Berlin Alexanderplatz

by Alfred Doblin

  Let’s get out of here. Left my hat down there. He’ll smash me up. Better run off. Already-he hasn’t gotten out of the hollow yet-she begins to yell, she yells “Franz” and starts to run. He gets up, and runs like mad, he’s caught her, he’s in his shirt-sleeves. They fall near a tree, and lie there. She kicks, but he’s over her. holding her mouth. “Are you gain’ to scream, you bitch, are you screamin’ again? What are you yellin’ about? Am I doin’ anything to you, will you keep quiet? He didn’t smash any of your bones the other day, did he? Better look out. that’s not my way of doin’ things.” He takes his hand away from her mouth. “I won’t yell.” “Then it’s all right. And now you get up, you, and go on back there and get your hat. I never use force on a woman. I ain’t never done it as long as I live. But you’d better not get me mad this way.”

  He walks behind her.

  “Needn’t brag about your Franz, even if you are his whore.” “I’m goin’ home now.” “Whatcha mean, gain’ home, got a screw loose, or somethin’, maybe you don’t know who you’re talkin’ to, you can talk that way to that poor nut o’ yours, but not to me.” “Ob-I don’t know what to do.” “Go back to the hollow like a good girl.”

  When a little calf is to be slaughtered, they tie a rope round its neck and lead it to the bench. Then they lift the little calf, put it on the bench, and tie it firmly.

  They walk to the hollow. He says: “Lie down.” “Me?” “If you yell! I like you, kid, otherwise I would’na come here, I tell you; even if you are his whore, that’s no reason why you should act like a countess. Better not start any of that with me. You know that don’t do no good to nobody. I don’t care whether it’s man, woman or child, I’m ticklish about it. You can learn a thing or two from your pimp. He can tell you somethin’. If it don’t embarrass him, that is. But you can hear it from me, too. I can tell you all about who he is. And what you’ll be in for, if you start somethin’ with me. Y’know he once wanted to try all that stuff he’s got up there in that noodle of his. I guess he wanted to squeal on us. He stood watch once where we was workin’. And he says he won’t help, he’s a respectable man. He ain’t got no holes in his jacket, that fellow. Come along, says I to him. So then he had to come along in the car, and I didn’t know what to do with the bozo, he always did have a big mouth, but wait a minute, there’s a car back of us, and I thinks to myself, now watch out, m’boy, you with your highfalutin’ airs, you gotta act decent to me. And out of the car he flies. Now you know where he left his arm.”

  Icy hands, icy feet, so it was him. “Now you just lie down, and be nice, and behave proper.” He’s a murderer! “You dirty dog, you crook.” He beams. “Y’see. Now yell as hard as you can.” Now you’re goin’ to behave. She screams and weeps: “You dog, you wanted to kill him, you got him into trouble and now you want to have me, you nasty thing.” “Yep, that’s what I want.” “You nasty thing, I could spit on you.” He holds her mouth closed. “Are you goin’ to?” She turns blue, and tugs at his hand: “Murderer, help! Franz, Franzeken!”

  Its season, its season, to everything its season! A time to strangle, a time to heal; to break down and to build up, to rend, and to sew, to everything its season. She throws herself down, trying to escape. They wrestle in the hollow. Help, Franz!

  We’ll pull that job all right, we’ll playa little joke on your Franz, then he’ll have something to think about the whole week. “I wanta go home.” “Try and do it. Many a one has tried it.”

  He kneels on her back, his hands are around her throat, his thumbs in the nape of her neck, her body contracts, contracts. Her body contracts. There’s a season, to be born, and to die, to be born and to die, to everything its season.

  Murderer, you say, and you coaxed me here, and I guess you wanta fool me, you tart, but you don’t know Reinhold.

  Power, power, there is a mower, has power which the Lord hath kept. Lemme go. She’s still writhing and kicking, she kicks from behind. We’ll set the child a-rocking, and the dogs can eat what remains of you.

  Her body contracts, contracts, her body, Mieze’s body. Murderer, she says. She’ll find out, he probably told you that, your sweet Franz.

  Whereupon the animal is given a blow on the neck with a wooden club, and the arteries on both sides of the neck are opened with the knife; a tin basin receives the blood.

  It is eight o’clock, and the wood is fairly dark. The trees rock and sway. That was heavy work. Is she still talkin’? No, she’s stopped her yapping. The bitch. That’s what you get when you go out on an excursion with a tart like that.

  Heap it with brushwood, tie a handkerchief to the next tree, so we can find it again. I’m through with her, where’s Karl? Must fetch him. A full hour later he is back with Karl, that guy has no guts, look how he’s lrembling, his knees are wobbly, and a fellow is expected to work with such a greenhorn! It is quite dark, they search with flashlights, here’s the handkerchief. They get spades from the car. The body is buried deep, sand on top, brushwood above, watch out for tracks, old boy, wipe ‘em away, pull yourself together, Karl. You act as if you were already in for it yourself. by golly.

  “All right then, here’s my passport, it’s a good passport, Karle, and here’s some money and you’d better make yourself scarce as long as things are so hot. You’ll get some money, don’t you worry. Write to Pums’s address, as usual. I’ll go on back. Nobody’s seen me, and they can’t do anything to you, you’ve got your alibi. O.K. Now beat it.”

  The trees rock and sway. To everything, everything.

  It’s pitch dark. Her face is smashed, her teeth are smashed, her mouth, lips, tongue, throat, body, limbs, abdomen, all are smashed. I’m yourn, you shall console me. Stettin Depot Police Station, Aschinger’s; I’m feeling bad, come on, we’ll soon be home, I’m yourn.

  The trees rock, and a wind rises. Whoo, hooh, hooh, oo, hoo. Night advances, her body lies there, all smashed up, her eyes, her tongue, her mouth, come on, we’ll soon be home. I’m yourn. A tree creaks on the edge of the wood. Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoooo, that’s the storm, it’s coming with fife and drum, it’s now lurking there above the wood, now it breaks loose howling and slithers down. A wailing in the brushwood. Like a scraping sound, and then it howls like a dog that’s locked up and wails and whimpers, just listen to him Whimper, someone must have stepped on him, and with a heavy heel. now it is silent again.

  Whoo, whoo, whoo, the storm is coming up again, it is night the woods lie quiet, tree beside tree. They have grown up in peace. They are serried like a herd. They stand so penned together that the storm does not easily assail them, only the sentinels on the edge and the weaklings get it in the neck. Let’s cling together, let’s hold fast, it is night, the sun is gone, hoo, hooh, hoo, there it starts again, it’s here, it’s below, above, around us. A yellow-red glare in the sky, and night again, a yellow-red glare, night, the whimpering and whistling grows louder. It’s the sentinels, they know what’s coming, and they whimper, and with them the grass, it may bend and quiver, but what of the massive trees? Then suddenly the wind has ceased blowing, has given up, abandoned the game, but leaves them squeaking still, what will it do now?

  If you want to demolish a house, you can’t do it with your hand, a steam-shovel is needed, or a charge of dynamite from below. All the wind does is to expand its chest a bit. Watch now how it draws in its breath and then puffs it out whoo, whoo, whoo, it draws it in and puffs it out whoo, whoo, whoo. Every breath is heavy as a mountain. Puffs it out, whoo, whoo, whoo. The mountain is rolled forward, rolled back, puffs it out, whoo, whoo, whoo. Back and forth. Its breath is weighty as a ball that drives and pushes against the wood. And when the wood stands serried, like a herd on the hills, the wind runs over the herd and goes roaring by.

  Now it starts: boom, zoom, without fife or drum. The trees sway right and left. Boom, zoom, boom. But they cannot keep in time. Just when the trees bend towards the left, boom it goes to the left again, and they snap and crack, grate and grind, burst, crackle, and thud do
wn. Boom, mutters the storm, bend over to the left, hoo, hoo, oo, hoo, now back, it’s passed, it’s gone, it’s just a question of watching for the proper moment. Woom, there it is back again, look out boom, zoom, zoom, those are bombs from airplanes, it wants to tear the wood down, to crush the whole wood.

  The trees howl and rock, there is a crackle, they break, there’s a rattle, boom. Life’s at stake, boom, zoom, the sun is gone, tottering weights, night boom, zoom.

  I am yourn, come now, we’ll soon be there, I’m yourn. Boom, zoom...

  EIGHTH BOOK

  It was no use. It was still no use. Franz Biberkopf has received the hammer blow, he knows he is lost and he does not yet know why.

  Franz notices Nothing; the World goes on

  September 2nd. Franz goes about as usual, rides out with the frisky business go-between to the public baths in Wannsee. On the third, a Monday, he’s astonished that Miezeken hasn’t come back yet, she didn’t leave any word, the landlady can’t remember anything, she hasn’t telephoned, either. Well, perhaps she’s on an excursion with her exalted friend and protector! He’ll probably unload her soon. Let’s wait till evening.

  It’s noon, Franz is sitting at home, the bell rings, a special delivery letter, from her beau, to Mieze. What’s this? I thought she was with him, what does it mean? I’ll open the letter: “And I am wondering, Sonia, why you don’t even call me up. Yesterday and the day before I waited at the office, as agreed.” What’s this, where is she?

  Franz gets up, where’s my hat, don’t get this at all. I’ll go see this man. Taxi. “She hasn’t been with you? When was she here the last time? Friday? Is that so.” They both look at each other. “Haven’t you a nephew, maybe he went along.” The gentleman gets wild, what, I’ll have him up here right away, you stay here a while. Slowly they drink red wine. The nephew arrives: “This is Sonia’s fiance, do you know where she is?” “1, what’s the matter?” “When did you see her last?” “Oh, a long time ago, about two weeks.” “That’s right, she told me about that. Not since?” “No.” “You’ve heard nothing?” “Nothing at all, but why, what’s the matter?” “Our friend here will tell you himself.” “She’s been away since Saturday, didn’t say a word, left everything lying around, not a word as to where she went.” The gentleman-friend: “Maybe she’s found somebody else.” “Don’t think so.” The three of them drink red wine. Franz sits there quietly: “I suppose we’d better wait a bit.”

  Her face smashed, her teeth smashed, her eyes smashed, her lips, tongue, neck, body, legs, abdomen smashed.

  She’s not back next day. She’s not back. Everything’s lying around just as she left it. She’s not there. Wonder if Eva knows anything. “Didja have a row with her Franz?” “Nope, two weeks ago, but everything’s all right now.” “A pick-up?” “Nope, she told me about her friend’s nephew, but he’s there, I saw him.” “Maybe it might be well to watch him, maybe she’s with him.” ‘Think so?” “Y’might keep an eye on him. Y’never know with Mieze. She’s funny that way.”

  She is not there. Franz does nothing for two days, thinking, I won’t run after her. Still he hears nothing, nothing at all, and then he trails the nephew for one whole day, till the next noon; as the nephew’s landlady is out, Franz and the classy go-between slip quickly into the room, the door’s easily opened with a hook; not a soul in the place, in his room there are lots of books, no sign of a dame. Some nice pictures on the walls, books, she’s not here. I know her powder, it don’t smell like that, come on, don’t take anything along, leave that poor woman alone, she makes her living letting out furnished rooms.

  What’s the matter? Franz sits in his room. For hours. Where is Mieze? She’s gone, not a word from her. What do you say to that? Everything topsy-turvy in the room, he took the bed apart, put it together again. She’s let me down. It’s not possible. It’s not possible. Let me down. Did I do somethin’? I didn’t do nothin’. She didn’t hold that business about the nephew against me.

  Who’s that? Eva. “You’re sittin’ in the dark, Franz, why don’t you light the gas?” “Mieze’s given me the slip. Is that possible?” “Don’t bother, old kid. She’ll come back. She likes you, she won’t run away from you, I understand people.” “I know all that. You think I’m worryin’ about that? She’ll come all right.” “You see, the girl’s likely gone off somewhere, met some old friend from the old days, out on a little flyer. I knew her before, when you hadn’t got to know her yet, that’s the way she does, she gets ideas like that into her head.” “But it’s queer just the same, I can’t understand it.” “She loves you. Say, put your hand on my stomach, Franz.” “What is it?” “Well, it’s by you, don’t you remember, a kid. She wanted that, Mieze, didn’t she?” “What?” “Why, yes.”

  Franz lays his head against Eva’s body. “Mieze wanted it. Lemme sit down. It’s not possible.” “Well, look out Franz, when she comes back, she’ll make a face. “ Eva starts crying herself. “Say, Eva, who’s excited now? You are!” “It’s driving me batty. I just can’t make that girl out.” “Now I have to console you.” “No, just nerves, on account of the kid, maybe.” “You just watch out, when she comes back she’ll start a grand old rumpus about it.” She goes on crying. “What’ll we do about it, Franz? That isn’t like her at all.” “First you say: that’s what she always does, she goes on a bust with somebody, and afterwards you say, that’s not like her!” “I don’t know, Franz! “

  Eva presses Franz’s head against her arm. She looks down on Franzeken’s head: the hospital in Magdeburg, they ran over his arm, he killed Ida, Lord, what’s the matter with the man? He is always in trouble. Maybe Mieze is dead. There’s something after him. Something has happened to Mieze. She collapses on a chair, and, terrified, lifts her hands to her face. Franz is startled. She sobs and sobs. She knows there is something after him, something has happened to Mieze.

  He urges her to speak, but she is silent. Then she recovers herself. “I won’t let nobody take this child from me. And I don’t care what Herbert thinks about it.” “Has he said anything?” He skips over six miles of notions. “No, he thinks it’s his. But I’ll keep it.” “All right, Eva, and I’ll be godfather.” “You’re in a good humor, Franz.” “They can’t put it over on me so easy. Now, cheer up, Eva. Don’t I know my Mieze? She won’t roll under a bus. I know it’ll come out all right.” “If you think so, Franzeken, all right; so longl” “Well, let’s have a kiss.” “To think that you should be so cheerful, Franz.”

  We got legs, we got teeth, we got eyes, we got arms, let any guy come on that wants to bite us, that wants to bile Franz, let him come. Franz has got two arms, he’s got two legs, he’s got muscles, he smashes everything into a cocked hat. They ought to know Franz, he’s no milksop. Whatever lies behind LIS, whatever lies before us, let any guy come along that wants, we’ll take a drink on it, we’ll take two drinks on it, we’ll take nine drinks on it.

  We got no legs, alas, we got no teeth, we got no eyes, we got no arms, anyone can come up and bite Franz, he’s a milksop, alas, he can’t defend himself, he can only drink.

  “I gotta do somethin’, Herbert, I can’t just go on lookin’ at this thing.” “What do you wanta do, honey?” “I can’t just go on lookin’ at this thing. He don’t notice nothin’, he sits there and says she’ll come back, and she’ll come back, and I look in the papers every day, and there’s nothin’ in ‘em. Didja hear anything?” “Nope.” “Can’t you go around investigatin’ a bit and see if anybody has heard, heard anything from anybody?” “That’s foolish, Eva, what you’re sayin’ now. What you find mysterious about the business, why, that’s not really mysterious at all. What is it, anyway? The kid’s left him. My God, we won’t tear our hair out for that. He’ll get another jane.” “Would you talk like that about me, too?” “Now cut that stuff out Eva, but when a girl’s like that.” “She ain’t, I got her for him, I’ve looked around in the morgue already, watch out, Herbert, somethin’ has happened to her. He’s always in tr
ouble, our Franz. Something’s after him. Say, haven’t you heard nothin’ at all?” “I don’t know nothin’ at all.” “Well, sometimes something comes out when they get together at the club. Hasn’t anybody seen her? She certainly ain’t disappeared from the earth like that. Say-if she don’t get back soon, I’m gonna go to Police Headquarters.” “You’d do a thing like that you would?” “Don’t laugh, sure I’d do it. I’ve gotta find her, Herbert, somethin’ has happened, she hasn’t gone off by herself, she’d never go away from me like that, and from Franz neither. And he don’t notice it.” “I can’t listen to all this. That’s a lotta hot air, and now let’s go to the movies, Eva.”

  At the movies they watch a play.

  In the third act when the noble hero is apparently killed by a bandit Eva sighs. And when Herbert looks her way, she’s just about to slide off her seat and she faints, imagine it. Afterwards they walk silently arm-inarm through the street. Herbert is astonished: “Your old man is goin’ to have lots of fun, if you act like this.” “He shot him, did you see that, Herbert?” “That wasn’t real, it was only a trick, didn’t you spot that? Why, you’re still trembling.” “You gotta do somethin’ about it, Herbert, it can’t go on like this.” “You’d better go on a trip, tell your old man you’re sick.” “No, what’ll we do? Please do somethin’, Herbert. Didn’t you help Franz when he had that trouble with his arm, now go ahead and do this, too. Please, please, do.” “I can’t Eva, what can I do?” She cries. He has to help her into the automobile.

  Franz doesn’t have to go begging, for Eva slips him something and he gets something from Pums, too, they have a new project for the end of September. Towards the end of September, Matter, the tinner, comes back. He has been abroad, working at something or other. When he sees Franz again, he says he was recuperating, lung trouble. He still looks wretched; he hasn’t got much better. Franz says Mieze is gone, he knew her, didn’t he? But he’s not to tell anybody about it, there are some people who laugh themselves sick when a girl runs away from a fellow. “Keep mum about it to Reinhold, will ye, I’ve had some trouble with him about dames, he’d laugh himself sick, if he heard about that. I haven’t got another one yet.” Franz smiles, “and don’t want any, either.” He has lines on his forehead, and around his mouth. But he holds his head firmly upon his neck and presses his lips together.