Chapters (42)
‘How pathetic people really are. You see a man who looks young and healthy, even high-spirited, and everything seems fine. And suddenly an unconscious look, a gesture, betrays his hidden wounds more clearly than any long confession. There isn’t enough pity in the world. Not the crude, officious kind, but the mute, modest compassion that flows straight from one soul to another, without a word or even a gesture, and which alone is capable of giving comfort and encouragement … Perhaps this pity will save the world …’
Gurdweill, who thought he had been talking to himself, was surprised to hear Thea’s voice.
‘The wishful thinking of the weak! They themselves are pitiful and preach pity to the rest of the world! But the world doesn’t need pity. The world belongs to the brave and the only hope for the weak is to hurry up and get out of it as quickly as possible! There’s no need to prolong their agony, or to worry about saving the world either. The world can look after itself — it will go on existing according to its own fixed, immutable laws, thanks to the strong, the elect, who operate according to the same iron laws! Unknowingly, not of their own volition, impelled by an imperative inner force. Thanks to them, because of them, the world exists!’
‘Nietzsche said the same thing and he was wrong. Since the world is composed mainly of the weak — and the heroes themselves are weak too — it obviously needs them! And anyway, who are we to say who’s needed here and who isn’t? How can we know the hidden intention behind things? Everything in the world is self-evidently needed and necessary … Philosophical systems are only hypotheses, and there is always room for counter-hypotheses to contradict the old ones. The fact that someone or something exists is in itself its justification for existing, and it doesn’t need special licence from anyone.’
‘In any case,’ said Thea, ‘as far as I’m concerned, I can do without pity. I don’t need it! And I don’t pity any creature in the world either. It’s one feeling I lack completely, thank God!’
‘That’s your nature, and there’s room for a nature like yours too … And who knows if you’re not in need of pity yourself …’
At these words Thea burst into loud, abandoned laughter in the middle of Praterstrasse, giving rise to curious looks from a number of passers-by.
As soon as they arrived home they got undressed and went to bed. Gurdweill had a strange dream, in which Perczik wanted to eat Ulrich’s liver, which looked like one of Dr Kreindel’s cigars, and Ulrich cried and pleaded until Thea came and announced that Perczik would have to pay Ulrich two thousand dollars and also provide him with a new liver, from an American factory …
PART FOUR
PART FOUR
The Baby
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