Perlefter: The Story of A Bourgeois

VI

Herr Perlefter had much to sigh about in those days. The demands of his wife and his engaged children escalated. Herr Perlefter revelled in complaining. It sickened him a bit that the family no longer had time to deal with him. From the delightful centre, in which he had lived year after year, highly visible, respected and pitied, he had slipped more and more to the periphery. His son, his daughter and his son-in-law lived like distinguished guests in his house, and there were days when lunch was served without waiting for Perlefter, even though he was only five minutes late. When he arrived the family said they had assumed he would be at the club that day.

The family took up irritating habits. The old order was no longer maintained. Once Henriette had left the house the maids changed quickly, and Perlefter could tolerate no new faces or new names. He called all the girls Henriette — whether their names were Anna, Klementine or Susanne. Usually their name was Anna.

One prepared for the ‘quiet weddings’. Invitation lists were assembled. The household trembled with joyful agitation. ‘We’re getting old!’ said Perlefter.

He feared age. He thought about his father who had lived to the age of ninety-two and become a revered burden to his children, even an obstacle. Perlefter did not wish to live that long. He would have completely given in to this miserable mood had his son’s party not compensated for all the trouble through which he had to suffer for the celebration. It was a magnificent party that Fredy threw, so much so that one could even forget about the poor chemist whom the inept Karoline — and it had taken long enough — had selected.

It was a magnificent party. Alexander Perlefter could not have wished for a better one. Fredy had married into one of the richest families: his father-in-law was the leather-goods manufacturer Kofritz, the same Kofritz from whom all the pocket mirrors, fashion accessories, sport jackets, dog muzzles, horse saddles and travel-manicure sets originated; the same Kofritz who produced the best leather armchairs in the world, wonderful seats and recliners that were customized to the size of their users, whether wide or thin, short, average height or tall. It was the very same Kofritz whose initials could be seen on the most distinguished luggage of the most distinguished travellers, whose crest was a lion pelt with the printed motto ‘Respect the Trademark’. Herr Leopold Kofritz was a self-made man, just like Herr Perlefter. But in the most important things these two wealthy men were different from each other. Above all, it was how they spent their money. If one could say that earning money is a talent, so one could say with even more certainty that spending money requires a certain character. In this regard, I should note that knowing both fathers well Perlefter had only talent, while Kofritz also had character.

Leopold Kofritz was known as a ‘generous businessman’. He did not seek to elicit compassion from those around him as Perlefter did but, rather, envy and admiration. He didn’t wish to be loved but feared. He didn’t want to win over his fellow men he wanted to amaze them. He was more brutal and less fearful in nature but by no means decisive. His hesitation always wore the mask of determination. When he still didn’t know what he wanted after a long time it seemed to others that he knew for certain. One said of him that from the first moment of his career he knew that he would produce the best leather goods in central Europe. He liked to tell of his beginnings, and he assured all those who believed him anyway that even as an errand boy in the steel industry he already had a great interest in suitcases. If one heard him speak this way one had to believe that the true merchants and manufacturers, those with very particular talents for their specific industries, were blessed by God Himself, just as was the case for sculptors, painters and musicians. One had no doubt that the young Friedrich Kofritz had an inner voice calling him to the great showcases of the leather industry. Fate had chosen him to produce leather goods under a trademark that was, in truth, not original but ingenious.

He was small in stature, tough, broad-shouldered, with a low forehead and thick, stiff black hair. Although he was of minimal body size he filled the room with his personality. He did not demand absolute silence as Perlefter did. One could even contradict him. He countered each argument with his healthy smile, his strong white teeth, his blood-filled red lips and his twinkling, squinting eyes. Although he was never actually right he upheld his side using the casualness of the mighty, who require no logic because they have power. Unlike Herr Perlefter Herr Kofritz made no small excuses. He said only ‘So! Do they?’ and in this question lay the entire scorn of an expert against a dilettante. There was no area in which Herr Kofritz had not achieved mastery. It seemed that he had been through everything. But he had no experience, nor did he require any experience to be heard and respected. He had the best and most indisputable tools to back up all his assertions: health and wealth. In the society circles frequented by Perlefter, Herr Kofritz was the richest. He maintained the best relationships. He was so powerful that he did not need to search the club to see in which room his chairs and sofas were. Yes, it was as if he was wielding his influence over the highest authorities in the country through his seating. Not even ministerial seating was treated with such importance.

Herr Kofritz was an impressive man in every way. He had much more money than Perlefter. He had a large house, a lot of servants, a business automobile and a luxury car, two handsome dogs; he went hunting and even knew how to shoot; he associated with high officials and radical monarchists, and he was himself not averse to the idea of a monarchy. He did not fear authorities as did Perlefter; rather, he loved them as one loved his peers. Herr Kofritz had ten titles and twenty honorary offices; his worth multiplied, his property was ever greater, his factories grew and his workers never went hungry. Although his father was only a moderately wealthy Russian Jew who had emigrated, Herr Kofritz had the demeanour, voice, inflexion, manners, confidence and ideology of a long-established, firmly planted conservative. Although he belonged to the Society to Combat Anti-Semitism he was also part of the Society Against Eastern European Jews. He chose the Central Party and declared himself, if one asked him, in favour of their political aims. But what he enjoyed most was amusing himself in the Conservatives’ Bowling Club, and he gave as many donations for national purposes as he did to the fund for war veterans of the Republic. He gave to both sides with the same determination. Nobody could reproach him for anything. He was one of those public benefactors who occupy an outstanding place on the list of professional scroungers and among charitable ladies. His name was in all the newspapers, in all stories about donations received. He once told Perlefter that he had even had an office specially built just for charitable purposes, which was tasked with managing public collections in the newspapers and handling applications. Herr Perlefter spoke some days of this office.

It seemed to me that Herr Kofritz was in agreement with his daughter’s choice. He wanted to bring Fredy ‘into the business’. First, Fredy had to become a capable horse rider. He rode every morning through all the avenues, so that anyone near by could locate him. Frau Perlefter allowed herself out of the house once to see her son ride. Fredy also liked to go out in the afternoon in his equestrian outfit. He wore a bright-white tie, and the family said that he looked like nobility. Herr Kofritz gave him a horse. On the saddle were the initials and the trademark. Fredy’s whip had no equal in the entire riding world. This whip was new and yet as worn as that of an old equestrian. The handle was an owl’s head with amber eyes. A wonderful leather loop wagged below it like a dog’s tail.

If one studied the sporting magazines and pictures one learned that every refined rider has a refined dog to follow along. Fredy obeyed this rule. To the great terror of his father he purchased a wolfhound that was quite tame but who Fredy claimed was quite wild and vicious. I have never in my life seen such a kind, gentle and trusting dog. But the entire family trembled over his terrible ferocity. The whole family was amazed at Fredy, who placed his hand between the animal’s sharp white teeth. Fredy seemed to be a lion tamer.

Perlefter said, ‘I don’t want any dogs in the house.’

So a kennel was built for this silent animal, who crept through life like a pious martyr; a kennel meant for the yard but which was usually left in the hallway, where it lay near the coat rack as if guarding this apparatus.

But if Perlefter had to enter the hall he said, ‘Fredy, take the dog outside!’

And just as one feared the dog one marvelled at the wife. Everything about this woman was wonderful. First of all her name — she was called Tilly. Fredy called her Till. Her hair was dark blonde. The family called it a ‘coppery sheen’. Tilly had long teeth and short lips; her exposed gums could be seen when she smiled: ‘A unique dentition, teeth like pearls.’ Tilly was slim with a clear tendency to be broad in the hips. The family prophesized eternal slenderness for her. When she smiled one praised her eternal cheerfulness. If she was melancholy one admired her mature seriousness. If she quarrelled with Fredy they were charmed by her temperament. When they flirted one spoke of her ‘maternal disposition’. Even Fredy’s sisters, with the exception of Karoline who was occupied with her chemist, were in love with Tilly. They now went to the tailor who sewed for Tilly. They let her give them the address of new dressmakers. Perlefter’s youngest daughter gave up all scientific and social goals. She returned to the tradition of her sex, worried no more about unmarried mothers, no longer read the society magazines that were delivered to the house every week and neglected all charity balls. Margarete was as pretty in those days as when she was eighteen years old.

The good influence of the Kofritz house on that of Perlefter was unmistakable. Henriette had to experience it! She had to experience how the porter-woman now gave the rancid butter to the cats instead of using it for Sunday’s biscuits. But Henriette was now a rich farmer’s wife, and her husband would not die.

The connection of the two houses was a beneficial relationship for each. It turned out that the manufacture of leather goods could benefit from the help of chemistry, and Karoline’s chemist obtained a position. This fact reconciled him with the world he had always treated sullenly and shyly. He was talkative, and a talent awoke in him to tell anecdotes. ‘The young fellow is a good businessman!’ said Perlefter. The chemist could also perform various exciting card tricks and other magic. Since he had not injured his hands any further he was quick, and before they were aware of it the copper coins were hidden in his coat sleeve.

Why should he not also enjoy the comforts of life? He had been poor for so long, and this poverty, which had so many disadvantages, compensates its favourites by bestowing upon them a certain earnestness, even if they don’t deserve it. Some people look important just because they are poor, and one is inclined to ascribe genius to a pauper when in reality it is only misery. The great unjustness of the world order tempts us to attribute greater value to the poor, even though poverty alone should be reason enough to love those afflicted by it. Karoline’s poor chemist (his name was Rudolf) looked, with his wounded hands, so genial that I thought he would, tomorrow or the next day, invent a new gunpowder. As soon as he slipped into his first good suit he developed a banal social talent, and a couple of weeks later he was employed in a leather factory. I imagine he was not bad. Perhaps he had actually invented a superfluous gunpowder.

The Kofritz family lived in a suburb where no dust could penetrate, in a district from which germs were banished. In front of the house was a small ornamental garden and in the back a large orchard in which the birds from the whole neighbourhood gathered to twitter. The terrace looked out over this great green garden, and Perlefter was invited one afternoon to take tea there. He complained of a headache. He could not tolerate the twittering of the birds. He praised his own house because it didn’t have a terrace and asked, half indignantly and half sympathetically, ‘What did Kofritz build a terrace for?’

There were a few little things that Herr Perlefter didn’t like. I think, if I may say so, that he sought to retaliate for having to endure singing the praises of Herr Kofritz for several hours a day in front of strangers and acquaintances. Therefore, Alexander Perlefter looked for flaws; the larger the better. That Kofritz spent so much money annoyed him. He criticized the fact that Fredy had to ride instead of ‘looking after business’. But no one except his poor wife now cared for his advice and his foul moods. He stayed ever longer in the club where he was appreciated because of his new family ties. He allowed himself to celebrate, and yet I believe that it brought him no joy when one appeared to celebrate him while actually celebrating Kofritz.

Tante Kempen came to get her commission.

‘This marriage was truly made in Heaven!’ said Perlefter and cast a glance at the ceiling.

Frau Perlefter cried, for she could not tolerate any quarrels, and she hurried to give Frau Kempen some costly pineapples. Tante Kempen ate pineapples as if this magnificent fruit was an ordinary apple. She was indignant. She even said, ‘This marriage is far from complete. It is first an engagement!’

At this point Perlefter grabbed his chequebook and paid Frau Kempen her commission. In exchange she had to forgo pineapples, and instead she got cherries, which at that time were just beginning to ripen.

Frau Kempen placed little value on pineapples. She was not offended; she wanted only to garner for herself an invitation from Kofritz, and she succeeded. Herr Kofritz had a poor niece who lived with him whom he wanted to marry off, and he could use Frau Kempen’s services.

Frau Kempen even knew an appropriate man, a young journalist who worked for a large publishing house and who was waiting for the death of the local editor to be able to get married. By luck the young man, named Hirsch, got himself into the film section of the newspaper and received a salary increase.

I met the young man at Perlefter’s. Herr Hirsch had a substantial physiognomy and, despite his youth, little hair. Frau Perlefter made the apt but somewhat general observation that the young man looked ‘like an actor’. He had short legs and a long thick torso. His rigid nose sprang out with imperious confidence.

This young man was considered by the family to be a ‘gifted writer’. He sometimes brought free tickets. Herr Perlefter thought highly of him, although he still earned little. Unfortunately, Julie Perlefter was once again bedridden. Even before she had a chance to recover her health the young Herr Hirsch had decided upon the Kofritz niece. It seemed to me that later, after Julie had recovered, Herr Hirsch was sorry that he had been so impatient. He had chosen for life and could not alter his decision.

He soon married and became head of the film section. Had he taken Perlefter’s daughter he would certainly have moved into the commercial section, to the columns in which the important writers develop an interest in the stock market.

Fräulein Julie was now expected to be healthy for a half a year, and Frau Kempen made use of this time. She knew a dentist without a practice who had a great desire to establish himself.

He was a handsome young man with girlish pink cheeks and bright-blue eyes and a short moustache. He liked to tell ‘jokes for gentlemen’ and amused Herr Perlefter away in a corner.

Enquiries were made into his past life, and it was learned that he had a mistress.

Herr Perlefter had nothing against a mistress, whom one could easily discard. Furthermore, he was sympathetic to the idea of a dentist in the family. How often did one or another family member have a toothache? The dentistry bills always accumulated at the end of the year.

In general Herr Perlefter was in favour of a practical son-in-law, as I have mentioned once before. Everything that was a danger, a pain or an evil should be immediately averted. He longed for a solicitor for his youngest daughter. By surrounding himself and his family with a protective force of experts he believed that he could not only protect his family but also save money.

Unfortunately, Julie’s health did not hold up as had been predicted six months earlier. She had an abscess, a hateful and downright proletarian illness and, moreover, on a place on her body about which one could not speak easily, a location one could divine based on the silence it inspired.

Consequently, Julie could not lie on her back, and thus the bed no longer gave her any comfort. She was operated upon twice. The family doctor came twice a day, and the surgeon came three times a week. When her bandages were removed Julie was emaciated, and as it was not yet summertime it was decided to seek a health resort for her.

Herr Perlefter, whose digestion was not very good, would enter a spa for stomach ailments. He had to drink water and exercise. In contrast, his wife needed complete tranquillity, for she was nervous.

Karoline and her chemist sought a serene place, such a location in which one could experience the most idyllic existence. Fredy was to go with the Kofritz family on a little trip through Europe and then stay in Switzerland where there were mountains for tourists and valleys for automobile tours.

The youngest daughter, Margarete, was to accompany her mother, although it would be very boring. Frau Perlefter could not travel alone. She knew nothing of the outside world. She did not understand train schedules, she was shy and even fearful, and it was impossible for her to sleep alone in a hotel room.

Thus remained Julie, who did not want to go with her mother since Margarete would be there. The abscess had interrupted the handsome dentist’s courtship, and he had to be given the opportunity to continue in a summer resort. That could spell trouble for Margarete, since she was more beautiful and healthier. It was predicted that even in a health resort Julie would seek a bed. In that case, the invited dentist would accompany Margarete, and one knew that the walk around the health resort was lonely and in the evenings so poorly lit that she might be seduced into imprudent activities.

There were therefore many difficult problems to resolve within the Perlefter household, and they even asked my advice, although I was a novice in such matters. None the less I suggested that the dentist only be invited when Julie had fully recovered her health. He was invited for a week, and in the meantime Margarete was sent to be with her father at the spa.

In mid-July the Perlefter family was scattered in various recreation spots, and I often went to visit them by train, bearing bunches of flowers.

I was asked to take a peek at the Perlefter house from time to time. I promised I would do so. I was told that the silver utensils were stored in the wood-burning stove in the salon.

The alpaca cups stood in the linen closet. On the floor lay the rug, rolled up. The lamps were covered with large white sacks. The windows were bare as in sick rooms; the curtains lay in the laundry room. It smelled of camphor to combat moths, and every evening the cook played the gramophone.

That summer I went to live with Henriette in the village, and I was pleased to see how capable she was. Her husband feared her. She slapped the servants, and she boxed the maids. All was tidy on this farm. The watchdog loved Henriette and stayed at her feet. Sometimes she slaughtered the chickens herself — with a sharp knife she struck a confident blow — and then I got a good soup. She didn’t let me get up before eight in the morning, and after sundown she told me that the farmer had at most a year to live.

Henriette was still pretty, at any rate it seemed that way to me, and I confess that I was not certain whether she also appeared so pretty to others. Back then I wanted to become a farmer, who sowed, ploughed and harvested and never wrote a word.

When I returned to the city there was a letter waiting for me. Fredy had married en route; the celebration would be held later. Karoline had also married the chemist. The dentist was on the verge of becoming engaged to Julie. Frau Perlefter had no more headaches. Herr Perlefter’s digestion was in perfect order. Margarete danced diligently and yet gained weight. Overall the weather was beautiful. It hardly rained that summer. Such a dry summer is apt to put the wealthy into a good mood.