The Walk by Robert Walser

Author:Robert Walser
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Profile
Published: 1982-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

So! I’ve Got You

One who could not trust his eyes looked at the door of a room to see if it was closed. Indeed it was closed, and properly to be sure, there was no reason to doubt it. The door was definitely closed, but he who did not trust his eyes did not believe it, sniffed about the door with his nose, so that he could smell if it was closed or not. It was really and truly closed. Without question it was closed. It was by no means open. By all means it was closed. Undoubtedly the door was closed. Doubt was in no way to be feared; he who did not trust his eyes, however, doubted strongly that the door was actually closed, although he clearly saw how tightly it was shut. It was as tightly shut as those doors which cannot on the whole be shut any tighter, but he who did not trust his eyes was still a long way from being convinced of that. He stared hard at the door and asked it if it was closed. “Door, tell me, are you closed?” he asked, but the door gave no answer. It was, anyway, not at all necessary that it answered, since it was closed. The door was perfectly in order, but he who did not trust his eyes did not trust the door, did not believe that it was in order, continued to doubt that it was in order. “Are you really shut or are you not shut?” he asked again, but of course the door anew gave no answer. Can one demand of a door that it give an answer? Again the door was looked at suspiciously to find out if it was truly closed. At last he comprehended that it was closed, at last he was convinced of it. Thereupon he laughed loudly, was very happy that he could laugh, and said to the door: “So! I’ve got you,” and with this fine expression he was satisfied and went to his daily work. Is not such a person a fool? Certainly! but he was just one who doubted everything.

Once he wrote a letter. After he had it quite ready, i.e., had completely finished it, he looked askance at the letter, for once again he did not trust his eyes and was not close to believing he had written a letter. The letter had, however, certainly been written, there was no doubt about it, but, as with the door, he who did not trust his eyes sniffed about the letter with his nose, was the height of suspicion and wondered if the letter was really written now or not. Without doubt it was written, it was definitely written, but he who did not trust his eyes was in no way convinced of it, rather he smelled, as I said, cautiously and carefully around the letter and asked in a loud cry: “Letter, tell me, are you written or not?” The letter naturally did not give the slightest answer.

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