The Berlin Stories: The Last of Mr Norris/Goodbye to Berlin (1935) by Christopher Isherwood

Author:Christopher Isherwood
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Short Stories (Single Author), Fiction
ISBN: 9780811218047
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 1963-01-01T12:00:00+00:00

"You're preparing for war," says Peter indignantly. On these occasions--although he has really not the slightest interest in politics--he gets quite heated.

"Excuse me," one of the boys contradicts, "that's quite wrong. The Führer does not want war. Our programme stands for peace, with honour. All the same..." he adds wistfully, his face lighting up, "war can be fine, you know! Think of the ancient Greeks!"

"The ancient Greeks," I object, "didn't use poison gas."

The boys are rather scornful at this quibble. One of them answers loftily. "That's a purely technical question."

At half-past ten we go down, with most of the other in- habitants, to the railway station, to watch the arrival of the last train. It is generally empty. It goes clanging away through the dark woods, sounding its harsh bell. At last it is late enough to start home; this time, we take the road. Across the meadows, you can see the illuminated entrance of the café by the lake, where Otto goes to dance.

"The lights of Hell are shining brightly this evening," Peter is fond of remarking.

Peter's jealousy has turned into insomnia. He has begun taking sleeping tablets, but admits that they* seldom have any effect. They merely made him fee! drowsy next morning, after breakfast. He often goes to sleep for an hour or two in our fort, on the shore.

This morning the weather was cool and dull, the sea oyster-grey. Peter and I hired a boat, rowed out beyond the pier, then let ourselves drift, gently, away from the land. Peter lit a cigarette. He said abruptly: "I wonder how much longer this will go on...."

"As long as you let it, I suppose."

"Yes... We seem to have got into a pretty static condition, don't we? I suppose there's no particular reason why Otto and I should ever stop behaving to each other as we do at present...." He paused, added: "Unless, of course, I stop giving him money."

"What do you think would happen, then?"

Peter paddled idly in the water with his fingers. "He'd leave me." • The boat drifted on for several minutes. I asked: "You don't think he cares for you, at all?"

"At the beginning he did, perhaps... Not now. There's nothing between us now but my cash."

"Do you still care for him?"

"No... I don't know. Perhaps... I still hate him, sometimes--if that's a sign of caring."

"It might be."

There was a long pause. Peter dried his fingers on his handkerchief. His mouth twitched nervously.

"Well," he said at last, "what do you advise me to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

Peter's mouth gave another twitch.

"I suppose, really, I want to leave him."

"Then you'd better leave him."

"At once?"

"The sooner the better. Give him a nice present and send him back to Berlin this afternoon."

Peter shook his head, smiled sadly: "I can't."

There was another long pause. Then Peter said: "I'm sorry Christopher... You're absolutely right, I know. If I were in your place, I'd say the same thing... But I can't. Things have got to go on as they are--until something happens.

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