Panorama (50 page)

Professor Rumpler then arrives in the midst of this maelstrom. “Dash it all, what’s going on now! I can’t leave the building for a second! Why is everyone here, Horn? What’s going on? There’s no one downstairs at the cinema, where is Klinger? He’s a joke, that Klinger, he doesn’t belong in a cultural center. I have my hands full, is no one taking notes, who is taking notes? I’ve forgotten everything, what do you need? What’s going on?” Some of the employees have left, though Horn, Schrimpl, Kramer, and Michel remain, as well as Frau Michalik, Rosensaft, and Schebesta. “I guess I have to take care of everything myself. Indeed, I can’t count on anyone here to help! What do you want? What can I do? Who is that?” Frau Michalik wants to have at Rumpler, but Schrimpl holds her back, Schebesta meanwhile retreating into himself, as Josef returns to stamping the tickets, though Horn points to the angry Rosensaft and says, “Herr Professor, this is today’s speaker scheduled for the small auditorium. The gentleman is supposed to talk about Italy, but he is making things difficult for us.”—“What difficulty, sir. I’m afraid I don’t know you, what seems to be the difficulty? Krupka should come in, how many tickets have been sold, what’s wrong, why isn’t anyone saying anything? What is Lawetzer doing? Fräulein Weinstock, Fräulein Maus?” Rosensaft then asks, “Are you the director?”—“Yes, I’m Professor Rumpler. But you, who are you to cause such difficulties?”—“My name is Rosensaft. I find that this man, who has not introduced himself, is impertinent. I arrive here and ask the concierge where my room is, then go up, only to find everything a mess, no epidiascope, and so I head to the main office in order to clear things up, and this man crudely throws
himself at me in a way that no one has ever done before.”—“Slow down, my dear Rosenblatt …”—“Rosen
saft
, please.”—“Excuse me, Rosen
saft
, there’s no need to get so riled. Have you ever given a talk that caused you to lose your nerve? Dash it all, then you should see Thomas Mann or Gerhart, I mean Hauptmann, before a talk, the way they sit completely at ease in my office and talk to me about the most sublime things, as if nothing were going on, each word a pearl, just think, Herr Rosensaft, indeed, it all comes from an excess of the most profound human intellect! Such giants don’t get upset if something distracts me, it can happen that my telephone will ring, you have no idea what I have to tend to, but the great ones maintain their composure and thus help sustain me. No, take it from me, Herr Rosensaft, one doesn’t create any kind of good impression with the public when you get so upset! Legions of people have spoken here and, not to insult you, some of them quite famous, genuine luminaries in front of full-capacity crowds, and yet the more important they were, you must believe me, the humbler they were as well. You should have seen the glorious impression made by Gerhart, he looking like the famous sunken bell, like
Hanneles’ Ascension
, not the piece itself but it’s author! You should have seen it, the wonderful head of Goethe, the gray Olympian—that’s culture, the eternal values of mankind inside one brain. But Herr Rosensaft, you can still aspire to the same, you are still a young man. I mean you well, give me your hand. We need to be friends, we need to trust each other, we are all of us human, all of us human, as Schiller said.”—“Herr Professor, that’s all quite lovely, what you say. But this man insulted me. I don’t compare myself to Hauptmann or to other celebrities, and all I want is to give my talk. For that I need an epidiascope and someone to run it. Italy without pictures, however, is not possible.”—“But of course, my good sir, you should give your talk. What’s it about? Ah yes, Italy! Also a wonderful theme of the master Goethe—Venetian nights, gondola rides, the moon rising with its lovely silhouette over the Grand Canal. I’d love to hear it myself, but unfortunately there’s a staff meeting. Look at me, if you can see me at all, I haven’t had a break since Monday, not even so much as for a cup of tea. But well then, Horn, what’s with the epdiascope?”

“Herr Professor, Schuster is sick. I asked Dr. Kramer whether he knows how to run an epidiascope, but he doesn’t appear to know how to do that
and listen to insipid gossip at the same time. Then Saybusch said he was ready to, but only if he’s paid extra, which is shameless.” Rumpler yells, “That’s unheard of! Get Saybusch! What’s the meaning of this? Dash it all, do I have to run the epidiascope as well?” Saybusch then appears. “Why won’t you do what you are told?” Saybusch doesn’t allow himself to get rattled. “I do what I am told. But the epi is not part of my job. I won’t do it for free.”—“My dear Saybusch, you are still young, and therefore idealistic. The beautiful pictures, Italy, they will inspire your own drawing. Maybe you’ll even take a trip there and will already have a taste of it. Do you know Herr Rosensaft’s pictures? Dash it all, they are the finest pictures I know.” Saybusch stands strong. “I’m prepared to do it. But not for free.”—“My dear Saybusch, you are a materialist, which makes me sad, but come see me tomorrow, I want to talk with you in private. I’ll give you a day off if you’ll do it.”—“Herr Professor, I already have three days off coming to me. I won’t do it for free!”—“You scoundrel, then you’ll have four days free, next week off from Sunday through Wednesday!” An usher arrives and asks when Herr Rosensaft will be ready, the audience is waiting for the man to talk about Italy, and they are impatient, it’s already eight-thirty. Horn then asks how many there are. Fräulein Weinstock had sold sixty-three tickets at the door. Lawetzer had already sold four or five ahead of time. Then Rosensaft complains that it’s a shame there are so few people, no one had circulated enough notices, as had been agreed to, too few advertisements, though Dr. Horn challenges him by saying, “Herr Rosensaft, we understand this business better than you. We know how much we tried to publicize it! Can’t you see that Herr Professor Rumpler is completely exhausted? Please, just go up there and give your lecture!”—“And the epidiascope?” Then Rumpler says to Saybusch that he’ll be compensated, he should head up with the epidiascope, but the latter writes out an invoice and hands it along with a pen to the Professor, who okays the extra fee.

Rumpler then wants to head to his office, and Horn should accompany him, but now there is no holding back Frau Michalik, as she wrests herself away from Schrimpl and throws herself at Rumpler, standing in his path and spitting at him, “Now it’s my turn! Only over my dead body, Herr Professor Rapp!” Then the Professor turns completely soft and pats Frau Michalik on the cheek. “I’m so worried about you, my dear, you seem so upset! I’m not
getting any younger, either. Dash it all, when people like us have to bend over backward!” Frau Michalik says, “If only I could speak with just you, then everything will be settled. You are still a human being, Herr Professor Rapp! No one will let me get in to see you! My love of animals is misunderstood, it’s only a part of my love of people. You already know about my plans for a society for mixed marriage. I have to bring that up in Parliament, I have to get on the radio! To read the animal tales! But your people here are no good. Dr. Horn or Korn, whoever he is, is terrible to me!”—“My dear, he’s not so bad! Our dear Horn is a bit nervous, indeed, but don’t let him get to you, he just smokes too much and certainly didn’t mean anything by what he said. Relax!”—“I am relaxed, but he can’t say that I’m not quite right. I have to read my animal tales on the radio! Herr Professor Rapp, my talk, which you know and love, is supposed to be for the series ‘Classical Witnesses!,’ and it still has all those beautiful passages from new writers. That has to go on, early after the morning workout!”—“One moment, my dear friend! Take this down, Horn, remind me about this important woman, mixed marriages, Frau Michalik, a talk about classical animals, already on the program, after the morning workout, hand it on to Schrimpl, don’t remember, I mean forget! Does that satisfy you? Of course we will write to you, tomorrow, take it down, everything is settled!” With grand gestures the Professor shakes her hand, and then quick as lightning he disappears into his office with Horn, though once more she opens the door to the central office and yells out, “I won! I will speak on the radio and read my stories, even if you all go to pieces! Give my best to Professor Rapp!” Then she heads off, slamming the door behind her.

Schebesta sits in the foyer, as well as Josef with his block of tickets, Schebesta asking him, since it’s now quiet, whether he could again see the Fräulein who had the pendant with the fly agaric on it, but before Josef can reply they hear the voices of Rumpler and Horn calling, “Staff meeting! Staff meeting!” Josef says he cannot do anything for him right now, but he accepts a copy of Schebesta’s manuscript as he renews his offer of fifty percent and says he’d like to have a response in the next week. Josef takes his two blocks of tickets, as well as the materials with which to stamp them, and the manuscript on fungi into the administrative offices, where Rumpler sits at his desk, his left hand on the crown of the bust of Goethe, Horn and
Schrimpl, as well as Grenadier, Maus, and Auer all there, the others not, which bothers Rumpler, who says, “How rude to keep me waiting. My young doctor, we’ll see what this means. What did you get done today? Now show me what you’ve got there! Stamping tickets? Now, isn’t it a shame that an academic should be reduced to doing that? I didn’t even have to do that when I was in elementary school. Who gave them to you? It must have been Krupka. Indeed, I should have guessed, the blocks of tickets need to be monitored. What gave Krupka the idea to turn over the blocks to you? Did you know about this, Dr. Horn? I see, you knew nothing at all. Dash it all, Dr. Horn, I leave the building and everything goes to pieces. Where is everyone? Doctor, what else do you have there? Show it to me, that doesn’t belong to you! Schrimpl, what is that? A radio talk, something important, make a note right away, someone should speak to Zenkl, something to do with agriculture, ‘On the Growing of Fungi from Seeds or Spores, with Special Concern for Poisonous Fungi, by Lothar Schebesta,’ a new discovery, Schrimpl, read it right away, Fräulein Grenadier, for the next staff meeting, Dr. Horn as well. Doctor, run around quick and fetch everyone and tell them they should come to the staff meeting!”

As Josef walks into the main office, the telephone rings and he reaches for the receiver, but he doesn’t know how to work the system, so he sets the receiver down again and it stops ringing as he hurries off to the business office, where Krupka sits unconcerned. “Herr Krupka, here are your ticket blocks. I didn’t stamp all of them. I will continue with it tomorrow, but today it was impossible to finish.” Krupka looks at the tickets and notices that only half of one block has been stamped. “That took a little while, Herr Doctor. You should be able to finish two blocks inside an hour. But haste makes waste. Auer often doesn’t do more than one block per day.”—“Herr Krupka, you should come to the staff meeting!” The bookkeeper agrees, he’ll be there shortly. At this Josef heads back to the administrative offices and is asked where everyone is hiding. Josef answers that there is no one in the main office, though in the business office Herr Krupka said that he’d be right there, but then Rumpler yells out, “Doctor, I already told you I have no work for you! Dash it all, don’t you want to make yourself useful? What can you do? Nothing at all! Just saunter around the office and the entire building! I’m afraid I have to be candid with you, for at the Cultural Center
we value candidness, and of course Herr Dr. Horn will forgive me, but he is very dissatisfied with your performance and capabilities thus far. I, of course, don’t want to say anything, for you’re just beginning, but you have been warned. Dash it all, you can’t be my private secretary, for that I need a man, a lover of truth, discretion, honesty, true humanity, but no bloody beginner. There’s nothing you know how to do, be it typing, stenography, the epidiascope, they are all Greek to you. Michel, the jackass outside, can stamp tickets. But where is everyone? Doctor, skip downstairs, Klinger should be there, I need Klinger right now!”

Josef leaves the office, but before he looks for Klinger he takes his hat and coat out of the main office, then he slowly and quietly walks down the steps, the entire building quiet, as he approaches the concierge’s booth, Puttrich sitting there comfortably with a cigarette as he reads the evening paper. Josef wants to ask about Klinger, but Puttrich speaks up first, saying, “Had enough already for today or for good?” Josef replies that he wants to think about it, but it’s enough for today, yet he still has an assignment, the Professor wanting to see Herr Klinger upstairs in the staff meeting, but at this Puttrich laughs heartily and says, “Didn’t I tell you? Only the films are worth anything here, nothing else. Everything else is a waste of time. The old man can wait. Herr Klinger already said good night and is long gone.” At this Josef also wishes him good night and heads out through the vestibule, the ticket booth dark and closed, Frau Lawetzer also having left, everything still, the quiet whir of the projector the only thing audible, Josef curious whether Herr Krönert had indeed picked up his loge seats. Then Josef looks over the notices in the vestibule, the lecture by Herr Rosensaft posted, other curious photos present there, as well as some photos of the lecturers next to a poster that says
THE HISTORY AND MISSION OF THE RED CROSS
, Josef also looking over the notice for the talk by Dr. Auchlicht on the role of hormones in human life, as he considers what Rumpler would say about it, whether it will draw or not draw. Then Josef thinks about the Minister of Health, who came too early to the lecture by Hauptmann and was thrown out by Ignaz from the loge, though Rumpler was there to save culture, he standing at the edge of the pool of humanity with his net as he snags the deaf fish, who is then thrown back into the watery film, though he sinks beneath the weight of the bell, ascension, dash it all, never taking place.

Josef is now on the street, standing under the blue neon lights that spell out
CULTURAL CENTER
in large letters, everything exuding the feel of culture, a place of Goethean calm and the pure human spirit, but all of it destroyed through stamped tickets, lectures churned out with accompanying photos, an epidiascope that is not run for free, radio talks trilled by canaries, it’ll draw, all tickets sold out, a panorama of culture, people needing to be nourished by true intellect, though Josef is not a useful member of society, for he doesn’t know how to properly stamp tickets, while others make epochal discoveries, Frau Michalik having selected beautiful passages from new writers about mixed marriages between red shirts and brown, and now everything on the street is still, the culture of the times concentrated inside this building, the conflicts between right and left resolved through the love of animals, Professor Rumpler raising poisonous mushrooms in the face of today’s nihilism. Above, on the second floor, are the offices, lights on everywhere, even the drinking glasses and coffee cups of the employees visible on the windowsill, but not a single employee, while the curtains are closed at three of the windows, which must be the Director’s office, everyone except the circus man Klinger gathered at the staff meeting, Rumpler and Goethe, Thomas Mann and Gerhart Hauptmann, Dr. Horn and Sven Hedin, Schrimpl and Krupka, as well as the four women, all of them deliberating, and Goethe speaking to them, patting Rumpler on the shoulder and saying, make a note, write a report, indeed, dash it all, of course, important, and everyone bearing up under it, nothing bad is meant by it at all. But Josef doesn’t know what will proceed from what is going on up above, perhaps more ideas for Schnitzler, the subvention from the Ministry of Education, Kummerhackl’s book, Klebinder’s charity work, Eckermann or the President’s office—Josef will never know, for he has decided not to return tomorrow, wanting to look elsewhere for someplace where he is needed, everything closed and silent, a thick mugginess hovering in the air above the pool.