“Dear Colleague,—Expect me Thursday. I am at last quitting this wretched city. I hope that the room you mentioned is still free. Will come at once to your address. With many hearty4 greetings,—Yours,
Otto Kreisler.”
He had dispatched this note before leaving to a Herr Ernst Volker.—For some time he stood on the Paris platform, ulster thrown back, smoking a lean cigar, with a straw stuck in it. He was glad to be in Paris. How busy the women, intent on travel, were! Groups of town-folk, not travellers, stood like people at a show. Each traveller was met by a phalanx of uninterested faces beyond the gangway.
His standing5 on the platform was a little ceremonious and military. He was taking his bearings.[73] Body and belongings6 with him were always moved about with certain strategy. At last, with racial menace, he had his things swept together, saying heavily:
“Un viagre!”
Ernst Volker was not in, but had left word he would be there after dinner. It was in a pension. He rented a studio as well in the garden behind. The house was rather like a French Public Baths, two-storied, of a dirty purple colour. Kreisler looked up at it and felt that a very public sort of people must live there, looking big and idle in their rooms and constantly catching7 the eye of the stranger on the pavement. He was led to the studio in rear of the house, and asked to wait.
He turned round several long canvases and was astonished to find dashing ladies in large hats before him.
“Ha ha! Well, I’m damned! Bravo, Ernst!” he exploded in his dull solitude8, extremely amused.
Volker had not done this in Rome.—Even there he had given indications of latent virtuosity9, but had been curbed10 by classic presences. Since arriving in Paris he had blossomed prodigiously11. He dealt out a vulgar vitality12 by the peck to each sitter, and they forgave him for making them comparatively “ugly.” He flung a man or woman on to nine feet of canvas and pummelled them on it for a couple of hours, until they promised to remain there or were incapable13 of moving, so to speak. He had never been able to treat people like this in any other way of life, and was grateful to painting for the experience. He always appeared to feel he would be expected to apologize for his brutal14 behaviour as an artist, and was determined15 not to do so.
A half-hour later, on his return, the servant told him somebody was waiting in the studio. With face not exhibiting joyful16 surprise, but rather the collected look of a man of business arriving at his office, he walked out quickly across the garden.
[74]
When he saw Kreisler the business look disappeared. Nothing of his private self remained for the moment, all engulfed17 in his friend’s personality.
“But, Ernst! What beautiful pictures! What pleasant company you left me to wait amongst!—How are you? I am glad to see you again!”
“Had a good journey? Your letter amused me!—So Rome became too hot?”
“A little! My dear chap, it was eine ganz verdammte klemme! In this last scuffle I lost—but I lost!—half the clothes off my back! But chiefly Italian clothes; that is fortunate!”
“Why didn’t you write?”
“Oh, it wasn’t serious enough to call for help.” He dismissed the out-of-date notion at once!—“This is a nice place you’ve got.”—Kreisler looked round as though measuring it. He noticed Volker’s discomfort18. He felt he was examining something more intimate than the public aspect of a dwelling19. It was as though his friend were expecting a wife, whom Kreisler had not met, to turn up suddenly.
“Have you dined?—I waited until eight. Have you…?”
“I should like something to eat. Can we get anything here?”
“I’m afraid not.—It’s rather late for this neighbourhood. Let’s take these things to your room—on the way—and go to the Grands Boulevards.”
They stayed till the small hours of the morning, in the midst of “Paris by Night” of the German bourgeois20 imagination, drinking champagne21 and toasting the creditors22 Kreisler had left behind in Rome.
Kreisler, measured by chairs or doors, was of immoderate physical humanity. He was of that select section, corporally, that exceed the mean. His long round thighs23 stuck out like poles. This large body lounged and poised24 beside Volker in massive control and over-reaching of civilized25 matter. It was in Rome or in Paris. It had an air of possession everywhere. Volker was stranger in Paris than his[75] companion, who had only just arrived. He felt a little raw and uncomfortable, almost a tourist. He was being shown “Paris by Night”; almost literally26, for his inclinations27 had not taken him much to that side of the town.
Objects—cocottes, newsvendors, waiters—flowed through Kreisler’s brain without trouble or surprise. His heavy eyes were big gates of a self-centred city. It was just a procession. There was no trade in the town.
He was a property of Nature, or a favourite slave, untidy and aloof28. Kreisler so real and at home was like a ghost sitting there beside him, for Ernst Volker. He had not had the time to solidify29 yet in Paris by all rights, and yet was so solid and accustomed at once. This body was in Paris now!—with an heroic freedom.
Volker began looking for himself. He was only made of cheap thin stuff. He picked up the pieces quietly. This large rusty30 machine of a man smashed him up like an egg-shell at every meeting. His shell grew quickly again, but never got hard enough.
He was glad to see him again! Kreisler was a good fellow.—Despite himself Ernst Volker was fidgety at the lateness of the hour. The next day Fr?ulein Bodenaar, who was sitting for him, was due at 9.30. But the first night of seeing his friend again—He drank rather more than usual, and became silent, thinking of his Westphalian home and his sister who was not very well. She had had a bicycle accident, and had received a considerable shock. He might spend the summer with her and his mother at Berck-sur-Mer or Calais. He would have gone home for a week or so now, only an aunt he did not like was staying there.
“Well, let’s get back!” said Kreisler, rather thoughtful, too, at all the life he had seen.
点击收听单词发音
1 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
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2 creditor | |
n.债仅人,债主,贷方 | |
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3 bad-tempered | |
adj.脾气坏的 | |
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4 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
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5 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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6 belongings | |
n.私人物品,私人财物 | |
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7 catching | |
adj.易传染的,有魅力的,迷人的,接住 | |
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8 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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9 virtuosity | |
n.精湛技巧 | |
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10 curbed | |
v.限制,克制,抑制( curb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11 prodigiously | |
adv.异常地,惊人地,巨大地 | |
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12 vitality | |
n.活力,生命力,效力 | |
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13 incapable | |
adj.无能力的,不能做某事的 | |
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14 brutal | |
adj.残忍的,野蛮的,不讲理的 | |
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15 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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16 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
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17 engulfed | |
v.吞没,包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18 discomfort | |
n.不舒服,不安,难过,困难,不方便 | |
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19 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
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20 bourgeois | |
adj./n.追求物质享受的(人);中产阶级分子 | |
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21 champagne | |
n.香槟酒;微黄色 | |
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22 creditors | |
n.债权人,债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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23 thighs | |
n.股,大腿( thigh的名词复数 );食用的鸡(等的)腿 | |
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24 poised | |
a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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25 civilized | |
a.有教养的,文雅的 | |
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26 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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27 inclinations | |
倾向( inclination的名词复数 ); 倾斜; 爱好; 斜坡 | |
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28 aloof | |
adj.远离的;冷淡的,漠不关心的 | |
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29 solidify | |
v.(使)凝固,(使)固化,(使)团结 | |
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30 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
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