Franz pushed his way in. It was the interval just then. The long room was bursting at the seams, 90 per cent men with men in flat caps, they won’t take them off. Three lamps on the ceiling have red covers. At the front a yellow piano with parcels on top of it. The Wurlitzer makes a continual racket. Then it goes dark and the film runs. A goose-girl is to be educated, it’s never made clear why. She wiped her nose with her hand, she stood on the steps and scratched her backside, laughter all round the cinema. It struck Franz as absolutely wonderful when the sniggering started around him. Free people, just folk enjoying themselves, nobody could say anything against that, wonderful, lovely and I’m in the middle of it all! Then it continued. The fine baron had a mistress who lay down on a hammock stretching her legs straight upwards as she did so. She had drawers on. What a carry-on! And what people made out of dirty little Lisa the goose- girl who licked all the plates. The one with the slender legs flickered on again. The baron had left her alone, now she tipped out of the hammock and was thrown into the grass, she lay there a long time. Franz stared at the screen, another picture was there already, he saw her still tipping out of the hammock and lying on the grass for a long time. He chewed his tongue, dash it all what was that? Then, when a man, the goose-girl’s lover, embraced this fine woman, a warm flush spread over the skin on his chest as if he had embraced her himself. It flooded over him and made him weak.
A woman. (There are other things to be had besides trouble and fear. Why am I bothering with all this rubbish? Some air, hell a woman!) Why hadn’t he thought of that? You stand at the cell window and look through the bars onto the yard. Sometimes women go past, visitors or children or one coming to clean for the guv’ner. How they all stand at the windows, the inmates and look, men at every window, gobbling up each woman. An officer once had a 14-day visit from his wife from Eberswalde, before that he had only travelled over to her every 14 days, now she really made the most of the time, at work his head drooped with fatigue, he could scarcely walk any more.
Franz was already outside in the street in the rain. What shall we do? I’m free. I have to have a woman. I just have to. Pleasure is sweet, life outside is great. Now if I can just get a grip and walk. His legs were giving way under him, no ground beneath him. Then, at the corner of Kaiser-Wilhelm-Strasse, behind the market trailers, one appeared , and he went and stood next to her straight away, never mind what she’s like. Crikey, we’re getting cold feet, how did that happen. Off he went with her, bit open his lower lip out of sheer terror, if you live very far away I’m not coming. It was only across Bülowplatz past the fences, through the entrance of a house, into a yard, down six steps. She turned round, laughing: “Heavens, don’t be so eager love, you’ll fall on top of me head.” When she had closed the door behind her he made a grab for her. “Christ, let me put me brolly down first.” He squeezed, pinched, clutched at her, rubbed his hands over her coat, he still had his hat on; irritated, she dropped the umbrella: “Good ’eavens, let go of me”, he groaned, gave a phoney deceitful smile: “What’s up then?” “You’re ripping me outfit to bits. Do you fancy forking out for another. Thought not. Nobody gives the likes of us something for nothing.” As he did not let go of her: “I can’t breathe stupid. Have you gone barmy?”
She was fat and slow, small, he had to give her the three marks first, which she placed carefully in the chest of drawers, she put the key in her pocket. Following her every movement with his eyes: “You see I did time for a few years, fatty. Out of town, Tegel, where else.” “Where?” “Tegel. Where else.”
The flabby tart guffawed. She unbuttoned the top of her blouse. There were once two royal children, they loved one another so much.4 Radetzky’s dog with the sausage o’er the gutter jumps.5 She grabbed him, pressed him to her. Chuck, chuck, dead, my chicken, chuck, chuck, dead my cock.6
Soon his face was dripping with sweat, he groaned. “Now then, why the groaning?” “What bloke is walking about next door?” “It’s not a bloke, it’s me landlady.” “What’s she doin’ then?” “What’s she supposed to be doing. That’s where her kitchen is.” “All right. She can just stop walkin’ about though. What’s she doing, walkin’ about now. I can’t stand it.” “Blimey, I’ll go and tell her not to then.” What a sweaty bloke, we’ll be right glad to be shut of ’im, the old tosser, I’ll soon throw him out. She knocked at the next door: “Mrs. Priese, can you just shush a few minutes, I have to speak to a gentleman now, it’s important.” There, now we’ve managed it, O my dear country know no fear,7 come to my heart,8 but you’ll be chucked out soon.
With her head on the pillow she was thinking: the yellow shoes can be re-soled properly again, Kitty’s new bloke will do it for two marks if she’s no objections, I won’t pinch him off of her, he can dye them brown for me to match the brown blouse, it’s just an old rag now, about good enough as a tea-cosy, we’ll have to give its ribbons a good ironing, I’ll tell Mrs. Priese straight away, she’ll still have a fire on, what’s she cooking today I wonder. She sniffed. Fresh herrings.
Lines of verse ran through his head, round and round, incomprehensible: Cooking soup, Mistress Stone, have you got a spoon, Mistress Stone, Cooking noodles, Mistress Stone, give me some noodles, Mistress Stone. I fall down and I bounce up. He gave a loud groan: “Don’t you like me, then?” “Why not, come here, you can always get love for a tanner.” He fell down on the bed, grunted, groaned. She rubbed her neck: “I’m splitting my sides. Just stay put. It doesn’t bother me.” She laughed, raised her fat arms, stuck her feet with stockings on out of the bed: “There’s nothin’ I can do about it.”
Out, get out into the street! Air! Still raining. Now what’s up? I’ve got to get myself another. Have a good sleep first. Franz, whatever’s the matter with you?”
Sexual potency is the result of the combined action of 1. the internal secretory system, 2. the nervous system, and 3. the sexual apparatus. The glands involved in potency are: pituitary gland, thyroid gland, suprarenal gland, prostate gland, spermatic gland, epididymis. Within this system the gonad is predominant. The whole of the sexual apparatus from the cortex cerebri to the genitals is charged with the matter prepared by the gonad. The erotic sensation causes the erotic tension of the cortex to be released, the current travels as erotic arousal from the cortex cerebri to the control centre in the diencephalon. The arousal moves downwards to the spinal chord. It is not unrestricted, as before it leaves the brain it has to pass the brakes, the inhibitions, those largely psychological inhibitions which, as moral scruples, lack of self-confidence, fear of disgrace, fear of infection and fear of pregnancy, and other such things, play a large part.
Excerpt 2
Roaring trade trafficking young girls
One night the man in the army overcoat, he was called Reinhold, starts conversing or rather stammering much more, but faster and more smoothly; he was grumbling about women. Franz split his sides laughing, the lad really took women seriously. He’d never have thought it of him; so he’s nuts too, they were all nuts here, some in one way, some in another, nobody was quite right in the head. The lad was in love with the wife of a driver, a deliverer’s mate at a brewery, she had already run away from her husband because of him, and the snag was that now Reinhold didn’t want her any more. Franz snorted with amusement, the lad was too funny for words: “Give ’er the push then.” The lad stammered and he had a terrible look in his eyes: “But that’s so difficult. Women wouldn’t understand even if you put it in writing.” “Well have you put it in writing to her Reinhold?” The latter stammered, spat and turned away: “I’ve told her a hundred times. She says she doesn’t understand it. I must be mad. She just can’t understand such a thing. And now I’ve to keep her till I peg out.” “Well maybe so.” “She says so too.” Franz roared with laughter, Reinhold got annoyed: “Oh don’t be so stupid.” No, Franz just didn’t get it, a smart lad like him, goes into the gasworks with some dynamite and now there he sits ready to give up the ghost. “Take her off my hands”, stammered Reinhold. Franz thumped the table in sheer delight: “And what am I going to do with her?” “Well you can give her the push.” At that Franz was overjoyed: “I’ll do it as a favour, you can rely on me, Reinhold, but they’ll stick you back in nappies yet.” “Take a look at her and then let me know.” They were both satisfied.
Fränze came waltzing round to Franz Biberkopf’s at noon the next day. When he heard that her name was Fränze he was happy immediately; they were really well suited, his name’s Franz you see. Reinhold had asked her to bring Biberkopf a pair of stout boots; that’s his thirty pieces of silver, Franz laughed to himself, ten shillings worth. And to think she’s brought me it herself as well! That Reinhold really is a cheeky so-and-so. Well, he thought, one good turn deserves another, and that night he went with her to look for Reinhold, who, according to plan, was not to be found, whereupon a fit of rage from Fränze and a duet in his room to calm her down. Next morning the driver’s wife showed up at Reinhold’s, who managed not to stammer: Nay, he needn’t go to any bother, she didn’t need him any more, she’d found somebody else. But she’s not telling him who it is, not for anything. And she’s scarcely through the door when Franz turns up at Reinhold’s with his new boots on, which are not too big any more because he’s wearing two pairs of woollen socks, and they throw their arms round each other and slap each other on the back. “I really am going to do you a favour”, Franz didn’t want any medals for it.
