The Diary of Geza Csath (9 page)

Today was rainy, but not unpleasant. In the morning I examined a paralytic named Rady, who is full of jealous fantasies and illusions. He complained that the coachman is banging his wife, he can tell from certain signs, and for this reason he wants to divorce her. I calmed him as much as possible. After lunch Elemer gave me a shave and told me about yesterday’s football match. That scoundrel always puts me in a good mood. I had barely finished washing when I was called to the telephone. It was Szid. She asked me to come to the Pannonia [Hotel] urgently. I dressed in a hurry. I popped in at Gyula’s to say goodbye, and who do I find there but Winter and his Bozsi, engaged in a lively embrace and kiss. I wasn’t at all sorry for barging in on this ungainly, donkey-voiced, underhanded fellow, so I encouraged them to make use of the little time available and get on with the thing. The girl hardly blushed; a few months ago she was still a virgin. Winter deflowered her without giving any value in exchange, but had she stayed faithful she certainly could have counted on some compensation. She had obviously thrown away that possibility. I thought a lot about whether it was right to stay faithful for pecuniary and moral reasons. Finally, I concluded that for men, this type of faithfulness was not to be desired. In my own case, I only value faithfulness that rests on
purely sexual grounds
. If I discovered that Olga was true to me only for material or moral reasons, I would leave her right away. Not morally and materially, but sexually, in any case, right away. While I thought about this, I arrived at the Pannonia. The doorman said there were two people in the room; the woman received me alone, however. She wore street clothes. She started speaking in a friendly way and I soon recognized that it depended only on me whether the sacrifice would take place. She said her husband wouldn’t be home until 5.00, and she wanted to spend the time until then with me. I grew frightened because I wanted to be with my little Olga as soon as possible. All the more so as the day before there had been only a gallant conjunction sitting by the stove, which, because of the risk to propriety and the precarious nature of the thing, always left something to be desired. I felt a little ungrateful toward Szid., who was so devoted and admiring and who unconsciously allowed herself to be an instrument of revenge. Nor was her love killed by the coldness I showed concerning the continuation of the matter. The fact that she had an old and sick husband injured my pride. Compared to the attraction I felt toward Olga, my desire for the lady could be said to be […], though she was appetizing and full-figured. She said her weight was 84 kilograms. Seeing that I was not tuned for love, she pinned her hat on and invited me for a walk. I said I was free only until 4.00, when I had to visit a patient. Our walk took us to the bank of the Danube and to the Modern Café. She ate grapes, I drank black coffee. She inquired about my adventures, and how many children of mine women had taken home from Stubnya. I made discreet excuses, because I saw that she very much wanted to believe that I had achieved innumerable seductions. I couldn’t confess that I was engaged, and that I love my little Olga so much that I resisted every temptation. (By the

way, I notice that Olga too prefers to imagine I have been unfaithful, and privately considers my summer of sacred chastity a sign of ineptitude.) From the café, we went back out to the bank of the Danube and Sz. told me of the onslaughts she had endured from her husband’s doctors at the baths. She boasted of having spent 12,000 forints; her room had cost 32 francs a day. Then she heaped compliments and confessions of love on me and finally declared that she loved me very much and thought of me constantly.

Now comes the unique, womanly swinishness. She treats her husband very well and patiently because she thereby has the right to love me without guilt, so to speak. She expiates the sin with her great patience and suffering, and with her vigils. It’s not the thought I find immoral, but rather the astounding and matter-of-fact ingenuity of the defence mechanism, her having hit upon this justification so easily. Before we said goodbye she shed a few tears. She said it hurt her very much that I didn’t kiss her at least once, but told me that in spite of all that, if I ever wanted to marry her, she would be willing to divorce her husband and [leave her] children at any time, and to come wherever I ordered her. In consolation, I paid her a few banal compliments and told her the lack of a kiss was purely her doing, because she had behaved coldly. This was not true, of course, since waiting was natural behaviour for her; but she believed it in the end and was consoled. I ran to the streetcar at the Ferenc Jozsef bridge while she departed toward Eskuter. From ten steps away, she called out to me: ‘Don’t get married!’ In spirit I was already with my little ‘Ham’, however, and the warning fell on deaf ears.

Olga was very kind to me. She was sweetly anxious when, with a few modifications, I explained the reason for my lateness. (The woman had invited me to the hotel to examine her husband.) There was no + because her father was home. (They were comparing some text with dictation and listening to Olga’s angelic voice as she gave her slightly schoolgirlish reading was a genuine delight for me.) We had an amusing time and today nothing disturbed our harmony. Now, in the evening, I ascertain that I have smoked twenty-four Egyptian cigarettes today. I hereby swear that tomorrow I will smoke only six.

Discovery of the ‘baccio granda stabilimento’. It is accompanied by wondrous pleasure. The origin of our invention was necessity. Their divan is well-worn, and when we embraced, our enjoyment was disturbed by the most improbable creakings. To avoid it, I thought of the new variation, which worked brilliantly. This was our 230th act of coitus.

12.15 a.m. Today I begin a new era in my life. I must give up my M habit for good and relegate use of P to rare instances. In the last two days, there have been symptoms indicating that my system craves a serious increase in dosage. I must therefore put an end to the perilous game. This afternoon, ample and tempting pleasures slipped out of my hands irretrievably owing to my prodigality. In the afternoon I invited Olga for a walk. She had to change clothes. I opened her door. She stood in the middle of the room in new American shoes that came up high on her ankles, and a fresh shirt. I had never seen her this way before. She was adorable. I ran to her, and though the erection was greatly delayed by the brightness and the thought of the father coming home, we carried out
tergo coitus equinus
. The girl was marvellous, beautiful. My sexual pleasure, however, was imperfect, average – not the piercing and harsh ecstasy that would have been justified by the novelty of the situation. The cause was purely myself this time. I also recalled the unnecessary and silly .025 M employed at noon. See, you fool, if you hadn’t done it, you would now be enjoying divine ecstasy. It is an undeniable fact that in the sexual sphere, P does nowhere near as much harm as M.

They’ve just returned my rejected piece from Beothy. I bought a new box of
King James
²⁷
. I heard that
Elet
²⁸
published a piece of mine, earning me 60-80 crowns.

Now … for final renunciation of the poison. I feel it’s going to work. In the morning, I will awake with Gyula. I will take a bath. Quickly. We will have breakfast. One cigarette. Work. Work. Bath. A shave. Lunch. Defecation. Aspirin and Bromural. In the afternoon Olga + – +; 0.02 P between 4.00 and 6.00, just for another few days. From 6.00 to 8.00, career, work. Theatre. In the evening, theatre or writing here at home. The next week will unfold in this way. If I cannot do this, I will be lost.

Yesterday I almost completely succeeded in achieving what I wanted. In the morning, I did not use poison. By the afternoon, quite serious
inanition
manifested itself. This, however, I was able to vanquish. Finally O came. We spent a sweet afternoon, though twice during the first
attaque
and during each ejaculation
demission
took place, because of my
too violent
movements. Without a doubt, I have lost the habit of normal coitus, and the coitus equinus, which I carried out subsequently, actually gave me much greater pleasure. The reason for it is given by my Kama Sutra when it warns that for physical reasons it is advisable for the ‘elephant’ to take the ‘elephant cow’ in the same way the elephant does. After the coitus, the .02 P was sweet. Amidst lively chat, we walked home slowly, earlier than usual. In the evening, I went to Nagy Endre’s with Gyula and Sandor. The evening was beautiful and we had a wonderful time but I was nevertheless sad. I perceived that Olga did not feel as much sexual delight as heretofore. At first I accused her of having become indifferent towards me; then I realized I had become so towards her, and that this had led to her genuine and evident decreased sensitivity. This is all for the best, however. We haven’t yet tried this aspect of marriage. Yet it is the most important one. Now we will show each other what we are worth.
Woke at 9.00. Worked at the clinic until 11.00. 0.015 P then. Kalvin ter, rendezvous with Olga. Brilliant morning. A stroll along the bank of the Danube and downtown. Happy time spent together. The thought of our cooling toward each other no longer bothered me and with that, the cooling ceased to exist. Fever measurements. Reminiscences over events of two years ago. Slow preparation. A light meal. Olga + \ - Evening spent with Gyula Farkas, Sandor and E.B. I was honestly enthusiastic about the play. Sometimes I am taken by surprise by unpleasant thoughts, though without vasomotoric symptoms. I am getting old. Time is passing. Why can’t the love between Olga and I remain forever in honeymoon colours, as it has been up to now? The thought that other love must and will come is painful. For a moment, I would like to cry at the cruelty of nature. With Gy., we take E.B. home by coach, then drive ourselves home. I decided I would not contrive to reawaken love, but would let events take their own course. I would be happiest if love flared up again.

My poor, dear little Olga was so sweetly sad today. When she cries, I’d like to fall on my knees before her and smother her with kisses. She is sweet and disconsolate, she senses something is wrong. What should I do with this dear girl to make her very happy? If I had money now, a lot of money, a new situation or a trip would fix everything … This terribly deep and repeated expression of love is not right.

The ‘grande madame’ game of the last few days also hurt her. This is a love scene played by Olga, as the lady, and I, as the man paying court to her, at the expense of the absent husband (Pali). The lady defends herself at first, violently and disdainfully, but in the end she kisses frenziedly and sensually and admits she has long loved her attacker. Olga’s rendition of her role was astoundingly true to life. And yet it didn’t astonish me, or even hurt me. What must be done: