Berlin Alexanderplatz
The way she perches on his lap, sticks a cigarette in her bill that she’s sneaked out of his weskit, looks meltingly in his eye, rubs her earlobes softly against his, tootles: ‘Do you know what homesickness is? Homesickness that breaks your heart? Everything around feels so cold and empty.’ She trills, stretches out on the chaise. She smokes, strokes his hair, trills, laughs.
The sweat on his forehead! The fear again! And suddenly his brain gives another lurch. Boom, bells, get up, five-thirty, six o’clock unlocked, boom boom, a quick brush of the jacket in case the old man holds inspection, but not today. I’m being released soon. Psst, you, last night someone did a runner, Klose, the rope’s still dangling over the wall, they’re after him with dogs. He groans, his head lifts, he sees the girl, her chin, her throat. How will I ever get out of here. They won’t let me out. I’m still not out. She blows blue smoke rings in his face, titters: ‘Ooh, you, I’ll pour you a Mampe for thirty pfennigs.’ He lies there, full-length: ‘What do I want with a Mampe? I’m all gone. I did time in Tegel, for what. First I was with the Prussians in the trenches and then in the big house in Tegel. I’m not a human being any more.’ ‘Oh come. You’re not about to start crying on me, are you. Come on, big fella, open wide, a big fella needs a drink. Here is where we have fun, we enjoy ourselves, we laugh, from morning till night.’ ‘And that’s what they give me shit for. They might as well have cut my throat, the sons of bitches. They might as well have thrown my body out on the dump as well.’ ‘Come on, big fella, another Mampe. If it’s your eyes, go to Mampe, let Mampe light the way for you.’
‘The girls chased after you like sheep, and you didn’t so much as spit at them, and then suddenly you’re flat on your face.’ She picks up another one of his cigarettes which are tumbling out on the floor: ‘Yes, you’d better go to the nice policeman and tell him.’ ‘I’m going.’ He looks for his braces. And doesn’t say another word, and doesn’t look at the girl, slobberlips, who’s smoking and smiles and looks at him, quickly scuffs a few more of his cigarettes under the chaise with her foot. And he grabs his hat, and down the stairs, takes the 68 to Alexanderplatz and sits and broods over a beer in a bar.
Testifortan, patent no. 365695, potency remedy endorsed by Drs Magnus Hirschfeld and Bernhard Schapiro of the Institute for Sexual Science, Berlin. The principal causes for impotence are A. insufficient charge through malfunctioning of the glands; B. excessive resistance by exaggerated mental blocks, fatiguing of the erective centre. If the impotent man tries again, each case has to be handled individually. A rest can often be helpful.
And he eats his bellyful and gets a good night’s sleep, and the next day on the street he thinks: I fancy this one and I fancy that one, but he doesn’t proposition either. And the dummy in the shop window, the curves on that, she’d suit me, but I’m not propositioning her either. And he sits in the bar and looks no one in the face and eats his fill and drinks. From now on I’ll do nuffink all day but eat and drink and sleep, and life will be over for me. Over, over.
Victory all along the line! Franz Biberkopf buys a veal escalope
And now it’s Wednesday, the third day, and he gets into his coat. Who’s to blame for everything? Ida, always Ida. Who else. I broke her fucking ribs, that’s why they put me in clink. Now she’s got what she wanted, she’s dead, and I’m standing there. And wailing and running down the freezing streets. Where to? Where they used to live, at her sister’s. Down Invalidenstrasse, into Ackerstrasse, whish into the house, back courtyard. No prison, no conversation with any Jews on Dragonerstrasse. The bitch is to blame, where is she. Saw nothing, noticed nothing on the way, just went there. The odd facial twitch, the odd twitch finger, that’s where we’ll go, rumbly bumbly kieker di nell, rumbly bumbly kieker di nell, rumbly bumbly.
Ding-dong. ‘Who is it?’ ‘Me.’ ‘Who?’ ‘Open up, woman.’ ‘My God, Franz, it’s you.’ ‘Open the door.’ Rumbly bumbly kieker di nell. Rumbly. Bit of thread on my tongue, spit it out. He’s standing in the corridor, she locks the door after him. ‘What are you doing here. What if someone had seen you on the steps.’ ‘Doesn’t matter. Let them. G’morning.’ Hangs a left into the parlour. Rumbly bumbly. That thread on his tongue, can’t seem to catch it. He picks at it with his finger. But it’s nothing, just a stupid feeling on the tip of his tongue. So there’s the parlour again, the horsehair sofa, the Kaiser on the wall, a Frenchie in scarlet troos is just handing his sword to him. Surrender bender. ‘What are you doing here, Franz? You must be mad.’ ‘I’ll sit down then, shall I.’ I surrender, the Kaiser takes his sword, then the Kaiser has to give him back his sword, that’s the way of the world. ‘If you don’t go, I’ll scream the place down.’ ‘Why would you do that?’ Rumbly bumbly, I’ve come such a long way, here I am, here I stay. ‘Did they let you out already then?’ ‘Yes, I’m done.’
He stares at her and then he gets up: ‘They let me go, so I’m here. They let me out all right.’ He wants to tell her how, but he chews on his bit of thread, the trumpet is broken, it’s over, and he’s shaking and he can’t cry, he stares at her hand. ‘What is it then, what’s the matter?’
There are mountains that have stood for thousands of years, and armies with artillery have passed over them, there are islands with people on them, jam-packed, all of them strong, solid businesses, banks, enterprises, dance, boom, import, export, social questions, and one day it starts to go: rrrrr, rrrrr, not from the battleship, but of its own – from below. The earth cracks, nightingale, nightingale, how beautifully you sang, the ships fly up to the sky, the birds fall down to the ground. ‘Franz, I’ll scream, let go of me. Karl will be back soon, he will be back any moment. You began like that with Ida too.’
What’s the price of a woman between friends? The London divorce courts granted Captain Bacon’s petition for divorce on the grounds of his wife’s adultery with his colleague, Captain Furber, and awarded him damages of 750 pounds. The captain doesn’t seem to have rated his faithless wife, who will go on to marry her lover, very highly.
Oh, there are mountains that have lain there quietly for thousands of years, and armies with artillery and elephants have passed over them, what can you do when they suddenly start to go: rrrrr rrrumm. Let’s not give an opinion on it, let’s leave it be. Minna can’t get her hand back, and his eyes are staring into hers. A man’s face is governed by rails, now there’s a train crossing it, look at the smoke, see it go, it’s the Berlin to Hamburg/Altona express, leaving 18.05 arriving 21.35, three and a half hours, there’s nothing to be done about it, a man’s arms are made of iron, iron. I’ll cry for help. She cried. She was already lying on the carpet. His stubbled cheeks against hers, his mouth sucks at hers, she turns away. ‘Franz, oh my god, have pity, Franz.’ And – she saw rightly.
Now she knows, she is Ida’s sister, he sometimes used to look at Ida like that. He is holding Ida in his arms, that’s why his eyes are shut and he’s looking happy. And there isn’t any terrible fight between them and the hanging around, there isn’t the prison! It’s Treptow, Eden Gardens with jewelled fireworks, where he met her and took her home, the little seamstress, she had won a vase by throwing dice for it, the first time he kissed her was in the passage with the keys in her hand, she was up on tiptoe, she was wearing canvas shoes, she dropped the keys, and then he couldn’t leave off her after that. That’s good old Franz Biberkopf.
And now he can smell her again, it’s the same skin, the whiff makes him dizzy, what’s happening. And she, the sister, how strange she feels. The feeling is communicated from his face, from his quietly lying there, to her, she has to follow it, she fights it, but it passes into her, her face slackens, her arms are unable to push him away any more, her mouth is helpless. The man doesn’t say anything, she leaves him him him her mouth, she’s softening as in a warm bath, do with me what you please, she dissolves like water, it’s all right, come to me, I know everything, I want you too.
Magical quiver. The goldfish flit in the pond. The room flashes, there is no Ack
erstrasse, no building, no gravity or centrifugal force. It’s all disappeared, sunk, wiped out: the refraction of the red rays in the sun’s force field, kinetic gas theory, the conversion of heat into energy, electrical waves, induction phenomena, the relative densities of metals, liquids, non-metallic fixed bodies.
She lay on the floor, throwing herself back and forth. He laughed and stretched: ‘You can kill me if you like, I’ll keep still if you’ve got the strength.’ ‘You deserve it.’ He scrambled up, laughing and spinning with delight, happiness, bliss. How the trumpets were blowing and tooting, huzzah hussars. Franz is back! Franz has been freed! Biberkopf is at large! He had pulled up his trousers, was hopping from one foot to the other. She sat down on a chair, wanted to cry: ‘I’m telling my husband, I’m telling Karl, they should have given you another four years on top of what you had.’ ‘Tell him, Minna, be sure to tell him.’ ‘I will too, I’m going to call the police.’ ‘Minna, Minna, sweetheart, do, I’m so happy, I’m a human being again.’ ‘Christ, mad is what you are, they really messed with your head in Tegel.’ ‘You wouldn’t have anything to drink, would you, like a pot of coffee or something.’ ‘And who’s going to pay for my apron, look at it, it’s nothing better than a rag now.’ ‘Franz will take care of it, leave it to Franz! Franz is back among the living!’ ‘You’d better take your hat and get out in case he sees you. You’ve giv me a black eye. And don’t come back.’ ‘Goodbye, Minna.’
But he was back the next morning, with a small parcel. She didn’t want to let him in, but he had his foot jammed in the door. She hissed at him through the crack: ‘Go your ways, man, I told you!’ ‘Minna, it’s just the aprons.’ ‘What aprons.’ ‘You’re to choose the ones you like.’ ‘You can keep your stolen goods.’ ‘Nothing’s stolen. Open up.’ ‘God, the neighbours will see you, go away.’ ‘Then open the door, Minna.’
She opened up, he dropped the parcel in the parlour, and as she didn’t want to go in the parlour herself, with the broom-handle in her hand, pranced about in there all alone. ‘I’m so happy, Minna. I’ve been happy all day long. I dreamt about you.’
He untied the parcel on the table, she came closer, felt the material, chose three aprons, but she remained firm when he took her hand. He packed up, she standing there broom in hand, pushing: ‘All right then, away with you.’ He waved to her in the doorway: ‘Goodbye, Minnie.’ She rammed the door shut with the broom-handle.
A week later he was back on her doorstep: ‘I just wanted to check up on your eye.’ ‘It’s fine, thank you, there’s nothing for you here.’ He had bulked up, was wearing a blue winter coat, a brown stiff derby: ‘I just wanted you to see me, what I look like now.’ ‘I’m not interested.’ ‘Well, won’t you at least give me a cup of coffee.’ Then there was a sound of footfall on the steps, a child’s ball bounced down, the woman, alarmed, opened the door and pulled him in. ‘You standing there, that was the Lumkes, there, now go.’ ‘I just want a cup of coffee. You’ll have one for me, won’t you.’ ‘You don’t need me for that. You’ve probably got someone anyway, from the look of you.’ ‘Cup of coffee.’ ‘You really know how to make someone unhappy.’
And as she stood by the coat stand in the corridor and he looked at her beseechingly from the kitchen door, she pulled up her pretty new apron, shook her head and began to cry: ‘You make me unhappy, so you do.’ ‘What’s got into you.’ ‘Karl didn’t believe my story about the black eye. How could I bump into the cupboard like that. He wanted me to show him. Even if you can get a black eye from the cupboard if you leave the door open. He can try if he likes. But he won’t believe me, and I don’t know why.’ ‘I don’t either, Minna.’ ‘It’s because I’ve got some marks here, on my neck. I didn’t even know I had em. What can I say when he shows em to me, there they are in the mirror, and I’ve no idea where they came from.’ ‘Oh, I don’t know, you might have scratched yourself, you might have had an itch. Don’t let the fellow bully you around. I’d have knocked some sense into him.’ ‘And you keep coming round. And the Lumkes will have seen you, I bet.’ ‘Well, they’re not to give themselves airs.’ ‘Why don’t you go away, Franz, and not come back, you just make me unhappy.’ ‘Did he ask about the aprons too?’ ‘I was always going to buy myself some new aprons.’ ‘Well, then I’ll go, Minna.’
He reached round her throat, she let him. After a while, when he didn’t let go, and wasn’t pressing, she realized he was stroking her, and looked up in astonishment: ‘Now get along with you, Franz.’ He pulled her gently in the direction of the parlour, she resisted, but went with him step by step: ‘Franz, is this going to start again?’ ‘Whatever is the matter, I just want to sit in your parlour.’
They sat peaceably on the sofa for a while, side by side, talking. Then he left, alone. She saw him to the door. ‘Don’t come back, Franz,’ she cried and pressed her head against his shoulder. ‘Goddamnit, Minna, the things you do to a man. Why shouldn’t I come back? Well, then I won’t.’ She was holding his hand in hers: ‘No, Franz, don’t.’ Then she opened the door, still holding his hand, and she gave it a hard squeeze. She was still holding it when he was standing outside. Then she let go, and quickly and quietly pushed the door shut. He ordered a couple of large veal escalopes to be sent up.
In which Franz swears to all the world and himself, to remain decent in Berlin, money or not
Now, he was nicely set up – he had flogged off his old bits and pieces, and he had a few pennies left over from Tegel, his landlady and his friend Mack loaned him some more – when he got a proper shock, though later it turned out to be a false alarm. One otherwise half-decent morning found a piece of yellow bumf on his table, official, printed and in type.
To reply to this communication, write to the President of Police, Department 5, ref. so and so, using the ref. no. On the basis of documents in my possession you have been punished for threatening behaviour, physical injury and grievous bodily harm resulting in death, and are therefore to be viewed as a risk to public order and decency. Consequently, I have decreed, on the basis of the powers vested in me by the laws of 31 December 1842, Paragraph 2, and the law governing freedom of movement of 1 November 1867, Paragraph 3, in addition to the laws of 12 June 1889 and 13 June 1900, to have you excluded for reasons of public order from Berlin, Charlottenburg, Neukölln, Berlin-Schöneberg, Wilmersdorf, Lichtenberg, Stralau and the administrative districts of Berlin-Friedenau, Schmargendorf, Tempelhof, Britz, Treptow, Reinickendorf, Weissensee, Pankow and Berlin-Tegel. You are hereby ordered to quit the exclusion zone within a fortnight. If you remain within the zone, or have subsequently returned to it you will be charged under Paragraph 132 section 2 of the general administrative law of 30 July Q II E 1883 under pain of a 100-mark fine for a first offence, or in the event of inability to pay, a custodial sentence of 10 days. At the same time I am informing you that if you take up residence in any of the following outlying districts, Potsdam, Spandau, Friedrichsfelde, Karlshorst, Friedrichshagen, Oberschöneweide and Wuhlheide, Fichtenau, Rahnsdorf, Carow, Buch, Frohnau, Cöpenick, Lankwitz, Steglitz, Zehlendorf, Teltow, Dahlem, Wannsee, Klein-Glienicke, Nowawes, Neuendorf, Eiche, Bornim or Bornstedt, you may expect your exclusion from the aforementioned places. I. Ve Form No. 968 a.
Made a mighty impression on him. But there was a good place by the S-Bahn, Grunerstrasse, near the Alex, prisoners’ welfare organization. They take a look at Franz, ask him a couple questions, sign this: Herr Franz Biberkopf has placed himself under our supervision, we will check whether you are working, and you are required to present yourself every month. Done, taken care of, everything in clover.
Forgotten the panic, forgotten Tegel and the red wall and the groaning and whatever else – away with the damage, we’re beginning a new life, the old one is done and dusted, Franz Biberkopf is back, and the Prussians are merry and shout hurray.
•
Then for four weeks he filled his belly with meat and potatoes and beer, and went back once to thank the Jews on Dragonerstrasse. Nahum and
Eliser were quarrelling as per usual. They didn’t recognize him as he walked in in his glad rags, plump and reeking of cognac, and respectfully, hat in front of his face, asked in a shy whisper whether the old gentleman’s grandchildren were still unwell. They asked him in the corner bar, where he treated them, what business he was in. ‘Business. I’m not in any business. With our sort, things go by themselves.’ ‘Then where have you got money from?’ ‘Left over from before, savings, money I put by.’ He jabbed Nahum in the ribs, flared his nostrils, made sly, knowing eyes: ‘You remember the story of old Zannovich. Great guy. He was a fine gentleman, then they put him to death. All that stuff you know about. I’d like to be a prince like that, and study. No, our sort don’t study. Maybe I’ll get hitched.’ ‘Good luck to you.’ ‘Then you’ll be invited, there’ll be plenty to eat, and, you know, drink.’
Nahum, the redhead, scratching his chin, surveyed him: ‘Perhaps you’d like another story. A man once owned a ball, you know, a children’s ball, not rubber, but celluloid, transparent, with little lead balls inside it. For children to rattle around and throw. Then the man aimed the ball and threw it, and he thought: there are lead balls in it, that way I can throw it, and the ball won’t run on, it’ll stop where it lands. But when he threw the ball, it didn’t go where he wanted it to go, it took a bounce, and then it rolled on a bit, a couple of handbreadths further.’ ‘Leave him alone with your stories, Nahum. The man’s not interested.’ The plump fellow: ‘What happened with the ball, and why are you arguing again? Take a look at the pair of them, landlord, they’ve been quarrelling ever since I’ve known them.’ ‘You have to take people as they are. Quarrelling is good for the liver.’ The redhead: ‘I’ll tell you, I saw you on the street and in the courtyard, and I heard you sing. You sing very beautifully. You are a good man. But don’t be so wild. Be gentle and patient on this earth. I know what you’re like inside, and what God intends for you. The ball, you see, it won’t go the way you throw it and the way you want it to go, it flies a little further, maybe quite a bit further, you know, and a little bit to the side.’