96
PARTISAN
I~EV I EW
Hi s di ary gives an exact account of hi s " las t adventure," w hi ch had at
its center a young wa iter. In th e ph oto o f th e young man o ne sees an
unprepossessing face, th e ve ry sight o f whi ch, howeve r, was eno ugh to
make th e hea rt of th e wo rld-renown ed o ld man palpitate nervou sly. Later,
after movin g to N ew Yo rk , th e waiter confessed th at he had had no idea
o f what he was sa id to have provoked. The autho r po nders the " injusti ce
in C upid 's aim ": whil e " th o usa nds" wo uld " reli sh" a sho rt conversa ti on
w ith him , would view it as a "joy and a di stin cti o n," thi s man can o nl y
respo nd to him w i th a wa iter's fri endlin ess. We see here a curi o us exam–
pl e of love's foll y: after returnin g home the auth o r lo ngs fo r a letter from
hi s wa iter-someone fo r whom "writin g li sl naturall y di ffic ult"-in
response
to
hi s own wa rm , yet utterl y proper, no te.
Maintaining di stance was an integral part of these eroti c experiences . In
one entry the autho r, hav ing just described the tremendo us depth of hi s
emotio n, writes, "was happy to be alone, fi'ee of hi s proximity." And later he
asserts that a " tes t to see how fa r Ith e waiter] would be willing" would be
who lly in consistent w ith a li fe that demands secrecy-thus he is abl e to
" return to work as a substitute fo r joy." Thi s need to get back
to
work was
behind everything, and it probabl y helps explain hi s perfect presence o f mind
during opportuni ti es for happin ess. The viewing, the seeing, was mos t
important. " [n your brea th my word takes fo rm." Thi s line from the love
sonnets o f Michelangel o haunted him , and he dec ided to w rite an essay on
them. He loved working on it but rea li zed somewhat later that the wo rk
wasn't parti cularl y successful ; th e subj ect matter was too cl ose to hi s own per–
sonal experiences. Goethe's encounter wi th Ulrike von Levetzow in
Mari enbad had also long preoccupi ed him , and he wanted to write about it,
but then di scarded th e idea fo r one mo re di stanced from himself:
Lottc in
VJ;eilllcr.
He once referred
to
Hblderlin's short, two-s tanza "Socrates und
Alcibi ades," as the world 's mos t beautiful love poem. And now, on th e occa–
sion of hi s final love, he recalls: " He w ho has pondered th e deepes t truths
loves what is most alive.. .And in the end the wi se / Will bow down to the
beautiful." A w isdom that surrenders to beauty, whi ch depends on uncon–
sc iuusll ess, was the fate of many grea t men, Thomas Mann among th em. Yet
he was woman- fri endly enough to di scard old idea ls: hi s desires did no t run
to
a prattling, prancing Gretchen . And as to homosexuality, whi ch in hi s case
could better be ca ll ed homoero ti cism, he never abandoned hi s characteri s–
ti ca lly severe standards. He read Andre G ide's j ournal and judged it harshly.
Gide expresses, he wro te, an all - too obvious, sexually aggressive behavior
towards young peopl e, "with no rega rd , no respect fo r them, with no hint o f
shame fo r hi s age, soull ess, in fac t loveless." Or is thi s really an o ld man's con–
demnation of every ero ti cism that crosses the bo undari es o f propriety? But
at one po int he bursts out: " How can anyone sleep w ith a man?"
