by Glass! Love!! Perpetual Motion!!!-A Paul Scheerbart Reader Josiah McElheny
shaking off deep-seated “prejudices” can take time.
This purely artistic activity, however, did not entirely erase the trains
of thought left over from January and February, and by the end of March
I was again drifting on the same current — but now it final y occurred to
me to attach the carriage (K) outside the spokeless wheel (Fig. 5). And so
now that pesky wheel c was eliminated.
That the construction stil involved a sort of balancing act — since the
weights of K and L had to be adjusted in such a way as to prevent the con-
struction from tipping to one side — did not worry me overmuch.
And so in April 1908 I arrived at Figure 6 — which I submitted
on 15 May 1908 to the Patent Office — not because I believed that I
had now solved the entire business — but in the hope of spurring further
development.
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And in this I was not deceived; someone drew my attention to the
considerable frictional resistance, for which reason I added to the system
a heavily weighted wheel s that simply sat atop the construction (Fig. 7).
Unfortunately I also added wheel d, which was not only superfluous — it
was also a major hindrance, as become clear later on.
The construction as a whole was now rather shaky — but I nonetheless
packed it al off to an engineer. He declared the system unstable, and so
I immediately rendered it stable (Fig. 8) by attaching g to a separate car-
riage M and, for factory applications, to a fixed bar (Fig. 9).
I handed this in to the Patent Office — and breathed a sigh of relief.
This was on 2 June 1908.
“Either it wil work,” I thought, “or it won’t work — there probably isn’t
a third option.”
And I was very glad that I would now “for the time being” not have to
concern myself any longer with this wheel business.
I even succeeded in nearly forgetting the whole affair for al of June and
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July; I wrote a large number of astral tales that al played out on other stars
or else in subterranean environments.
This was certainly one of the most delightful periods of my life; I’d
almost forgotten about Earth. My pecuniary state was wretched; but I
didn’t even feel it. I just kept explaining to my wife that our meager circum-
stances were a sign of better things to come. To be sure, I didn’t always
manage to convince her. But I was so happy — happy as one can only be
when constructing and dreaming up new worlds . . . .
For almost al of August I kept on writing my astralica, for I was stil
waiting to hear back from the Patent Office and the engineer.
But now the wheels began to stir once more. And I dug out the old
model and began to work with it again. I had said before that the thing
could only be made using cogwheels. Meanwhile — I thought it might work
even without cogs, and I tried it out with four very heavy wheels that I set
into the double sheet-metal wheel a as b and d (Fig. 10).
And now I was holding g in my hands — and saw that the thing real y
was moving — and in my opinion was moving perpetually. This transpired
on 14 August of the year 1908. It seemed to me that final y I had won.
• • •
Natural y, I wanted to try out Figure 11 right away. I sawed up a bunch
of egg crates.
In the merriest of spirits I gave myself the title “Head Mechanic” — but
it didn’t help — Figure 11 refused to work — and I didn’t know what to do
about it. Larger weights broke everything in two, and when I was merely
applying weight, the question was constantly present: “Are you sure you
aren’t pushing?”
And if I was honest with myself, I had to confess that merely applying
weight was not enough — you couldn’t help pushing involuntarily, just as
with table turning.
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Most unfortunately, someone happened to remark that I could also just
leave out wheel a — b positioned on top of d ought to work just as I’d
envisioned it.
And thus Figure 13 came about.
But I stil clung in principle to the spokeless wheel and went on to draw
Figure 12 for ships and airships.
This too I turned in to the Patent Office, and I was mightily pleased
that gravity could possibly also power the engine of a “bal oonless airship.”
A new method for executing the condemned occurred to me: the crim-
inal would be bound to an aeroplane of this sort with a gravity-driven
engine — the criminal would rise into the clouds, never to return — never
again — rising higher and higher for as long as the Earth’s gravitational force
remained in effect. This might also be a practical way to dispose of corpses.
But now I began to have doubts about the effectiveness of gravity in the
higher reaches of the Earth’s atmosphere — and suddenly it appeared to
me as clear as day that it was never permissible to speak of gravity in the
cosmic sense. It is a hypothesis that the planets and suns exert a gravita-
tional pul on one another — we do not, however, know how the stars relate
to one another. Al we know is that the apple fal s to the ground when it
breaks off its twig. The mysterious nature of gravity became “clear” to me.
Yes — clear! The only thing that wasn’t clear to me was how physicists
had been speaking of a physical gravitational force in the cosmos for cen-
turies on end.
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A sort of religious zeal surrounding this perpetual gravity exerted by
Earth began to blossom within me.
•
Figure 13 was then built by the engineer, with heavy iron wheels (and with
b and d as single wheels, and the wheel beneath g double) — and it failed
to work.
At first I was quite surprised and thought there must be some detail
obstructing it. This was on 26 October 26 1908.
Then, however, I flew into a rage, and it seemed to me that my excite-
ment was driving me to the point of outright frenzy — I cursed al manner
of things and comported myself in a manner not at al reasonable.
After twenty-four hours, this uproar subsided of its own accord.
And then I began in earnest to examine the entire wheel business from
al sides — day and night, I saw nothing but wheels before me — and
besides them, nothing at al .
I had already turned the thing over and over in my mind for al of Sep-
tember and October. But only now, after the complete debacle, did my real
work begin. I began to produce better models with smaller wheels, rods,
and screws — and worked as a craftsman does — incessantly.
Figure 14 was executed quite correctly by me at the beginning of
November — and this model also failed to work.
But my despair lasted only a few hours, after which I had a sheet-metal
version made of Figure 15 — only to see my hopes dashed yet again.
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• • •
By the end of November 1908 I had already spent three months occupied
exclusively with these wheels, and I realized that this was truly enough to
drive a person mad; I was no longer capable of applying my thoughts to
any o
ther object.
The sufferings my wife endured during this period were at times quite
ghastly. Whenever a model failed to work, fits of rage ensued, and in the
end I was forced to sketch my eternal wheels in secret.
“Listen, I can’t stand to hear the word wheel anymore,” my wife often
said; “I feel sick whenever you utter the word.”
And in truth the whole business was rather depressing, and I could cer-
tainly empathize with her, but I just couldn’t escape the grip of these “wheels.”
And it was most peculiar that I couldn’t figure out why the models failed
to work. I put no store in any of the speeches made by the physicists and
engineers, since they offered me nothing solid to hang on to; their talk of
forces was simply incomprehensible to me. I found it thoroughly unedifying
to be groping about in an atmosphere utterly foreign to me. But I wasn’t
expecting any help from physicists.
I imagined that despite it al I would stil manage to unravel the
knot — with blind fanaticism I was gradual y coming to believe in the suc-
cess of my endeavor.
And so I kept leaping over every obstacle, indulging in the most cheer-
ful visions of the future, which were starting to seem quite cheerful.
I shal attach a few sketches dating from this period; the first ones were
probably written in September:
The Mil ionaire Uncle
People are always tel ing me that my entire system keeps failing because of
the “fasteners”; they say that if I didn’t have to “fasten” g to a carriage in
accordance with Figure 10, everything would work.
I am, however, by no means convinced of the correctness of this view.
Probably everything is quite different. The wheels in Figure 10 were per-
petual y pushing — and so they must be able to push a carriage. Surely I’ll
figure it out.
In any case, I shal be a mil ionaire uncle if it works.
Twenty nations wil surely be able to deliver an average of thirty mil ion
a year to the inventor — at least for the customary fifteen years. Twenty
times thirty million makes six hundred million — this would be the sum
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for the Earth’s national institutions, particularly for the national rail and
steamer routes.
Somewhat more — approximately eight hundred million — could be
delivered to the inventor by the col ectivity of private institutions on Earth.
This would “represent” an income of fourteen hundred million for the
inventor.
A handsome sum!
If you consider that the Czar of Russia has only thirty-six million a
year to “consume,” you can easily imagine what importance I would soon
acquire — if it works.
They would have to cal me Super-Mil ionaire Uncle.
No doubt a pretty little utopia could emerge if one were to imagine
the life of a supreme potentate of this sort; but I shal not write this uto-
pia — because even here I can see only the downside; I would be a dis-
tributor of money — and nothing more. And in point of fact I cannot see
why I should be expected to find the role of glorified pay-clerk particularly
edifying; besides which — it just wouldn’t suit me.
The pleasures I would be able to buy myself for fourteen hundred mil-
lion a year strike me as rather paltry. These enormous sums would “chain”
me to the others, after al . And I don’t like to be pinned down.
Besides which, al these pleasures look quite childish to me. Being eager
to chase after pleasures is most definitely the sign of a dilettante — a person
of that kind always needs to be enjoying something or other — since try
as he might, he cannot bring himself to actual y create something (which
counts for a bit more than mere pleasures).
True, I could found, support, and cultivate a great number of observa-
tories, superior theaters, superior publishing houses, superior newspapers,
and superior architectural exhibitions, along with other superior institutions.
But — then I wouldn’t be able to write another line — or pursue any of
my own projects — I’d have to spend sixteen hours a day just listening to
the discourses of my advisors — and soon I would no doubt be in such a
state as to be unable to differentiate between red and blue.
In this way, miserably, I would be done in.
And everyone I “supported” with the help of these comfortably flowing
masses of money — they too would soon be “done for” — as it turns out
that “enjoyment” is exhausting.
Amen!
To be sure, some great larks could be arranged — for instance, it has
already occurred to me that I might entrust to my wife the task of overseeing
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central kitchens in which everything would be dished up for free — — —
but only to “natives.” In the Grunewald district on the outskirts of Berlin,
for example, a central kitchen of this sort would not find many takers — nor
would it in Monaco.
These are mere larks — of course they are!
For the life of me, I don’t see why they should be put into practice in
naked reality — truly I don’t!
But Now Comes the Great Calamity
Financial institutions are institutions with which, strictly speaking, I am
utterly unfamiliar. If, however, my wheel works, I shal make their acquain-
tance. But — this acquaintance wil not be a pleasant one.
The reception I expect to receive wil not be benevolent. For — I’m
quite used to this — whenever I show my face anywhere, massive bank-
ruptcy is never far behind. And assuming the wheel works, al financial
institutions — every last one of them — wil beyond a shadow of a doubt be
subject to a devastating crash.
When dough becomes worthless overnight, the banks lose bil ions.
— — —
Even the pricey automobile industry wil lose al value.
And then the most enormous social upheavals must fol ow. Al the rev-
olutionaries wil cry hurrah and huzzah and get terribly drunk.
And every arch-revolutionary wil proclaim with great ceremony: “From
the ridiculous to the sublime is but a step.”
It wil be a great revolution for gold.
Gold isn’t important just because children, savages, and ravens always
grasp at shiny things — gold is important because it is very strongly attracted
to the Earth and is therefore excel ently suited to weight a Perpet system.
A revaluation of gold is therefore certain to occur, and no one wil be
wil ing to work any longer for this shiny, artistical y so utterly worthless,
unappealing metal.
And so it might wel come to pass that you wil scarcely be able to buy
a glass of beer for twenty marks.
And there wil be a great deal to laugh about — which I find highly
appealing, since laughter always appears to be quite wel suited to promote
digestion.
Above al it pleases me that my income of four million a day wil be — a
chimera.
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Who’s supposed to pay me if al the financial institutions declare
bankruptcy?
This “sublime” revolution! Many, many novelists wil want to los
e no
time depicting it.
I myself shal refrain from doing so, since I have never yet done what a
great many others are already doing . . . . .
Antiquated Work
For as long as humankind has existed, work has always been highly prized.
And the worker has always been quite proud of al his labor and activity.
The do-nothing artist and the impractical poet have always been looked
down on by bona fide workers.
Now this is al going to change.
The worker wil unfortunately be forced to realize that al his laborious
humdrum activity is utterly superfluous, since Earth can provide for al our
needs without assistance, thanks to its perpetual work of attraction.
The pride of the worker, then, wil also be a thing of the past.
And so final y the social question can be put to rest.
I wonder what the Social Democrats wil have to say about this great
Revolution of Work!
Oh — the stuff of comedies wherever you turn.
But I feel sorry for the satirists, for they too wil suddenly be faced with
their own superfluity.
The Perpet would also constitute an enormous humiliation for
humankind.
The star Earth, after al , is — — — oppressively magnificent.
“Everything” speaks to us in its own language, we just have to learn to
understand that language.
And this is what the star Earth wil say to mankind:
“What are you getting so worked up about? There’s no need for you
to wear yourselves to the bone performing simple labor. You wil no longer
have to inveigh against the sorrows of life on Earth. Nor do you have the
right any longer to feel proud of the work of your own little hands. Now
that you have ‘discovered’ the Perpet, you have no choice but to realize that
I am the one who does Everything for you. Before, you never even noticed
that for millennia on end I have been uninterruptedly performing the most
monstrous plethora of labors. And now final y you have the chance, for
once, to be something more than indifferent beasts. You can create a world
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in your imaginations just as the gods do. What I have done for you — is
more than you even suspect. Worship me. I am the godhead to whom you
owe everything — everything — everything!”
