The Diary of Geza Csath (5 page)

‘Don’t hurt me, my dear sweet one, don’t hurt me, you’ll break me, my God, don’t hurt me!’
In the meantime, however, she embraced me with fire, and I could well see that her joy exceeded her pain. We both soon reached ecstasy and looked at each other astonished. She had only bled slightly, no doubt on account of the copious Vaseline I used and also because I had not penetrated her roughly. I did not want to rip the curtain apart entirely, and was satisfied to have got halfway through the door.
Afterwards, I was a little frightened of what I had done. She was a weak, kind little girl, after all! What would happen if she conceived? Such questions thronged in my mind, and I bothered the sweet thing no more at the baths. A few days later, when she departed, I forced thirty crowns on her and provided her with advice and stamps, so that she could inform me of her condition. Later, in Budapest, she sought me out once a week for further treatments, usually on Sundays. On these occasions I always served her coffee, oranges, and pastry, and made her sing the songs she heard in the Budapest night. Her musicality left me in awe more than once. I played the piano for her many times. During a selection from
Lohengrin,
she exclaimed: ‘How beautiful!’ She understood music. She could sit at the piano for hours playing tunes, and working at harmonizing them.
‘Oh, Lord,’ she sighed, ‘what a shame I can’t do it with my other hand too!’
In the Green Mirror women’s baths, a pretty servant named Anna Schwarz had attracted my attention almost since the beginning of the season. Wide face. Creole-pink skin. A splendid body, rock-hard breasts. Huge muscles. Big, round blue eyes. Fuller than usual lips and a slightly crooked little bird’s nose. She was a distrustful, apprehensive virgin. Only after lengthy wrestling was I able to bring her lips to a kiss. When it happened, however, she embraced me fervently and kissed me back. I was astounded; she kissed like an artist of love. I could get no further, though. A couple of times she promised she would come up to my apartment, but she always deceived me. She never came.
Finally, I succeeded in getting her to come to my office one Sunday afternoon. Once there, she lay down on the couch, but heaped obstacles in the way of further natural developments, leaving no doubt that her lust was much weaker than her fear of possibly losing her virginity. Thus I let her go without having deflowered her. On the occasion of my leaving, however, she came to see me and left me her address, in case I needed a servant in Budapest. From this I deduced that my desire had affected her after all, and had awakened in her the desire to be mine. She was a blue-eyed woman. A peasant Lulu! In other words, she wanted definite value in exchange. A position as a servant would have satisfied her.
Another little affair also occurred in August. Kitty W. was a pretty lass who had been to America, the daughter of a machinist’s wealthy widow. I had treated Kitty’s mother for gout. The daughter had awakened my interest weeks before, with her fine, slim body, big bird nose, lively bird’s eyes, strange and endearing bird-like movements. Her complexion was a brilliant pink, she wore a pretty English hairstyle, high-heeled shoes and a tight skirt. In the restaurant, we frequently engaged in lively exchanges with our eyes. She appeared to be a flirtatious and lively girl. I was displeased to discover she was engaged. Still, when she escorted her mother to my office and we shook hands, I noticed that she put vigour into her return of my weak handshake, and that she even smiled back at me from the door to the foyer. A few days later, I met her at the stairs on the second floor.
‘Wohin gehen Sie?’
‘Hinauf zum Mama!’
‘Warten Sie, bitte, ein wenig.’
¹¹
I held her nervous little white hand. She stopped, her face shone with the blush invading it, and the sparkle of her eyes revealed that I was free to dare. I embraced and kissed her. She returned the kiss ardently – our lips did not part for twenty or thirty seconds. From then on, under various pretexts (urine tests for her mother etc.), she often came to my office alone. She allowed every genre of flirtation, but she saved her chalice for her fiancé.
Nota bene,
in a few days I had the opportunity to see this little treasure of hers in its entirety. She wished to have herself examined as a brideto-be. I found fissures in her hymen. On my inquiry, she admitted that someone had seduced her when she was eight or nine. The seducer, however, could not have been a mature male. Utilizing this information, I made an effort to convince her not to deny me her charms, since her husband-to-be would not be getting her as a virgin anyway! I was curious to know how debauched she was. I was rather pleased when she resolutely denied my request (and I consider this strengthened will to be the effect of American morals and breeding). On the other hand, she declared that she loved me and would always love me.
Before she left she brought her fiancé as well. He stood before me, a slim, well-dressed boy with a respectable look. A little thin, but healthy. That is, not completely: he showed a slight
orthostatic albuminuria.
This, however, I did not tell the girl, nor even the patient. I met Kitty on one other occasion, when she came to escort her mother home. She was quite forthcoming, sought me out, undressed down to her undershirt, hugged me, kissed me, and left with tears in her eyes. Three months later, she sent me a warm-hearted wire in German, inviting me to her wedding.
18 August was approaching. The day set for the arrival of my sweet little Olga. All summer long we had exchanged letters daily and talked on the telephone every week. (I will never forget her sweet, longing, faithful voice, as it flew toward me from Budapest, from her little room above the drugstore.)
I had returned to the poison. Mainly to ensure calmness for our forthcoming and dangerous trysts.
On 18 August, at noon, they arrived. I embraced the sweet girl with overflowing joy – she had been my wife, practically speaking, for almost a year. Kissing her lips, I felt that the sexual delight offered by this girl was incomparable. All the ladies and girls I had kissed all summer out of professional enthusiasm did not give as much joy put together as this woman with a single kiss. In half an hour she was changed and waiting for me in her room. A few pounds heavier than at our last meeting, in her black batiste robe with white dots and her belt-like little corset, she seemed more beautiful than ever. We fell upon each other’s lips eagerly. We were genuinely drunk with ecstasy and our eyes were swimming in tears. After excusing ourselves from her father’s company we were soon walking on the remote paths of the park, arm in arm, experiencing unforgettable, happy feelings. We wanted to fuse with the least possible delay. We found ourselves out in the pine forest, looking for a suitable place. Unfortunately, we could not find appropriate cover, and did not want to awaken the father’s suspicion by staying too long.
We were also involved in an unpleasant incident. In the grass, I discovered a gigantic horse skull. I was very pleased to find it, because it was pure white. The worms had cleaned it impeccably. We tied it onto my stick, and to make it easy to find for the servant we intended to send for it, we took the skull to the little gazebo in the wood. There, however, a horrid, unfamiliar woman who looked to be the wife of an artisan protested against the skull being left there. She even wanted to give me a lesson in decorum: ‘I’m astonished that, as a doctor…!’, etc.
That made me lose my equanimity.
‘Refrain from being astonished and giving me lessons in manners. I take exception to you daring to criticize me in any way. Where is a male relative of yours, so that I may demand satisfaction on account of your behaviour?’
‘I am Mrs Fekete, and that’s my husband coming over there.’
Mr Fekete, a haggard, big-nosed, pathetic old dentist arrived. We already knew each other. Now I knew why the repulsive, blue-eyed, blonde-haired, servant-like wife of his was so up in arms. I had met her too, but as I did not remember the meeting, I hadn’t greeted her. Most likely Olga’s beauty, her youth, and our happiness also provoked the envy and vexation of Mrs Fekete’s base spirit. I got nowhere with the dentist Fekete so I left not knowing what to do. It was clearly ridiculous to ask for satisfaction from that pitiful figure.

In the evening I discussed the matter with Nozroviczky, the honorary chief magistrate, and as Mrs Fekete had even used the expression
this lady,
we decided in favour of the challenge. The next day Fekete
apologized
to my seconds and I locked the official report in my desk.

Olga and I walked until nightfall. We were only apart an hour and a half, while I had my afternoon office hours. During this time I received a letter from Mrs G (I will speak of her later) asking for a rendezvous that evening. I responded that I would go if at all possible – I couldn’t promise because I had guests.

We encountered Mrs G later the same day, several times, during our walks. Her face showed considerable concern.

Sandor arrived that night. I had invited him by wire to enlarge our little company, and thus to make the whole affair seem to the women of the baths and to Mrs Braun not like a ‘visit from the fiancé’, but rather a ‘meeting of good friends’. It worked.

Olga and I did not meet the first night. Her father’s plan to take a room adjoining hers had not succeeded, but caution seemed advisable. Besides, I wanted to arrange the encounter under the stars. Around midnight I descended and knocked quietly – despite the agreement. From inside, all I could hear was the dear girl’s deep breathing. So I went back to my room and was sleeping soundly myself before long.
We met around nine o’clock in the morning at breakfast. Olga wore a light green raw silk robe, a green silk scarf on her shoulder, a pretty hairdo, she was washed, fresh, young, beautiful – perhaps more than I had ever seen her before! After breakfasting, we left to walk, leaving the father to his own devices on the terrace of the restaurant. We hurried to search for an appropriate spot in the pine forest. Our excitement was already excessive. It was a brilliant, beautiful warm morning, but the grass was still a little dewy. We had to find a place that was protected if possible, where we wouldn’t have to worry about surprises, and where the ground was covered by dry pine needles. It wasn’t easy, because I wasn’t really familiar with the forest. Like the fleeing Walsung offspring, Sigmund, I hurried far ahead, trampling across the fallen pine trunks, while Olga followed me stumbling, scarf on her arm, knees giving way from inner excitement. Finally, we found a place. I spread out the green scarf, she quickly lay down, lifting her skirt. She sensed that our mutual and extreme desire made unnecessary the modesties and protests she otherwise never neglected. Spread out before me were her clean, tight lace pants and her clinging, thigh-high net stockings. Between the stockings and pants there was a two-inch-wide segment of naked thigh. The corset’s tight garters hindered penetration, however. I unfastened them. Then I undid the snow-white pants, and, almost dizzy with pleasure, I caressed the thick, coal-black hair of her little cunt. I lay down on her and embraced her. On account of the great excitement, we had to wait a few moments, but when she tenderly stroked the stallion, it obediently began to rise, and the inhibitions ceased almost entirely after the first

friction, later disappearing altogether. That embrace in the fragrant pine forest, in the brilliant, sunny morning under the blue-grey sky, was divine pleasure. And perhaps a moral delight too: it was terrible to think that the poor thing might return without us having sacrificed to our love at least once. Slowly, arm in arm, our journey punctuated by kisses, we returned to the baths. To explain our lengthy absence better, we bought potted flowers at the gardener’s and took them home. In this way, we could deflect the father’s attention from Olga’s somewhat wrinkled skirt. We couldn’t use the scarf to cover it: it was soaked with dew and sperm.

The rest of the morning turned out quite well. While I was in my office, kindly Sandor occupied Olga; and with similar self-sacrifice, he left us alone when I arrived. It occurred to me that I would never be able to give him fitting thanks for this piece of kindness. In the afternoon I apprised my father – who was waiting anxiously for the news – of the chances for the marriage, then Olga and I went to the park again, to roam.

Tenderness almost overflowed on both sides, and we were both inexhaustible in lyrically recounting episodes of our summer apart. On our first walk, the day before, Olga had already posed the question:

‘How can you think such a thing, my child!’ I said, but without truly convincing force.
‘Oh, my God,’ she whimpered sweetly, examining my face, ‘I can see you’ve cheated on me. Confess, I forgive you, you’re a man, confess, sweet darling.’
But I confessed nothing; instead, as she desired, I swore that I had been true to her.
Olga and her father retired early, so that waking early would not cause difficulties. It seemed her father believed Olga and I wanted to discuss what we would do that night during the proposed ‘
partie de lune
’, and for that reason he did not agree to the walk. So we separated. I took a long walk with Sandor afterwards, smoking cigarettes and chatting; then, around ten o’clock, we went to lie down. I changed into the tried and tested outfit. Rubber-soled shoes, a loose, soft grey nightshirt (without vest), stockings, and a hat. I left the condom behind but did not forget the Vaseline. Around 11.45, after sneaking down to the first floor making as little noise as possible on the creaking staircase, I first established that Olga’s father was snoring, then knocked on the sweet one’s door. Soon the key clicked, and with weak, pleasurable excitement, I stepped inside. A candle was the only light inside the room. Olga sat on the bed in a thin batiste shirt, which her curves filled out even more than usually. The shoulders consisted of nothing but thin straps. (I liked these shirts of hers very much. Unfortunately, there were only three of them.) She had done her hair again for the occasion. She wore her hair in ‘shells’ on each side; and on top of her head she had smoothed out her hair from the parting. This preparation gave her a sweet, shameless, womanly air. I felt she was like a Renaissance woman. She covered her face with her pretty arms, and the excitement made her stomach convulse. I locked the door and quickly undressed. Soon we sank into a flood of kisses. When she pressed against me lightly in this half naked, nobly stimulating condition, a piercing, warm happiness flooded me. She, poor thing, must have felt something completely different. Her teeth chattered; their rhythmical clattering could be clearly heard; her body trembled and she had goose bumps. I covered the keyhole, laid her down on the couch, and with my magic wand soon released her from the tortures of fear. I felt her become calm in my arms, her skin warmed, her cold trembling stopped completely, giving way to sweet, hot, maddening rapture, this most beautiful, most blossoming child of youth and love. Soon we reached the moment of ecstasy. We whispered for five or ten minutes more, promising each other eternal love, then in view of the situation, which was unremittingly worrisome and frightening, I departed. Olga’s father had made significant mention of his ability to wake at night whenever he wanted. I considered the foregoing and my little wife’s need to get her sleep. Thirdly, not being in training, my testes worked more slowly, according to the physiological rule, and I could anticipate another pleasurable copulation only within three-quarters of an hour to an hour hence. Therefore, amidst ardent kisses and hugs, I left the room. Had I availed myself of one or another of the women who offered themselves in the previous weeks and carried out regular daily coitus, I could have caused more numerous transports for my little Olga. Would she have forgiven me, the sweet thing, had I done that in her interests, for her sake and to increase pleasure for both of us? I think not.
I slept wonderfully until morning, when the porter woke me according to my instructions. I dressed hurriedly so that I could have breakfast with Olga. I found her still in her room, the whole place still full of the scent and memories of the night’s events. During breakfast she sweetly declared that she would stay with me or run away from home and come to me, and her kindness gave me much joy. At the train station, I jumped up onto the carriage after her and covered her with kisses in the narrow corridor. I was downcast afterwards, as I returned to my office with Sandor. We went to the baths shortly thereafter.
While we bathed, we engaged in much talk about our women, marriage, its likelihood, rules to be followed, etc. We were disturbed by little relatives of Mrs Braun, the landlord, Austrian Jewish girls in tight bathing suits. One of them caught Sandor’s fancy. She was called Frida Steinlich. She had blue eyes, a Greek nose, a large forehead and an outstanding figure, and reminded Sandor of Sophie Tiegarmann, his former love from Ujfured
¹²
. I introduced them, but without great results. Because of the girl’s pretentiousness, Sandor was not able to attack. Later, in the last days of the season, I experimented for several whole afternoons with this Frida, out of boredom and in the interests of practising German. I managed to get her to walk far into the woods with me alone, something she was completely unwilling to do at first. I did with her what I did with Szidi, for example, and – what I hold to be quite a good idea with musical Jewish women – I took her to a church and played the organ for her. This pleased her in the sexual sense as well. I also fascinated her as a sorcerer. I declared that I could read her expression and that I knew she had been in love a year and a half ago, been disappointed, and thought back to the affair often, sometimes without any emotion, but sometimes with quite bitter feelings. She was astonished, confessed that everything was true down to the last detail, and maintained that I had

heard the story from someone. The truth was I hadn’t

heard the story from someone. The truth was I hadn’t year-old girl even if she was blue-eyed, I deduced that she had already been through it. She swore that no one had ever kissed her. I declared I would be the first. And so it was. The girl didn’t behave warmly or kindly – perhaps she recognized the whole thing was a game to me – so I put an end to the affair. Her cousins told me she cried whole afternoons in her room, but rather than make up with her I ignored her. Later, we were on good terms again for a couple of days, but when I renewed my attack, she reacted in the same way as before. I did not speak to her again. I held her in contempt because I saw that she loved me. Many times she crept to the window when I played the piano and watched me for a long time. If I had supper with company, she watched me from the terrace outside. She and her cousin, Grete Loeff, whose love I had also awakened, spoke only of me. This was confided to me by the chambermaid, who was a witness to their discussions. Nevertheless, I shook Frida’s hand on my departure. Her voice was soft and tearful. She was waiting for some confession, some promise, even the slightest one
– but she was disappointed. I told her I was sorry we hadn’t been able to understand each other, and that I was sure we would meet again.

‘Aber wo, Herr Doktor, aber wo?’ she asked. ‘Irgendwo,’ I answered.
¹³
I did this with professional enjoyment, and felt great

satisfaction in being able to take revenge on the species of blue-eyed women, in my own name and, as far as this girl was concerned, in Sandor’s name as well.