceylon, but I was, unfortunately, sick most of the time, and it rained a lot. On the whole, I was not all that impressed with the Indians; like the Malaysians, they're weak and have no future. The only ones who really look strong and have a future ahead of them are the Chinese and the English, not the Dutch, etc.

The tropical nature I saw was mostly jungle, but there were also the rivers of Sumatra, the Malaysian seas with their numerous islands, and the fabulously fertile island of Ceylon. As for cities, Singapore and Palembang were particularly interesting. I saw the following peoples: Malays and Javanese, Tamils, Singhalese, Japanese, and Chinese. Nothing but wonderful things to report about the latter: an impressive people! As for most of the others, they are in a sorry condition, the poor remnants of an ancient paradisiacal people, whom the West is corrupting and devouring; by nature these so-called primitive peoples are affectionate, good-humored, clever, and talented, but our culture is finishing them off. If the whites could withstand the climate and could raise their children here, there would be no Indians left.