204
PARTISAN REVIEW
known and the singing of German Christmas songs forbidden by
law. Carl declared himself ready to undertake hard physical labor.
Since then he has been able to dispense with secrecy because
of a complete and very sudden change which has taken place
in
my uncle. This happened at such a disagreeable level that we have
really had cause to be disconcerted. That sober citizen, of whom
it could be said that he was as stubborn as he was good and kind,
was observed performing actions that are neither more nor less
than immoral and will remain so as long as the world endures.
Things became known about him, testified to by witnesses, that can
only be described by the word adultery. And the most dreadful
thing is that he no longer denies them, but claims for himself the
right to live in circumstances and in relationships that make special
legislation seem justifiable. Awkwardly enough, this sudden change
became evident just at the time when the second hearing of the two
parish priests was called. My Uncle Franz seems to have made such
a deplorable impression as a witness, as disguised plaintiff indeed, that
it must be ascribed to him alone that the second hearing turned out
favorably for the two priests. But in the meantime all this had
become a matter of indifference to Uncle Franz: his downfall
is
complete, already accomplished.
He too was the first to hit upon the shocking idea of having
himself represented by an actor at the evening celebration. He had
found an unemployed
bon vivant,
who for two weeks imitated him
so admirably that not even his wife noticed the impersonation. Nor
did his children notice it either. It was one of the grandchildren who,
during a pause in the singing, suddenly shouted: "Grandpapa has on
socks with rings," and triumphantly raised the
bon vivant's
trouser
leg. This scene must have been terrifying for the poor artist; the
family, too, was upset and to avoid disaster struck up a song, as
they had done so often before in critical situations. After my aunt
had gone to bed, the identity of the artist was quickly established. It
was the signal for almost complete collapse.
However one must bear in mind that a year and a half
is
a
long time, and it was mid-summer again, the time when participa–
tion
in
the play
is
hardest on my relations. Listless in the heat, they
nibble at sand tarts and ginger cookies, smile vacantly while they
crack dried-out nuts, listen to the indefatigable hammering of the
