Good Living Street

by Tim Bonyhady

  The next day was at least as bad. Gretl found it “truly painful” as Norbert “unfortunately” identified a hundred flaws in Hoffmann’s work, drawing most likely on Adolf Loos’s critique of Hoffmann in “Ornament and Crime,” which Loos had delivered most recently in Vienna at the city’s Engineers and Architects Association in 1913. In doing so, Norbert not only denigrated the taste of Moriz and Hermine but also implicitly condemned the Gallia apartment in the Wohllebengasse and expressed his abhorrence of the environment in which he had wooed and won Gretl. As Moriz and he engaged in “the bitterest battle of principles for and against Hoffmann,” she looked on without saying anything or being asked her opinion.

  The next contestation between Moriz and Norbert—their fourth in four days—was “oh so wearisome,” Gretl recorded, but it was the last. As they all knew, Norbert could not refuse Moriz’s offer. As much as Norbert needed Moriz’s help when it came to his military service, he had to accept whatever Moriz would give him as part of Gretl’s dowry. After Norbert left, Gretl wrote: “Prof. Hoffmann is to design the apartment. I unfortunately do not know whether I should be happy about this. As far as I am concerned, there is no one better at designing apartments than Hoffmann but Norbert is terribly against him and is very put out because he thinks that Father has no confidence in him as an architect. I hope and believe that Norbert will accept this decision more easily than he expects and that everything will end well.”

  Mothers-in-law were notorious for their interference in early twentieth-century Vienna. When Gretl became engaged to Norbert, she feared Mrs. Stern would conform to this stereotype. To Gretl’s relief, Mrs. Stern confined herself to criticizing Gretl’s headwear and trying to improve it. At the start of April, Mrs. Stern took Gretl on a shopping expedition in the city where, despite the international campaign against the slaughter of birds for their plumes, she bought Gretl a small black hat adorned with egret feathers. Such experiences led Gretl to revise her opinion of Mrs. Stern until she was “not at all afraid of her anymore” and “loved her more from day to day.” This good fortune was offset by Moriz’s determination to govern how Norbert and she lived. “With us,” Gretl observed, “Father is the mother-in-law.”

  What part did Gretl and Norbert play in this commission after Moriz prevailed? When and how did they shape Hoffmann’s designs? Gretl’s diary suggests they had no say. They neither talked directly to Hoffmann about what they most wanted nor discussed these matters with Moriz so that he might pass on their requirements to Hoffmann. While there is no record of what Moriz and Hoffmann discussed, most likely Moriz simply specified which rooms Hoffmann should design and how much he was prepared to spend, then left everything else to Hoffmann.

  Moriz’s decision to commission six rooms was remarkable not just because Hoffmann had designed only five in the Wohllebengasse but also because the war had sent the Austrian economy into a severe recession. When Moriz approached him in May 1915, Hoffmann had received no big commissions all year and was to receive only one more. The Wiener Werkstätte was also struggling, prompting Otto Primavesi to become its managing director in the hope of revitalizing it and Moriz to become chairman of its board—a mark of his commitment to the Werkstätte and admiration for Hoffmann, who remained its chief designer.

  Norbert could neither forget his defeat nor leave it alone. A week after Moriz prevailed, Norbert told Gretl that Hoffmann was ridiculously expensive. A week later he showed Gretl a range of architectural publications with designs that he admired. By then the apartment was a topic that Gretl feared because she knew it always ended with them arguing. She also accepted Norbert’s judgment that she had been spoiled by the lavishness of the family apartment in the Wohllebengasse and wished, like Norbert, that she had not become accustomed to its opulence. Meanwhile, Hoffmann and his staff worked on the commission. Emil Gerzabet, who had supervised the construction of Hoffmann’s most spectacular building—the Palais Stoclet for Hoffmann in Brussels—began by visiting the Untere Augartenstrasse so he could draw up a plan of the apartment’s rooms. A month later the designs for the apartment were ready. As usual, these renderings were highly finished watercolors showing what each room would look like. While Norbert’s name was on the floor plan as if the commission was his, Gerzabet implicitly recognized that it was not when he delivered the watercolors to Gretl.

  The rendering of the kitchen was the only one signed by Hoffmann alone, indicating that this watercolor was entirely his work. The other five, typical of Hoffmann in this period, were also signed by one of his staff. While Wilhelm Jonasch was just twenty-three, six years younger than Norbert, he had already achieved a significant reputation as a designer in his own right as well as one of Hoffmann’s assistants. Most likely, Hoffmann gave Jonasch broad instructions, then left these watercolors to him. They included many features, such as diamond patterns, stylized rose sprigs, and circular mirrors, that were familiar to Gretl from her parents’ apartment. The kitchen was much more austere than any room in the Wohllebengasse—almost everything in it was white apart from a black-and-white checkerboard floor. The other rooms were much more decorative. The greatest influence on them was folk art. When Gretl first saw the designs, they filled her with “almost unbearable enthusiasm.” When she showed them to Norbert later that day, he fell silent, overcome by anger and resentment, then declared he could never be happy in such an apartment. Far from being sympathetic, Gretl saw his response as yet more proof that he was a dunderhead.

  The following day, when the Gallias left to spend the summer in Alt Aussee, Norbert was at the station to see Gretl off, bearing flowers and presents as usual, while she was swallowing tears. Before boarding the train, she suggested they try to forget the apartment until he visited Alt Aussee, where they could discuss it in a more relaxed fashion. A week later he was there, staying at the village’s one grand hotel while spending most of each day at the Villa Gallia, where he found Gretl in a new outfit that her parents had bought. It was a dirndl, a peasant costume worn by many wealthy Viennese when in the Austrian countryside, which Norbert characteristically disliked.

  Their first conversation about the apartment was “peaceful and without ill-feeling!” Gretl recorded with surprise and delight. Their next, on July 8, her nineteenth birthday, was not. While Norbert derided every aspect of Hoffmann’s work, Gretl could imagine nothing better. “I love Prof. Hoffmann,” she wrote, “and find the drawings especially beautiful.” When she refused to accept Norbert’s criticisms, he accused her of having no confidence in him and she left the room in tears. Because it was her birthday, everything was magnified for her. When her parents asked why she was so upset, she told them without hesitation. While she knew it would fuel their opposition to Norbert, she did not care because she was beginning to think of breaking their engagement. When the next day was even worse, she thought of nothing else.

  “A miracle happened,” Gretl started her next entry. “Norbert apologized.” She should not have been surprised. Norbert had asked her forgiveness whenever they quarreled. Because Gretl knew how much Norbert wanted to design their apartment and abhorred Hoffmann’s work, she particularly appreciated his apology and, for the next two days, it was as if they had never argued. They talked happily, went for walks, and played tennis. As Norbert returned to Vienna by train, he wrote Gretl a letter that she recognized as his most passionate, thanking her for their many beautiful hours in Aussee and suggesting that they should forget the few hours that were not beautiful.

  She transcribed her response into her diary in clear recognition of its significance, the first time she had done so. “You should know that I do not forget quickly,” she wrote. “That is not my nature. I can forget only with great difficulty if someone has hurt me, especially if it has been someone I have loved with all my heart.” She reminded Norbert of the pain he caused her on her birthday. She concluded that they both would have to change and make concessions. If they had another such disagreement, she did not know what would happen.

&nb
sp; Norbert would not concede that he had spoiled her birthday. Having hoped to put their argument behind them, he now wondered whether they could. He took her conclusion as a threat that she would break their engagement, and he responded with a list of his aspirations, which began with him looking for good health, a stimulating job, financial prosperity, professional recognition, and freedom from serious worry. It ended with his embracing the language of “comrade,” which Gretl also used. “Last but not least,” Norbert wrote in English, he wanted a wife who would be his “very best comrade for wandering through life.” While Gretl thought that they would be equals if they were comrades, Norbert did not. “You only,” he declared, “can know whether you have the courage to have confidence in my leadership!”

  Gretl fainted after reading this letter. When she replied two days later, she railed: “Your first priorities are your health, your profession, your financial well-being, your reputation, and for you to live without worries. You come first, then you again and then nobody and only in the end, in your very last line, after a long pause, comes your wife.” While Gretl liked the idea of being Norbert’s comrade if it meant they were to be equals, she would not countenance being his inferior. Norbert, she declared, was not the devoted, considerate person she thought she had discovered on their many excursions but an immense egotist who did not love, understand, or know how to appreciate her. “Consider our engagement dissolved!”

  Gretl stressed that she reached this conclusion after sleepless nights and reading and rereading his letters. She added—expecting Norbert would presume otherwise—that she had made her decision “free of influence of others and quite alone.” She also admitted that she was so despondent that she could hardly recognize herself and, after signing herself “your dear Gretl,” addressed herself to Mrs. Stern. “I kiss your mother’s hand and am sorry to cause her grief as I love her,” she concluded, then mailed this letter by certified post.

  She resumed her diary four days later at the request of Moriz, who wanted her to transcribe all her correspondence from Norbert. Most likely, Moriz thought she should make her diary as complete a record as possible of this turning point in her life. He may also have thought she would find the transcription salutary because it would make her dwell on what had happened. In all, she had fifteen letters and cards to copy from the twenty days that Norbert and she had been apart, with three more letters already in the mail, as Norbert typically lost his nerve after challenging Gretl to express confidence in him. He wanted his “sweet, dear, treasure Gretelein” to know that he thought much more about her than she had ever realized, carried her photograph everywhere, and was planning to meet Hoffmann as soon as possible so that their apartment—and marriage—could proceed. “I l. y. s. m!” he exclaimed in abbreviated English. “I love you so much!”

  Gretl expected Norbert to respond to her letter breaking their engagement, but the only reply came from her own uncle Adolf, who became involved at the behest of Mrs. Stern, who was close to Adolf’s wife, Ida. When Norbert received Gretl’s letter, Mrs. Stern rang Ida and met her the following morning, while Norbert consulted Adolf in his chambers. Rather than just talk to Adolf, Norbert brought him Gretl’s letter, which Adolf might have recognized was something pivate. Instead, he scrutinized the letter as if it were a legal document and was dumbfounded by it. Adolf could not understand how Gretl could want to end her engagement yet feel lost as a result of doing so. He thought her letter typical of the illogicality of women.

  While Norbert wanted to send a telegram to Gretl acknowledging that their engagement was over, Adolf advised him to go to Alt Aussee to talk to her. Norbert responded that he had a higher duty to study telegraphy, which was vital to Austria’s war effort and could see him avoid being sent to the front and secure his rapid promotion. Adolf countered by offering to respond to Gretl’s letter, which meant he became Norbert’s advocate, even though Adolf probably saw himself as giving both Gretl and Norbert one last chance to resolve their differences. Adolf proposed that Ida and he meet Moriz and Gretl that Sunday in Bad Ischl, between Aussee and Vienna. If Gretl still loved Norbert as he still loved her, Norbert was willing to do anything and everything to regain her and achieve happiness with and through her. If Gretl no longer loved Norbert, he would not hold Gretl to her promise. If Norbert did not hear from Gretl within a week, he would accept that their engagement was over.

  Adolf wrote all this to Moriz because he had no confidence in nineteen-year-old Gretl. Presumably, Adolf expected that his letter would be read only by Moriz or he would not have been so critical of Gretl. But Moriz immediately showed Gretl the letter, which strengthened her resolve. She was outraged at Adolf’s assessment of her. She was incensed that Norbert had persuaded one of her relatives to act for him. “Had Norbert come here for a face-to-face discussion, everything could have been reconciled,” she observed improbably. As it was, Gretl not only thought Norbert arrogant, inattentive, insensitive, and moody, she now also despised him. “I am not sorry at all,” she wrote, even more convinced that she was right to break her engagement.

  The correspondence continued man to man with another letter that Moriz asked Gretl to copy, even though it was as critical of her as of Adolf. In most matters Moriz deferred to Adolf, to whom he owed his opportunities in Vienna. On this occasion, Moriz declared he might have expected Adolf’s letter from a twenty-year-old but never from a man of Adolf’s experience. Moriz reminded Adolf that he should not have been shocked by the news since Moriz had told him from the outset that he was unhappy with Gretl’s choice. Moriz went on to blame himself for his weakness in not opposing Gretl’s engagement. He reiterated that Gretl had broken the engagement as a result of seeing for herself how things were.

  The result, Moriz maintained, was the best possible. Norbert was so petty, moody, and illogical that he could not imagine anyone being happily married to him, especially someone as impulsive as Gretl. If the repeated arguments between Norbert and Gretl did not demonstrate their incompatibility, Norbert’s unsuitability was plain from his failure to find the twenty-four hours to come to Alt Aussee to talk to Gretl. Moriz concluded that the last few days had provided him with more than enough excitement, Gretl was exhausted, and Hermine and he would be spending the weekend in Moravia. In short, Moriz did not want to discuss the matter further.

  Adolf was undeterred. Since Moriz would not bring Gretl to Bad Ischl, Adolf and Ida traveled to Alt Aussee for a family conference. Adolf began by analyzing Gretl’s letter, which Norbert and he had marked with red pencil, highlighting all the passages they thought unclear and confused. Ida went on to reveal that Mrs. Stern had cried all night and broken into a rash when she heard the news, while Norbert had cried like a child when he met Adolf in his chambers. Adolf explained that while Norbert thought Gretl had been acting strangely for weeks, he still loved her, was desperate to talk to her, and admitted that he had been insufficiently attentive and overly concerned about money. He also feared the gossip they would excite by breaking their engagement.

  Gretl was enraged to see how Norbert and Adolf had treated her letter, which she regarded as deeply personal. She was appalled that Adolf and Norbert had not just highlighted her inconsistencies but also defaced the original rather than annotating a copy. She was shocked to learn Adolf had told Norbert many things about her that she thought should never have gone beyond her family. She regretted only the embarrassment she was causing Moriz, Hermine, and Mrs. Stern and would herself suffer from gossip. Yet surely it was better to have discovered Norbert’s nature before she married him than to return to her parents’ house as a divorcée after two or three years.

  Moriz and Hermine helped Gretl to carry out her decision the following day by returning all those gifts of Norbert’s that she had with her in Alt Aussee. They included her engagement ring, a pearl ring, two brooches, a pendant and chain, two silver baskets, two enameled boxes, a silk bag, a doll, one Easter rabbit, two wooden boxes, an engraving, a framed photograph, a notebook, a calendar, six
books, and the Song of Hatred Against Italy. They filled a large box, which Gretl sent to Norbert in Vienna. By then, a small parcel from Norbert was in the mail and arrived in Alt Aussee the following day. It contained his engagement ring and a letter in which he relieved her of her promise, declared that further explanations and recriminations were pointless, wished her good luck with all his heart, and sent his best regards to her dear parents and sisters. “Thus finished my love,” Gretl wrote later that day. “God alone knows how much I have loved him and how little responsibility I bear for the outcome. He was not worth it.”

  Norbert sent Gretl only his ring because that was all he expected her to return. When he received the box from her, he returned everything the Gallias had given the Sterns. He began with an even bigger box that contained a packet of letters, two briefcases, a writing case, three portfolios, two books, a clock, a notebook, a spinning top, a pillow, two pincushions, a pearl handbag, and the six Hoffmann designs for the Untere Augartenstrasse. He followed with another parcel containing a walking stick with a gold top that Moriz and Hermine had given Mrs. Stern. He insured each parcel for 1,000 crowns (now about $8,300), a third of his annual income.

  The summer ended with Moriz and Hermine taking Gretl, Käthe, and Lene to Prague, where, despite their conversion to Catholicism, they immediately embarked on Jewish tourism with a Jewish guide. While the American essayist James Huneker thought Prague’s Jewish sites were to be visited only “if you should happen to be in the mood antiquarian or ethnographical,” they were the Gallias’ priority. They visited the Old-New Synagogue, the oldest Jewish building in central Europe. They went to the neighboring Jewish cemetery with its chaos of old headstones, where Gretl was impressed by the grave of the first Jewish Regierungsrat, whose title was hereditary, unlike that acquired by Moriz. They inspected the Charles Bridge, where Gretl was struck by the statue of Christ on the Cross, erected by the Prague Jew Elias Backoffen in 1696 as a punishment for allegedly engaging in blasphemy, which symbolically humiliated all Jews because of its acknowledgment in Hebrew of Christ as the Lord.