Happiness is a four-spotted Chaser
HAPPINESS IS A FOUR-SPOTTED CHASER
VIERFLECK ODER DAS GLÜCK
GENRE Novel, LANGUAGE German
“Katharina Geiser’s portrayal of a grandiose ménage à quatre bristles with comedy and wit and yet we glimpse the rumbles and tremors shaking the foundations of what seems superficially to be a happy arrangement.” Radio Ö1
KATHARINA GEISER was born in 1956, studied German and English Literature and Educational Theory. She lives near the Lake Zürich and in the Schleswig-Holstein countryside in Germany. Vierfleck oder Das Glück is her fourth book, following her debut novel Vorübergehend Wien (2006), the short-story collection Rosa ist Rosa (2008), and the novel Diese Gezeiten (2011). PHOTO © Tobias Humm
Eugen Esslinger is the son of a corset-maker and wants to be an artist. He travels through Italy, climbs the Matterhorn, takes courses in painting and is fascinated by dragonflies – above all, by the four-spotted chaser, which has, like himself, a real genius for survival. For he is a Jew and that is not easy in Germany; it’s not made any easier that he’s also a homosexual. He really wants to lead a ‘normal’ life. When he meets Mila Rauch, the two quickly marry and travel across all of Europe. But after the First World War, there’s nothing left of his once considerable fortune.
In a pension in Heidelberg, Mila makes the acquaintance of Heinrich Zimmer, a lecturer in Indian Studies, and the two fall in love. Mila has three children by him in quick succession; Eugen wants to protect his marriage, so he stands in as the official father of the three children. In 1928, Zimmer marries Christiane, Hugo von Hoffmannsthal’s daughter, and with her also has three children: a ménage à quatre with the full knowledge and approval of all parties. Christiane remarks at one point that Heinrich needs two women, two times three children, two houses, and two gardens full of sunflowers, all for his own well-being. But at the same time, he makes twice as many people happy.
Katharina Geiser’s historically authentic tale is thrillingly and entertainingly told; it’s based on the 1,700 letters that Heinrich Zimmer wrote to Mila Esslinger-Rauch. They were kept by Maya Rauch, Heinrich and Mila’s daughter – who was also once
Katharina Geiser’s German teacher.
TITLE Vierfleck oder Das Glück
PUBLISHER Jung und Jung, Salzburg and Vienna
PUBLICATION DATE February 2015
PAGES 264
ISBN 978-3-99027-065-3
TRANSLATION RIGHTS Jochen Jung, office@jungundjung.at
VIERFLECK ODER DAS GLÜCK, KATHARINA GEISER
German original (p. 8-9), English translation below
1907
Jetzt hat der Himmel die Farbe von Sardinen. Aale und Zeppeline, oben und unten. Oder sehr nahe beieinander.
Es ist Winter.
Eugen steht in unvertrauter Umgebung an einem Fenster und blickt auf den See. Eine ölige Stille liegt in der frühen Stunde. Auf der Fensterbank des Nachbarhauses steht eine Flasche Apfelwein oder Bier, andere Länder, andere Sitten, schau an, der Winterlaube Zier. Eine Krähe und bald noch eine zweite torkeln über den Dachfirst, Spatzen sind durch Vorfenster und Fenster zu hören, Rinnsale von Schwitzwasser irren über die Glasscheiben. Auf einer fernen Hügelkuppe liegt ein letzter, von Wäldern gesäumter Schneefleck, schön rechteckig und einladend. Wie ein unbeschriebenes Blatt. Aus dieser Entfernung ist es aber nicht größer als ein Daumennagel.
Mit einem Taschenmesser putzt Eugen sich jeden Morgen die Fingernägel, öffnet Briefe, schält Früchte, spitzt Bleistifte an. Seine Hände sind die Hände eines Miederwarenfabrikantensohns. Das Messer hat einen perlmuttbesetzten Schaft und eine goldene Klinge. Manchmal stößt Eugen es in einen Stapel Zeitungen oder in eine Schnecke, zweimal, fünf-, siebenmal.
Mit einem ähnlichen Messer, so hat der Biologe am Vorabend bemerkt, während er die Apfelschalenspirale unter Eugens Hand auffing, hätte mancher Arzt noch vor wenigen Jahren Luftröhrenschnitte vorgenommen.
Eugen sah in die grauen Augen seines Gastgebers.
Kleines Fest der Sinne gefällig, Monsieur?
Dieser Ort scheint ganz schön auf der Höhe der Zeit zu sein. Und doch ist es manchmal besser, etwas nicht zu berühren, als es zu berühren.
Eugen könnte einige Tage beim Biologen Blum und dessen Familie wohnen bleiben. Seine Frau werde für eine Diät aus Nüssen, Milch und eingemachten Äpfeln sorgen, sofern dies der Wunsch seines Gastes sei, so Blum. Aber eine Nacht reicht, ganz nach Plan will Eugen heute die Kur in der anderen Seegemeinde antreten. Auch darum, weil man ohne festen Wohnsitz einen Anker in den Zeitläuften benötigt.
Als er sich vom Fenster abwendet, haben vor seiner Zimmertür die Kinder des Biologen die Flurdielen auf und ab zu hüpfen begonnen, sie hüpfen, quietschen, glucksen, hüpfen. Das will ausgehalten sein. Das hält Eugen aus, denn er braucht sich nur Maxi zu vergegenwärtigen, Maxi mit baumelnden Zwillingskirschen an den abstehenden Ohren, seiner Zahnlücke und den zerkratzten, braunen Beinen.
HAPPINESS IS A FOUR-SPOTTED CHASER, KATHARINA GEISER
Excerpt translated by Steph Morris
1907
Now the sky is the colour of sardines. Eels and zeppelins. Above and below. Or very close to each other.
It is winter.
Eugen is standing in unfamiliar surroundings, at a window, looking out at the lake. An oily stillness coats the early morning. On the bench below the neighbours’ window stands a bottle – apple wine or beer. When in Rome. And isn’t the cabin delightful in winter. A crow – and another – lurches over the crest of the roof. He hears sparrows through the double windows. Rivulets of condensation wander down the panes. On a distant hilltop the last patch of snow, fringed by woods, nice and square and inviting. Like a blank page. No larger than a thumbnail at this distance however.
Using a penknife Eugen cleans his fingernails every morning, opens letters, peels fruit, sharpens pencils. His hands are the hands of a corset maker’s son. The knife has a mother-of-pearl handle and a golden blade. Sometimes Eugen stabs it into a pile of newspapers or a snail, two, five, seven times.
Till very recently some doctors still used knives like these to conduct tracheotomies, the biologist had noted the night before, catching the coiled apple peel as it fell from Eugen’s hand.
Eugen gazed at his host’s grey eyes.
Would monsieur appreciate a little feast for the senses?
This place seems to be thriving. And yet sometimes there are some things it is better not to touch.
Eugen could stay for a while with Blum the biologist and his family. His wife could offer a diet of nuts, milk and preserved apples, if that were to his liking, Blum has said. But one night is enough. Eugen intends to stick to his plan and check into the spa in the other lakeside village today. Not least because with no fixed abode, one needs to be anchored in the times.
As he turns from the window, the biologist’s children start jumping around on the wooden floor in the hallway outside his room, jumping, squealing, gurgling, jumping. Quite something to put up with. Eugen does put up with it, because all he has to do is recall Maxi. Maxi, with twin cherries dangling from his sticking-out ears, the gap in his teeth, his scratched, brown legs.
“Four lives marked by jealousy, subtle messages, longing and pragmatism. Katharina Geiser relates events not chronologically, but in flashbacks and flash-forwards. What might sound complex is in fact a multi-faceted portrait of four decades of German history. An absolute must-read.”
WESTDEUTSCHER RUNDFUNK
