Perlefter

  ‘One of the most significant European authors of the twentieth century’ – Sunday Times

  ‘Roth has earned his place among the giants of modern German literature.’ – Jewish Chronicle

  ‘A concise, powerful writer who brilliantly evoked the social, political and intellectual turmoil of his era’ – Publishers Weekly

  ‘Roth is a very fine writer indeed.’ – Angela Carter, Guardian

  Now available for the first time in English, Perlefter: The Story of a Bourgeois is a novel from between 1928 and 1930 discovered among Joseph Roth’s papers decades after his death.

  Alexander Perlefter is a well-to-do Austrian Jewish urbanite with whom the narrator, his relative Naphtali Kroj, has come to live after being orphaned. In the Perlefter household Kroj finds a colourful cast of characters that includes Perlefter’s emotionally fragile wife, his four children (foolish Alfred, hapless Karoline, flamboyant Julie and flighty Margarete) and a pretty maid with whom Kroj becomes hopelessly smitten. Kroj watches with amusement as Perlefter tries to advance his career, marry off his children and fend off a newly arrived distant cousin, the brusque ex-wrestler Leo Bidak.

  Perlefter represents Roth at the very peak of his literary powers, penned just after The Silent Prophet and just before his masterpieces Job and The Radetzky March. Rich in irony and exemplary of Roth’s keen powers of social and political observation, Perlefter is an important addition to the Roth canon in English.

  Joseph Roth, c. 1932

  JOSEPH ROTH was born in Brody, Galicia – then part of Austria-Hungary and now in Ukraine – in 1894. He served in the Austrian Army between 1916 and 1918 and worked as a journalist from 1923 to 1932 in Berlin and Vienna. When the Nazis came to power in 1933 he emigrated to Paris, where he drank himself into an early grave in 1939.

  Roth also wrote The Antichrist, The Hundred Days, Weights and Measures, Flight Without End and The Silent Prophet, which have also been published by Peter Owen, as well as The Radetzky March, String of Pearls and The Legend of the Holy Drinker.

  TRANSLATOR’S NOTE

  While I was hard at work translating Joseph Roth’s The Hundred Days I vowed it would be my last Roth translation. But all the while the question lurked in the back of my mind – dare I attempt one final challenge? Should I take on Perlefter? Was it a worthwhile endeavour? Indeed, it existed in German, but the effort required by Kiepenheuer & Witsch to publish it was limited to deciphering and transcribing Roth’s longhand. Translation is another story entirely.

  Was this partial manuscript, one that Roth had abandoned ten years before he died, one that was probably between halfway and two-thirds completed, worthy of publication in English? It helped somewhat knowing that Roberto Bravo de la Varga had deemed it a worthy project to translate Perlefter into Spanish (published in 2006 together with Strawberries, which, incidentally, also features a character named Napthali Kroj). Was there anything inherently wrong with translating an unfinished work?

  The first thing that came to mind as I considered the latter question was Franz Kafka, who had instructed that all his manuscripts be burned after his death. Max Brod ignored his instructions, and only because of that do we have Kafka’s rich literary legacy available to us today. But Roth, unlike Kafka, was a successful writer during his lifetime, with many books to his credit and an established literary reputation. Would Perlefter contribute anything positive to the existing Roth oeuvre in English? I began to read the book, and I soon discovered that the answer was a resounding yes.

  It is impossible to know how much refinement and revision the existing chapters of Perlefter would have gone through had the book been finished. The mere fact that it remained unfinished means that the previous question may be moot. A sort of ‘what-if’ line of questioning that can only lead to frustration. In effect, every translator is an editor, negotiating the nuances between two languages and making the transition as smooth as possible. But a translator’s challenge is even greater than usual with such a manuscript. A translator must strive to bring a work into its new language with elegance and style to make it readable and digestible without completely rewriting or changing the meaning. So any curt or cryptic moments had to remain so. The published German book as it stands is certainly surprisingly cohesive, but there are clearly moments when the narrative feels rushed and dismissive or lacking in detail, as if parts of Perlefter were more or less an outline. I have not crossed any lines here, in the translation of this unfinished book. I have approached the project the same way that I approached my other two Roth translations – to create the English version of Roth’s distinct voice.

  I would like to thank Peter Owen and Antonia Owen for their belief in this important project, as well as Simon Smith, my excellent editor, and Michael O’Connell.

  INTRODUCTION

  Joseph Roth’s (1894-1939) prodigious output included numerous novels, novellas, short stories and newspaper articles in the space of only sixteen years between 1923 and 1939. Born Moses Joseph Roth of Jewish parentage in the town of Brody, Galicia (present-day Ukraine), about fifty-four miles north-east of present-day Lviv (then called Lemberg), Roth was a product of the Austro-Hungarian Empire who first lived in Vienna then moved to Berlin. After Hitler came to power in early 1933 Roth fled Germany permanently, spending the rest of his life living out of hotels in France and other locales in Western Europe. Generally speaking, his life before 1933 was happier than his life post-exile, although use of the word ‘happy’ to describe Roth might be misleading. Burdened by financial worries and increasingly dependent on alcohol, he became an old man while still in his thirties (a fact he freely and frequently admitted and bemoaned) and died at the age of forty-four in 1939.

  Much of Roth’s fascinating oeuvre has been made available to the English-speaking world only in the past few decades. The last of Roth’s completed works were brought back into print in English by Peter Owen in 2010 (The Antichrist) and 2011 (The Hundred Days). Perlefter: Die Geschichte eines Burger, a never-completed novel fragment discovered among Roth’s papers decades after his death and first published in German in the 1970s, was until now the only book-length Roth work not available in English. (Perlefter is not the only unfinished Roth manuscript discovered and published posthumously; Der stumme Prophet, aka The Silent Prophet, which he worked on between 1927 and 1929, was not published for the first time until the 1960s.)

  Although the incomplete Perlefter cannot compare to Roth’s greatest masterpieces such as Job or The Radetzky March, it does offer a glimpse at Roth at the peak of his powers. Perlefter is rich in irony and humour. As in many of his best works, Perlefter touches upon some of his favourite topics: capitalism, Communism, monarchy, war, revolution and wealth/poverty. Not especially a plot-driven book, Perlefter is more of a character study, and Roth does an excellent job painting a portrait of an early-twentieth-century bourgeois man.

  A product and representative of the increasingly complex modern upper-middle-class world in which he lives, Alexander Perlefter is an enigma of sorts. He is a brave coward and a wasteful miser; a calculating fool and a vengeful forgiver. He enjoys complaining about how miserable he is, and when he should be happy he seems miserable. What seem to be his most heartfelt emotions are actually just an act. He is ever insecure, easily jealous and eager to please … himself. His uncertain eye colour says it all really. His eyes are distinct in their indistinction. They contain little flecks of every imaginable hue. This is a mysterious and indecisive man, one who does not like to commit, an Alexander the Not-so-Great in the narrator Naphtali Kroj’s mind.

  Kroj himself makes for an interesting character. At times he seems to be almost an omniscient narrator, but his detailed narration is more likely a product of his closeness to the Perlefter family than special powers bestowed upon him by the
author. Kroj walks a fine line between neutral narrator and participant character. He lurks behind the scenes for a while and then emerges at the forefront several times – for example, during his scenes with Henriette, his argument with Perlefter on the legal system, his visit to the cobbler and his presence at key events such as Perlefter’s flight. These infusions of Kroj are welcome; he may be the most likeable (and level-headed) character in the book. Although the other characters themselves are mostly blind to their own faults and the ironies of their middle-class lives Kroj seems to see through it all, expressing modesty and even disappointment about himself and revealing embarrassment when bringing up sensitive subjects such as Perlefter’s secret desires. Kroj’s relationship with the Perlefter household is fairly intimate. We must assume that after he arrived as a minor he lived with Perlefter for a few years and forged a bond with each member of the household. Kroj reveals he had been at one time a messenger for Perlefter, that he had played with the Perlefter children and that as an adult he still visited the household regularly. He was trusted enough to have been asked to look in on the vacant house while the family was away.

  Of the major players in the book, the one who is least clearly described is Frau Perlefter. We never even learn her first name. Neither do we get a physical description either (aside from ‘an awkward girl, no longer young and not pretty’); we get to see her personality mainly through her actions not through the narrator’s or Perlefter’s description. She seems to be quite weak and prone to outbursts; the only sign we get of her cunning is early on, via flashback, when Kroj mentions that Perlefter ‘fathered children against his will’. She lurks in the background through the rest of the book, coming forth to burst into tears once in a while or feel ill. Although Perlefter himself would like to claim the title, Frau Perlefter seems to be the family martyr. It is interesting to note that not long before Roth began writing Perlefter his wife began to exhibit the signs of the schizophrenia that would ultimately lead her being institutionalized. It is not inconceivable that some of Frau Perlefter’s behaviour is drawn from that which Roth observed in his own wife.

  The Perlefter children are comically drawn. They are not given the same detailed consideration as Perlefter himself, but Roth is masterful at accomplishing much in a short space. Each Perlefter child has his or her own particular faults (whether foolishness or vanity or even intelligence), and, although seemingly hopeless at first, each one seems to achieve some measure of maturity and redemption by the close of Chapter VII. Roth devotes the most energy to Fredy, who is a classic wealthy and indifferent bourgeois, as are his friends.

  In Perlefter affluence leads not to happiness but to insecurity, indecision, dissatisfaction and even boredom. Perlefter desires to marry off his children well, yet when he achieves this dream and his son marries into a very wealthy family under the surface he is actually not happy; he is jealous. Herr Kofritz is too rich, too influential, and it annoys Perlefter to have to brag about this new in-law. And in what must also be bothersome to Perlefter, Herr Kofritz steals Fredy away by taking the young man into his thriving leather business.

  Yes, happiness is elusive for the entire Perlefter clan. The only one who seems happy in the book is Leo Bidak, who does not let anything ruin his mood (Kroj would be happy if only he could be with Henriette). Leo Bidak is decidedly not bourgeois. He has not achieved that status, not even with his half-house, and his lack of business skills and participation in socialist activities further removes him from bourgeois status. Bidak’s ineptitude with money causes him to lose his half of the house. Life has scoffed at Leo Bidak, yet he does not care.

  In total, the original manuscript of Perlefter consists of thirty-two pages. Written in Roth’s characteristic tiny handwriting, it is messy in spots, over-inked in some places and faint and faded in other spots. Yet, considering its status as an unfinished work it is surprisingly clean. There are strike-outs of words and phrases here and there and only occasionally whole sentences (in fact, in the entire manuscript of almost 30,000 words there are only twelve instances where Roth crossed out an entire sentence), but never a whole paragraph. Most are isolated incidents except for a couple of places – for example, near the end of Chapter II where Roth had crossed out three sentences but then restored ‘He wanted to leave the house’ and at the beginning of Chapter IV where he struck out two sentences within close proximity to one another.

  Although after reading the entire novel it might seem that the disconnect of Chapter I from the rest of the book might imply that it was actually supposed to be part of some other novel, the page numbering of the manuscript seems consistent with the idea that it was (if not immediately, then eventually) meant to be together with the rest of the book. Chapter I consists of four manuscript pages, half-sized sheets of paper as compared with the rest of the manuscript. The first page is not numbered, but the following two pages are numbered 2 and 3. The final page of Chapter I is not numbered. Chapter II begins on page 4, which would lead one to believe that continuity was intended, although perhaps after some hesitation as to the direction of the novel. Perlefter begins in a similar fashion to Hotel Savoy, with a seven-storey hotel, but the interesting hotel anecdote is abandoned, standing on its own as a micro-story as the narration moves on to Kroj’s situation. Indeed, the first chapter seems to be just a device to get Kroj from his little town into the Perlefter household.

  In Roth’s manuscript the end of Chapter I is a little choppy. On that unnumbered fourth sheet of paper there is an inch or two of vertical distance between the sentence where Kroj announces that he arrived in Vienna in 1904 and the next sentence beginning ‘It was six o’clock …’ almost as if that were meant to be the opening of a new chapter. At the very end of Chapter I, following the last sentence in the published version – ‘Here, one could already hear summer’s approach …’ – there was more in Roth’s manuscript, another sentence, part of which was struck out by the author but part of which was not. Roth left four words hanging at the end of the sheet of paper (not printed in the published version), hence the ellipses. It is quite possible, given the choppy state of Chapter I’s closing, that it was left unfinished – the fact that Roth in Chapter II says ‘As I have already mentioned’ when he has not done so seems to bear this out. Certainly Chapter I could have ended with ‘On the 28th of April 1904 I arrived in Vienna’, but that would create a very abrupt jump into the start of Chapter II: ‘I think that now is the time to reveal Perlefter’s first name.’

  The remainder of Chapter I (the paragraphs that follow the mention of Kroj’s date of arrival) is helpful as a bridge to Chapter II, but it seems not to go far enough. It offers promise, and then it ends. Kroj goes into great detail to describe the sights, sounds and smells of the waking city of Vienna, such that we would assume he will then go on to tell us about his actual arrival at Perlefter’s house (which would have been quite interesting), but this descriptive narrative is abandoned, and we rather suddenly launch into Chapter II and a description of Perlefter. Or, more accurately, Chapter I ends and Chapter II does not pick up where the opening chapter left off.

  Aside from the questionable Chapter I/Chapter II transition, the continuity of the manuscript from chapters II through VII is well defined. And, although the introduction of Leo Bidak may seem odd, there is no sign within the original manuscript that it was not intended to be part of the story; the page numbers between Chapters VII and VIII are continuous.

  There are few concrete chronological clues to work with in the book. The most definite of them is April 1904, when the narrator Kroj arrives at Perlefter’s house (or, more precisely, arrives in Vienna), presumably a young teenager at that time (and the only instance in the book when an actual date is given). All other dates are by inference or by reference to a particular event.

  The chronology is hard to follow because the narrative in the second chapter remains in 1904 only briefly then flashes back to Perlefter’s childhood (presumably around the 1880s) and early career in the late ninetee
nth century (before Kroj’s arrival; in 1904 Kroj already references Perlefter as a rich man established in the timber industry). Rather than an introduction to the entire Perlefter family as it exists in 1904 we get scattered clues (there is a wife, there are four children). Strangely, it is not until Chapter V that we actually learn the names of the Perlefter children. It is as if the narrator Kroj is as obsessed with Perlefter as Perlefter is with himself; only when he has exhausted his description of Perlefter’s character and life that we learn more details about the rest of the family; only when he has shipped Perlefter off in an aeroplane do we get a look at the rest of household.

  We know that Perlefter has several servants in the household, but not until Chapter V do we learn the name of one, Henriette. Kroj was already at Perlefter’s when Henriette began to work for him at the age of eighteen (at one point Kroj references the fact that Henriette was then thirty years old and had arrived twelve years earlier). Kroj was two years younger than Henriette, so he was sixteen when she arrived, most likely not too long after he himself arrived in Vienna.

  There are references to Kroj having served in the war and received medals and being taken to the club so Perlefter can show him off, probably around 1919 or so. Perlefter’s flight also takes place shortly after the First World War, probably around 1919 or 1920. Logically speaking, if the main action in the second half of the book takes place after Perlefter’s flight, 1919 at the earliest, then that would be fifteen years after Kroj’s arrival, placing Henriette’s arrival twelve years earlier, around 1907, and thus Kroj’s age at arrival in Vienna in 1904 to be twelve (if he was sixteen in 1907).

  The most glaring chronology issue in the book seems to be centred on Perlefter’s flight. When he leaves, the wind from the propeller is described as knocking down the children, which would lead one to believe they are small; the description of a fussy ‘young Perlefter boy’ refusing to eat eggs and being given chocolate for dinner the evening of the flight seems to indicate the Fredy is a mere child. Similarly, Kroj at one point says of Fredy ‘at the time of Perlefter’s flight, he was just beginning to grow and be healthy’. However, although Perlefter is supposedly gone for a little over two months, when he returns the children are all seemingly grown and of marriageable age.