WALTER ABISH
61
and condescending manner, when I mentioned that I intended to marry
Paula. Father would have admired her guts, I said. He had a lot of
guts, but little else, said Helmut, otherwise he would have headed for
Switzerland. Helmut had met Paula only for several hours. What was it
that he could discern in her that I failed to see?
Answer.
Answer immediately.
The characters in my books can be said to be free of emotional
disturbances, free of emotional impairments. They meet here and there,
in parks or public rallies and, without spending too much time
analyzing their own needs, allow their brains
i
brief respite, as they
embrace each Olher in bed. You're a pretty good lover, but are you able
to
blow up a police station, asked Paula.
What constitutes an emotional impairment?
An inner turmoil, an absence of serenity, an unresolved entangle–
ment, self-doubt, self-hatred may be due
to
nothing more serious than a
person's inability to appreciate the idyllic weather.
In this instance it is the perfect weather in Wurtenburg and its
immediate surroundings. Now, at this moment, along with the entire
population of Wurtenburg (approximately 125,968 according
to
the
latest census), I am experiencing the fine weather. I am completely
relaxed and have nothing but the weather on my mind. I do not expect
ever
to
hear from Marie-Jean Filebra, or from my former wife, Paula
Hargenau, the one, I assume, still in Paris, the other now free to go
wherever she chooses.
Repeat.
The brain keeps persisting that it can survive on images alone.
Helmut, on meeting me at the airport on my return from Paris,
promptly informed me that Paula was living in Geneva. He seemed
put out when I burst into laughter, uncontrollable laughter. Geneva?
What is she doing in Geneva? He smiled awkwardly, then shrugged his
shoulders. I guess she's fond of the place.
Paula. In Geneva. Impossible.
Apparently I was mistaken. I still don't know what she's up to in
Geneva, and have no intention of Inquiring. I wouldn 't want to
