Chapter VI
From the age of twelve to nineteen, this period of change is the most decisive period of change for a child, which is my transition from early childhood to adulthood.
I have recounted how my father's death had caused me shortly after I turned eighteen, and of my incomparable interest in Goethe's life and works, but whatever the intrinsic reasons that prompted me to take such a long interest in Goethe gradually disappeared from its original power, and I slowly recovered from the loneliness at The mercy of Goethe.
When I was in middle school, I had a friend named David E, who was a year older than me, was a happy, easy-going guy, and was very popular among boys and girls. When I was becoming extremely introverted, it was when he stepped into the social world; he was a realist and I was an idealistic plus daydreamer. His intelligence, versatility and "sociability" contrasted with my shyness and sluggishness. He had decided to join his father's furniture business by then, and we rarely had the chance to see each other again after we passed our graduation exams.
Just as I was hesitating to re-enter the social world, I ran into him on the street and we walked along. Strolling along Pratt's boulevards, we talk about the past of the old school days and future plans. Suddenly, he stopped and said, "Ah! Two very beautiful girls asked about your recent situation the day before yesterday, and what are you doing now? He went on to tell me that he had met Mary and Ella. His sister was Mary's classmate and often visited them in the village of the Yu family. He went on to describe to me the strange lives of the two girls. He thought their father was a fool and put his wife, sister-in-law, and daughter into his "entrenched ideas." He didn't let them talk to anyone but women. Aside from the postman, the gardener, and the little listener at the grocery store, not a single man, young and old, was allowed in their doors. They could go out to Vienna to buy groceries or to have a break, but of course it was only the solemn promise of their mother or aunt to keep them far away from any man. David called Mr. 〇 "son of a gun", and he thought that Mr. 〇 seemed to look down on the virtue of women. He wanted his two daughters to become old maids. It is simply unheard of to ban two charming nineteen- and seventeen-year-old girls and young men from speaking. "The man was a dangerous lunatic, and he had claimed that whoever was going to enter his sanctuary would shoot him. He really deserved to be sent to a lunatic asylum near Klosterburg. ”
David then recounts how he met the two girls. His sister arranged the date out of sympathy for Mary and Ella; the villa in Klosternoyburg was on a side road, near the church of the small village, with a narrow road leading from the church hillock to the big vineyard of the 〇 family. Near the top of the hill, about ten minutes away, and out of sight from the window was a gazebo, where the sisters spent many summer afternoons. There was a meadow surrounded by fruit trees, and the fence of the garden not far from the meadow had a small door, almost covered by hanging branches. The two girls opened the door that Mr. ࣷ had ordered not to open, and a few weeks earlier David had come to the corner of the garden to visit the two girls and his own sister, and they had spent a very pleasant afternoon together. At that time, it was summer, and it was very comfortable to come and enjoy the fresh air of the countryside often. He often visited the two girls in this beautiful garden in Klosterneuburg in his free afternoons. However, if Mr. 〇 knew that a young man had stepped into his garden or had spoken to his daughter, that would be the end of it. "With the discretion due such matter at that time" David used very careful wording, in the style of the times, can not blame him for being contrived, he told me these words, let me understand that he was in love with Mary.
Turning away from his vivid description of the situation in Klosterneuburg, he told me: "Ella had asked about me. The image of a little girl walking upright, without squinting, appeared in my mind and then disappeared again. I wonder if David is fooling me, because he used to find me happy, maybe his sister knew that many years ago, when I was a child, I had a crush on Ella? In any case, I did not believe David's words, and I told him to go and climb his tree, preferably the apple tree in the garden of Fort Klosterno; but he insisted that he was telling the truth.
About a week later, to my surprise, David came to me in the university library, knowing that I would sometime be reading Goethe's books in it. He went out with me and told me that he had gone to Fort Klosterno and promised the two girls to take me to their garden to play. He added that they were both curious about me and asked if I was free the following Tuesday, and I had to believe him.
We take a train from Franz Josef Station to Klosterneuburg. Kiel Ridge, this place is something I've known since I was a kid. Upon arrival in the town, we boarded the bus from Kielinger Church. David led me on the path leading to Mr. 〇's garden, and we climbed up the hillock and stopped in front of the small door, which, as he described, was half-hidden in the falling woods. Then we went into the garden, only to see that there were lawns, big trees, pavilions, and benches a few steps away from the gazebo. Mary was there to say hello to me. She was still the way I remembered, just taller, and she was already a beautiful girl. She still has that classical beauty, light blond hair, easy-going, happy demeanor.
We sat in the gazebo overlooking the church and vineyards. It was shortly after noon, and the village was silent, and from Mr. 〇's hut there was a winding path leading to where we were sitting.
"Where is Ella?" David asked. Mary pointed to the path covered with vines on both sides and replied, "She's there." "A girl in blue came to us, and suddenly Ella was standing in front of me. She was obviously a little breathless from climbing the mountain. I stared into her blue eyes, as deep as a lake, and then I heard her gentle voice say, "How are you?" Mr. Reich? ”
I listened to the voice and felt as if the bells of the church in the village were beginning to ring, and finally a smile appeared on her face, which I had longed for many years before, and the contrast between the serious expression in her eyes and the smile on her lips as she said goodbye to her friend.
I stared at her as if she were a ghost, and in front of me was a girl I knew and I didn't know. This mix of strangeness and intimacy confused me and startled me. The fusion of near-forgotten memories and fresh impressions made me feel that I had experienced this situation before, and when Goethe met Stanford, he must have felt the same way:
Please tell me why fate is
Tying us with unsolvable knots?
In those unforgettable times, you must have been
My sister or my wife.
The psychological difference is that I did see this girl when she was seven years old, and when I saw her again, she was already a seventeen-year-old girl.
Ella wears a light blue fit-and-fit civilian dress. According to the fashion of the time, the wide skirt almost covered the shoes. She had a wide-brimmed straw hat hanging from her arm. When David and Mary walked away, we sat on the bench and talked, which was almost the same as ever. But aren't we old friends? Although we never talked to each other. Ella told me a lot about herself and her sister, and told me how they spent the years we didn't see each other. She studied music and foreign languages and was clearly interested in literature. We talked about my home and her family. She told me that her father traveled a lot and often brought them beautiful gifts; the family hired a university professor for them to teach them their homework. She asked about my studies and was interested in my future plans. We reminisce about our childhood, the people who lived in the apartment at that time. She told me that she had discovered Gorha Hauptmann and that she liked his "weavers," and that I had praised the script and novel of a writer I had discovered at that time, whose name was Atul Binnitschin, but whom she had never heard. She was so naturally active, so sweet and kind, that I was completely captivated. Where did the arrogant girl who once looked at me with a magical look that puzzled me go?
Many years later, Ella told me that the stupidity of my childhood had left an impression on her, and she knew that it was a wordless gesture of love. She had wanted me to speak to her, but of course she couldn't speak to me first, and the little girls had their pride. She told me that her indifference was pretentious. She often heard her mother and aunt say that a girl must never show that she cares about a man or he will look down on her. I later learned that since they had moved to Klosterneuburg, she had been thinking about me for hours. She gave me a picture of me from a classmate I was ten years old. She watched it every day, and she told me that she used to whisper "Theodor" as if I would hear it. When David showed up, she hoped her dream would become a reality. What an "illusion" of love, which we call love, can grow in the barren garden! A young girl spent several years missing a man who had never spoken before, and he was quietly caring for her. And how stupid I am! I never imagined that I would be the object of her affection. There was not the slightest sign of her behavior that she had paid so much attention to my clumsy admiration.
It seems that she knew a lot about me and my family from several of the girlfriends who had visited them after they had moved to Klosterneuburg. We talked a lot, commented on many people, and we found that we had many of the same interests with each other. David had something to do, and before I left, I delayed an hour to chat with them. They took out a sandwich made of ham eggs from the house. But the twilight was deep, and I had to go. Before saying goodbye, I asked Ella to sing an art song that I had often heard her sing since I was a child. She nodded and held out her hand to me without a word. Then she and her sister walked slowly along the vine-winding path toward the house. I watched her figure disappear. I left the garden and approached the house, and then I heard the first few syllables of Schubert's song. Ella played the piano herself. Singing the familiar words in her sweet, soft voice—a familiar Schubert art song that I had heard her sing in Vienna:
You are sweet peace and tranquility
You are a haven of Grace
You are the answer of the longing
And that makes thirst burn
Blessings of cool rest
At this time these simple verses passed on to me not only the essence of the softest creation, but the essence of all femininity—that is, the best of women—that is, their own, who have the center of gravity in their souls, as opposed to the agitation and destructiveness of men.
I couldn't catch the car to the station, so I had to walk in the rain, and along the way, I felt like I was riding the wind. Ella's shadow accompanied me; I saw her face, her eyes, her smile floating before my eyes. I looked at her face in my imagination and saw every line of her wide blue dress. I liken this image to the bluebell flower that appears in the clumsy poem in my head. But the melody of Schubert's songs appeared in my head again and again, and I sang triumphantly: You are sweet peace and tranquility.
At that time, I met this excited teenager on the road, saw his smile, and heard him singing, and must have thought that he was a madman who escaped from the nearby gugging mental hospital. But I don't care at all, because I have discovered the most precious secret in the world. I am convinced that I am the only possessor of it, and that no one can make me think the opposite. I'm nineteen years old, and it's useless to talk to me. Seven years later, we got married, almost exactly on this memorable day.
