The blind side of the heart - By Julia Franck Page 0,106

out his arms, palms upwards, fingers slightly curving, a gesture that also suggested he was distancing himself. But he took Helene’s hand and kissed it.

Are you better now? she asked. Have you been able to convalesce?

No, no better. When I arrived the doctor diagnosed a chill of the heart, what do you think of that, Helene? For a moment it looked as if the Baron were going to reveal everything about himself in front of everyone. He looked keenly around, but then began laughing heartily next moment. Ah, Davos isn’t what it used to be. A few genuine invalids whom one doesn’t want to know, and a great many hysterics who love to exchange medical anecdotes all day and stroll around the grounds of the spa. They go on group pilgrimages to the Forest Sanatorium.

Is that so? said a small, slim person whom Helene didn’t know. Obviously this delicate-looking creature admired the Baron and was listening with a finger to her ear.

But no normal mortal so much as gains entry. The Baron was pleased to have an audience at last. I simply said, assuming an air of importance, that I was to see a certain Monsieur Richter. That seemed to me a good sort of name. The doorman nodded, satisfied, and let me sink into a big armchair for a while. I acted as if I were waiting. Unbearable, the company there, terrible.

How very true, said the frail creature, pushing a strand of copper-coloured hair back from her face.

Helene was glad to find the Baron in such high spirits. He was obviously better.

Carl Wertheimer, said the Baron now, trying to look pleased. How nice that you could come too.

We’re engaged. Helene looked challengingly at the Baron.

Yes, er, yes, I’ve heard about that already. The Baron scratched his ear. Leontine told me about it. I must congratulate you. As if he found this difficult, the Baron put the flat of his hand to his receding hairline, and absent-mindedly tugged at his thin hair with his forefinger and middle finger. The delicate creature beside him shifted restlessly from foot to foot, looking around in a friendly manner.

My God, yes, what was I about to say? Oh, I wanted to tell you about the philosophical symposium, the argument that we weren’t spared at Davos. But perhaps first I should introduce Fräulein Pina Giotto; we met in Arosa.

Staying at the same boarding house, the delicate creature confirmed.

It was like this: the prices in Davos, ah, here in Berlin you’ve no idea. And Arosa, well, it’s almost part of Davos. The Baron fiddled with his hair, his eyes on Helene, and forgot to blink.

Situated even higher up, claimed the delicate creature.

The Baron tore his eyes away and looked uncertainly at his companion. Cautiously, he ventured a gentle but defensive gesture in her direction and spoke again.

As I’m sure you know, Carl, the argument between Cassirer and Heidegger had the whole place in uproar.

Terrible, yes, said Fräulein Giotto. One of them simply left the resort.

Heidegger announced that he was going to annihilate Cassirer’s philosophy.

Yes, and then one of them simply went away. Did you ever hear of such a thing? As I said to Heini, what a coward. Ducking out simply isn’t done.

Now the Baron went red and sweat broke out on his forehead. He seemed unhappy with Fräulein Giotto’s remark. Well, it wasn’t quite like that. Apologetically, the Baron looked from Carl to Helene and back to Carl again. I’ll explain. The Baron passed his handkerchief over his forehead and the gleaming bald patch on his head. It was about Kant. Heidegger’s altered theory of Being is fundamental, radical, he hardly let Cassirer get a word in, perhaps Cassirer felt he wasn’t being taken seriously. He was concerned with symbolic forms. He kept talking about the idea of the symbol. Perhaps that’s why his hasty departure seemed to most of us a sign and symbol of his defeat.

Helene avoided exchanging glances with Carl. She didn’t want to give him away. Weren’t those the two gentlemen in Hamburg and Freiburg to whom Carl had written, and for whose answers he had been waiting several weeks?

When the party was sitting round the big table later, and after many courses the last to be served was a soufflé on a bed of apples, Carl was talking to Erich about the latest developments in the economy.

Buy, I tell you, buy, buy, buy. Erich was sitting opposite Carl and Helene. He had draped one arm round the back of Fanny’s