Käsebier Takes Berlin by Gabriele Tergit

Author:Gabriele Tergit [Tergit, Gabriele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2019-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

Käte was at her wit’s end. She was in debt. Despite having hordes of students, she still hadn’t finished paying off the move or the new furniture. In addition, she had forgone everything in the divorce, even taken on the debt. She had wanted to get out. Mr. Herzfeld was what he was.

“I should have never married him,” she said to Miermann, who felt that Mr. Herzfeld should have assumed the debt and paid her alimony, or at least given her a temporary allowance.

“You’re at an economic disadvantage, and on top of that, you’re a woman. I don’t understand why you didn’t take advantage of the laws in your favor. Woman are feeble creatures. All that talk of independence is nonsense, after all.”

“You belong to a different generation,” Käte said. “The debt is mine. I should never have married him. I wanted to be taken care of, that was my cross to bear. So why should he have taken on the debt? I wanted to leave him. Ultimately, he loves me in his own way. Why shouldn’t I make it easier for myself to get away? And how could I take money from someone I’m completely indifferent to? No, I’m independent now. I don’t want to feel tied down.”

“Why not take money from him, just for a bit?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t accept capitalist justice, where a man owns his wife.”

“You’ve made up your own set of mores, though you don’t even know if they’re justified, and they make your life quite difficult.”

“It’s my only option. The notion that women should let themselves be fed by men is immoral. I don’t accept presents, either.”

“But surely you don’t agree with those young girls who snap as soon as they’re given silk stockings.”

“Yes, I do,” said Käte, half laughing. “Flowers and sweets are fine for women, but silk stockings are practically prostitution. Any other clothing is prostitution plain and simple.”

“And what if you want to shower someone with love?”

“There are other means. I also think that there’s something impure about unmarried people falling in love.”

“???”

“They’re focused on a goal. Love can only be completely pure and aimless if both parties are otherwise committed. In all other relationships, one thinks of, hopes for, and wishes for marriage, and defers the feeling of love.”

“Years ago, we would have called that the transvaluation of values, but the younger generation doesn’t read Nietzsche anymore.”

This entire conversation took place in the small café on Mauerstrasse, as usual. It was one thirty. Käte had eaten breakfast. Miermann wanted to pay for both of them. Käte wouldn’t permit it. She smoked one cigarette after another and got in a taxi. She drove to Waldschmidt at the Berliner Tageszeitung. Clever Waldschmidt had a soft spot for her.

In his office, it was business as usual.

“Welcome, welcome, dear child,” Waldschmidt said, covering up the mouthpiece of the telephone. “One moment please, have a seat, I’m just on the phone. —Yes, councilor. —No, impossible.”

He put down the receiver and said to Käte, “He talks so much that he doesn’t even notice if you’re not listening.

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