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Back The Woman on the Stairs Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Bernhard Schlink
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. Part Two
  33. 1
  34. 2
  35. 3
  36. 4
  37. 5
  38. 6
  39. 7
  40. 8
  41. 9
  42. 10
  43. 11
  44. 12
  45. 13
  46. 14
  47. 15
  48. 16
  49. 17
  50. 18
  51. 19
  52. 20
  53. 21
  54. 22
  55. 23
  56. 24
  57. 25
  58. Part Three
  59. 1
  60. 2
  61. 3
  62. 4
  63. 5
  64. 6
  65. 7
  66. 8
  67. 9
  68. 10
  69. 11
  70. 12
  71. 13
  72. 14
  73. 15
  74. 16
  75. 17
  76. 18
  77. 19
  78. 20
  79. 21
  80. 22
  81. Author’s Note
  82. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

“I know. You didn’t set out to make art for which there was no alternative. But you couldn’t make anything else: nobody can, with the world and art being what they are: reliable, manageable, without alternative. One can put on a gag or trigger a scandal. But that too is just always same old, same old.”

“What will finally melt the lead?”

“I don’t know. A nuclear war? A meteor strike? Some other catastrophe that brings the end of the world as we know it? But I don’t find the world leaden. I like it how it is, and you like it too. It is how it always was before communism and fascism tore everything apart. There are the rich, and everybody else; the rich take care of things and everybody else makes do.”

“Take care?”

Gundlach laughed. “Take care that nothing changes.”

I looked at Irene and started to worry. The effects of the cocaine were wearing off. Her face betrayed her exhaustion and despair as the illness regained its grip. She saw my gaze, her expression turned defiant, and she stood up. With heavy legs she walked to the stairs, then upstairs.

“I remember the women,” Schwind was back in the hopes and dreams of the late sixties and early seventies. “The beautiful, clever women from good backgrounds who went over to the left out of political conviction, and because they could sense it was where the avant-garde was, where life was exciting. Before I met Irene with you, I saw her at a debate at the university. All she did was sit and listen, but the way she sat and listened – it was clear that this was where the future was being negotiated.”

“The future?” Gundlach asked scornfully.

The pilot came, we cleared the table, brought out dessert, then washed up. I kept my ear to the stairs all the while. Once we were finished in the kitchen, the pilot took a bottle of red wine and left. I watched him go down to the jetty, sit down, and drink and smoke. His cigarette glowed in the dark.

24

Then Irene came down the stairs. Had she been waiting for the dark? When I wanted to take two candles out onto the balcony, she signalled that one was enough.

I hadn’t followed Gundlach and Schwind’s conversation. It had briefly grown loud, then quieted again. As Irene sat down, Gundlach said: “You still haven’t told us what you did in those days.”