60
PARTISAN REVIEW
father is one of Paula, my former wife, Paula who calml y informed me
that some of our friends had stashed a coupl e of cases of World War II
hand grenades in the cellar. She said it quite casuall y, as if they were
cases of champagne. I in turn admired her incredible coolness and
courage. Like my father who removed the swas tika in 1942, she be–
lieved in causes, and temporary solutions.
Now that I know where she is, why don't I make an efforlto get in
touch with her?
Answer.
Answer immediately.
4.
A glorious summer. A glorious German summer.
Repeat.
Sometimes I feel as if the brain has become addicted to repetitions,
needing to hear everything repeated once, then twice, in order to be
certain that the statement is not false or misl eading. I find myself
repeating to myself what I intend to do next, even though I would be
the first to acknowledge that repetition precludes the attainment of
perfection, or, as the American philosopher Whitehead puts it: Perfec–
tion does not invite repetition.
My brain says: repeat.
The summer this year is really quite exceptional.
It
is almost (ta ke
note of the
almost)
perfect. Not too hot during the daytime, and not
too cool at night. I may be imagining this, but the satisfied looks on the
faces of the peopl e I see daily must refl ect, I am convinced, their
contentedness with the weather and, in turn, with their pleasant and
harmonious surroundings and, in turn, with their more or less amiable
friends and relatives and in turn, with the intimate affairs tha t are now
and then bound to occur, particularly when the person in question is
not overly hampered by discontent, or some emotional disturbance,
something that might impair his or her ability to judge people, and ,
among other things, to respond correctly to a sexual overture when it is
made.
I met Paula in the Englischer Garten in Munich. I was bleeding
slightly from a cut I had received when a policeman punched me in the
face at the public rally in which a group of my friends and I had
participated. Have you ever felt the temptation to blow up a police
station, she asked me. I just laughed at the time.
You've taken leave of your senses, said Helmut in hi s pompous
