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PARTISAN REVIEW
respect significant that Benjamin failed to impress him enough to re–
appear as a fictional character in any of the stories based on Chris–
topher's own life in Berlin .
Perhaps because Christopher discouraged us from further
meetings with Benjamin, I made no attempt to see him again in
Berlin. Even in the best of circumstances, Benjamin was rarely, I
admit, a very cheerful or amusing conversationalist. When I chanced
to meet him again a few years later as a refugee in Paris, he proved
to be even gloomier and more pedantic than on the occasion of our
first meeting in Berlin.
Benjamin now had written to my friend Leon Pierre-Quint, the
author of the first critical work on Proust, written and originally
published in French before the posthumous publication of the con–
cluding volumes of
Remembrance of Things Past.
Although forced to
abandon his project of translating Proust into German now that, as a
Jew, he no longer would be allowed to publish in Nazi Germany his
translation of a half-Jewish author such as Proust, Benjamin was still
interested in Proust's life and writings and was anxious to meet and
consult Leon as an expert in this field.
Not being sure of Benjamin's ability to express himself clearly
in French or to understand French, or of his own ability to under–
stand Benjamin's German or to express himself clearly in German,
Leon asked me to be present at their meeting in his home so as to be
available, if necessary, as their interpreter. But Leon neglected to in–
form me of the name of the German writer with whom he had this
appointment, so that both Benjamin and I were quite surprised to be
thus meeting again.
Both Benjamin's French and Leon's German proved to be suffi–
ciently fluent for their exchange of ideas and information. To me,
the contrast between Leon's slightly dandified manner and dress and
Benjamin's dowdy and drab appearance was striking. Although they
both had equally pale complexions, Benjamin's was that of a care–
worn man who spends all his days in dusty and air-polluted libraries,
all too rarely exposed to sunshine and fresh air, while Leon's, as he
nervously dangled his monocle on its black silk cord, was obviously
nurtured, although no more weathered, on the very best and most
expensive of shaving creams and toilet waters.
In the course of their conversation, Benjamin mentioned that
he was now working in Paris on another project: a book, which he
never completed before his death, on the theme of "Paris as the
Capital of the Nineteenth Century ." First published under this title
