
Homo Sapiens by Stanislaw Przybyszewski and translated by Joe E Bandel
But then difficulties arose in the further comparison. Children are pure and innocent; women are malicious, deceitful, coquettish, the pure handmaidens of the devil.
So the comparison only held formally.” Falk grew more animated.
“But one day—it was early in the morning again, and in such cases, I usually had to escort Iltis home.
Suddenly, Iltis stops at a bridge and loses himself completely in the sight of swans emerging in a great flock from under the bridge.
Iltis gets into a fantastic frenzy. ‘Erik, do you see?’
‘Yes, I see.’
‘What do you see?’ ‘Swans.’
‘Isn’t that so?’
‘Yes…’
Iltis turns nervously.
At that moment, the roll-seller of Jericho comes by…” Falk laughed nervously.
“Wonderful, this roll-seller of Jericho! You don’t know the splendid Lilienkron?”
“No.” Isa looked at Falk in surprise.
“Well, Lilienkron wrote a poem: the Crucifixion—no: ‘Rabbi Jeshua.’ In the procession…
‘But what about Iltis?’
‘Yes, right, right… So, in the procession moving toward Golgotha, there are the lawyers, the lieutenants, the pickpockets, naturally also the psychologists and the representatives of the experimental novel, and finally the roll-seller of Jericho.
‘But there weren’t any roll-sellers back then,’ one of his friends remarked.
Lilienkron got very agitated. The roll-seller was the best part of the poem! He wrote the whole poem just for the roll-seller!”
She laughed. Yes, she laughed like a comrade. There was something of comradely sincerity in her laugh. He wanted to always see her like this; then they could be friends, nothing more.
“When the roll-seller of Jericho passes by, Iltis grabs a handful of rolls from her basket and throws them onto the water.
Now he’s happy. ‘Do you see?’
‘Yes, I see.’
‘What do you see?’ ‘Swans.’
‘Ridiculous. I see that too. But the other thing, what I grasp with my intuition, you don’t see: swans and children are on the same level. Children don’t eat crusts, and neither do swans.’
Isa laughed somewhat forcedly.
Falk grew very nervous. That was ridiculous! How could he think he could entertain her with these childish stories? It was too absurd.
“Was he serious?” Now he burst out.
“No, not a jot of truth in the whole story. I invented it very badly, but when I started telling it, I thought something better would come out… Yes, it’s infinitely stupid and ridiculous… You mustn’t hold it against me if I say it outright, but I told the story only so you’d enjoy my company… I have this urge to keep you from being bored with me, I want to be very entertaining, and that’s why I tell it so clumsily and come up with idiotic stories.”
Isa became very embarrassed.
“You don’t hold it against me, do you?” “No.”
It grew dark; an awkward pause followed. In Falk’s mind, things began to blur. A thousand feelings and thoughts crossed and paralyzed each other.
“Was Mikita with you today?” He asked just to ask, but was surprised why he asked.
“Yes, he was here.”
“He was so strange today, what was wrong with him?”
“He’s probably a bit nervous. The exhibition is giving him a lot of headaches.”
“He still seems the same old Mikita. We loved each other immensely, but sometimes it got a bit heavy. In one hour, he could have a hundred different moods.”
Isa searched for a new topic. Falk noticed it in a nervous hand gesture.
“And I’ll be your escort at the wedding?” “Yes, of course.” She looked at him firmly.
Why so firmly? A vague smile played around his mouth.
Isa felt very uncomfortable. What did that smile mean?
“Yes, in three weeks, you’ll have the honor of being my wedding escort.”
“I’m delighted.” Falk smiled politely. Another pause followed.
She stood up.
“I have to show you something that will interest you.” Falk looked closely at the Japanese vase.
“Absolutely wonderful! Remarkable artists, the Japanese! They see things like in a snapshot photograph. Don’t they? They must perceive things that don’t enter our consciousness. In a thousandth of a second, you understand?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean they’re able to capture an impression that’s too brief for our consciousness, or, as the professional psychologists so elegantly put it: the physiological time is too short for such an impression to enter consciousness…”
He held the vase in his hands and looked at Isa firmly.
“Sometimes I manage it too, though rarely. But today, for example, when I saw you in the corridor. A look of joy passed over your face and vanished in an instant.”
“Oh? You saw that?” she asked mockingly.
“Yes; it was like a momentary flash of magnesium light, but I saw it. Didn’t you? You were happy when I came, and I was so infinitely happy when I saw that.”
It sounded so honest, so heartfelt, what he said. She felt herself blush.
“Now we should probably go,” she said.
“No, let’s wait a bit; it’s still too early… And you know, I may be a bit too open, but I have to tell you that I feel so infinitely comfortable here. I’ve never, no—nowhere have I felt anything like this.”
Twilight could bring people strangely close.
“Everything is so strange. It’s strange that Mikita is my friend, that you’re his fiancée; strange is the feeling, as if I’ve known you for a thousand years…”
Isa stood up and lit the lamp.
Light creates distance. Yes, she wanted to create distance. “It’s a pity that Mikita can only come later.”
“Yes, that’s a great pity.” He was irritated. Now he had to think of Mikita again. Ridiculous that Mikita should have an exclusive monopoly on a person. Well, there was nothing to be done about it.
He looked at his watch.
“Now it’s time. Now we have to go.”
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