While giving a beating
it is sensible
not to think of the future
but in the pauses
between punches
it is blissful
to think of the time of order
so that
a too disorderly kick
won’t contribute
during the recommencement of the
beating
to channel the thoughts
of the socially sick
when he has adjusted
later on
in the wrong direction.
A fifth Kaspar enters with a similar but perhaps larger package. Kaspar 3 gets up. Kaspar 5 takes Kaspar 3’s place. Kaspar 3 squeezes himself into the small space left next to Kaspar 4. Kaspar 5 puts the package in front of him on the floor. All five are still.
But if
during the beating
an inordinate beating of the heart
fails to occur
and the fists
beat
the breath out of the victim’s
lungs
only (to use the same image again)
like dust
out of a rug
and one only
straightens out (to use the same image again)
the wretch’s tongue
like fringes on a rug
only then does
the injustice occur:
for
while giving a beating
one should not be as calm
as when beating a rug
while plugging up the mouth
one must be uneasy:
so as not to become uneasy
afterwards:
the failure of an inordinate
beating
of the beater’s heart while
he is giving a beating
is bad:
for
anyone whose hand has trembled
suitably
while giving a beating
has a clean slate
and is one more person
who will have to have no qualms
later on:
thus calm reigns on earth.
The original Kaspar comes on stage as he did at first, but without having to look for the slit in the curtain. His movements are self-assured and he looks like the other Kaspars. His mask too should show a contented expression. He walks with firm steps to the front of the stage, as though to take a bow, nicely avoiding all objects. He stops in front of the microphone. All six Kaspars are still.
Those who have been brought to order—
instead of withdrawing into themselves
and fleeing society—
should now realistically seek
without force or beatings
but out of their own strength
to show new ways
by looking for sentences
valid for all:
they cannot choose
they must choose
and tell the others
the truth about themselves
without phrases
or bubbles:
the others too
should finally be able to want to do
what they themselves
now want and should do.
LXII
Kaspar, at the microphone, begins to speak. His voice begins to resemble the voices of the prompters.
Already long
in the world
I realized nothing
I wondered
about the self-evident
and found everything finite
and infinite
laughable every object filled me with fear
the whole world galled me
neither did I want to be myself
nor somebody else
my own hand
my own legs
walked of their own accord
I slept
deeply
with open
eyes:
I was without consciousness
like someone drunk
and though I was supposed to be
I wanted not to be
of use
to anything
each sight
produced dislike
each sound
deceiv-
ed me
about itself
each new step
produced
nausea and sucking
in my chest
I could not keep up
I blocked my view
myself
no light
lit up for me
with the whole mishmash
of sentences
it never occurred to me
that it was I who was meant
I noticed nothing of what
was happening around me
before I began
to come onto the world.
He is quiet for a moment or more. The other Kaspars behind him are also rather still.
I felt
the cacophony
the screaming
outside
was a roaring
and gurgling
in my guts:
I had to suffer,
could not distinguish
among anything:
three was not more
than two
and when I sunned myself
it rained
while I
when I was sweating
in the sun
or heating myself
running
fought my sweat with an umbrella
I could keep nothing apart
neither hot from cold
nor black from white
neither yesterday from today
nor the new from the old
neither people from things
neither prayer from cursing
neither caressing from kicking
every room
looked flat
to me
and hardly
was I awake
when the flat objects fell all over me
like a dream image:
they became obstacles
all the unknown objects
interrogated me
at once
all indistinguishables confused
my hands
and made me wild
so that I became
lost
among the objects
lost my way and
to find my way out
destroyed them.
He is quiet for a few moments. The Kaspars behind him are quiet too.
I came into the world
not by the clock
but because
the pain
while falling
helped me drive
a wedge
between me
and the objects
and finally extirpate
my babbling:
thus the hurt finally drove
the confusion out of me.
I learned to fill
all empty spaces with words
and learned who was who
and to pacify everything that
screamed
with sentences
no empty pot confuses my brain box
any more
everything is at my will
never
again
will I tremble
before an empty closet
before empty boxes
empty
rooms
I hesitate before no walk
out into the open
for every crack
in the wall I
have sentences
as
lists
that help me
to keep the situation
under control:
He now raises his tone. The light becomes brighter. The other Kaspars are still silent.
Everyone must be
free
Everyone must be part of the scene
Everyone must know what he
wants
for the nonce
no one
may miss the drill
no one
may kill
himself in the morning
everyone must do his living
everyone must do his best
everyone must reach the rest
no one may walk across bodies
no one may stand in the lobbies
everyone must be able to spy
into everyone’s eye
everyone must grant
everyone
what is his.
The other Kaspars on the sofa begin to emit peculiar noises whose significance is unmistakable. The audience hears suggestions of stylized sobbing, imitation wind sounds, giggling.
Everyone must be
his own man
everyone must see
to the bottom of the can
everyone must watch firmly
the other’s lips
no one may blindly
trust the other’s flips
everyone must see
the other’s good side too
no one may willy
nilly
pooh pooh
what pleases
the other one
everyone
must let
himself be led
no one may let
lies to be spread
about anyone.
To some extent simultaneously with Kaspar l’s speaking, the audience hears grumbling, croaking, lamenting, falsetto singing, owl-like hooting coming from behind him.
Everyone must work
on himself
everyone must shirk quarreling
with his inner self
or with others
everyone must not forget to care for others
everyone must think of the future and share
everyone must feel
everyone must feel
secure
The audience hears rustling, leaves slapping against each other, ululations, roaring, laughter, humming, purring, warbling, and a single sharp scream.
Everyone must wash his hands before eating
everyone must empty his pockets before a beating
in jail
no one may dump his pail
on his own doorstep
no one may eat out of the other’s lap
everyone must care for his brother
everyone must be combed for the meal mother
no one may let the other whimper and wail
everyone must lend a fingernail
no one may drink coffee
from the saucer or sink
everyone must wave to his neighbor and wink
everyone must cut his nails before lunch
no one may make life a misery for the other bunch
no one may soil
the clean doilies
everyone must clean his nose
everyone should smell like a rose
no one may make fools of others with jokes
no one may laugh at other blokes
no one may laugh at others
no one may tickle
during the burial
no one may scribble
on toilet walls
no one may crinkle
the law books
everyone must listen to everyone
everyone must feel for everyone
everyone must tell everyone his name In the meantime, the noises and sounds in the background have risen to such an extent that Kaspar in front must raise his voice more and more. At the end of his rhymes, the other Kaspars are still sitting quietly on the sofa—trilling, twittering, clearing their throats, groaning, heckling, etc. But these sounds have let Kaspar’s speech become so loud that the last words resemble the thunderous ending of a speech.
LXIII
The Kaspars in back are quiet for the moment. Kaspar in front begins to sing, perhaps falsetto. Slowly but surely the prompters chime in, in canon fashion, which, however, is not resolved. They sing softly and delicately, so that Kaspar is intelligible throughout. Kaspar sings like a true believer.
No one may bite the fork with his teeth no one may mention murderers at dinner no one may transport private persons in the official car everyone must be worth everyone’s while no one may call a man by another man’s name no one may live unregistered everyone should buy heavy goods only on the way home no one may ridicule anyone just because he has thick lips no one may tap anyone on the shoulder no one may stick a knife between anyone’s ribs everyone must call a cop on the street officer sir
The Kaspars in back also sing along, but not words, only sounds. Nor do they really sing. They screech, yodel, buzz, trumpet, draw snot into their noses, smack their lips, grunt, burp, ululate, etc.: all of it in rhythm with the song. Now they grow gradually louder.
None of the furniture may catch dust no hungry man may stand in line and rest no adolescent may loiter no beanpole may reach the height of the high- voltage wires no flag may flutter like a goiter in the wrong direction all morality must come into being I trust during work every animal that remains what it is must yield to the animal that sheds its skin on the field every word that does not mean well must be cut.
The Kaspars in back become louder still. One of them unwraps his package, the paper rustling loudly in the process, takes a nail file from the package and begins filing his nails. Another Kaspar repeats the process, rustling the paper even more loudly and taking an even bigger file out of his package to file his nails with. Filing noises can already be heard.
No elbow on the table no fish with the knife no parasite with the fingers no spoon with its side to the mouth no solace for tired eyes no truffles uncooked every bum in jail: kill every paradox
Kaspar I is speaking again: The prompters sing what Kaspar utters, and the other Kaspars squeak, bark, make the sounds ofrain and storm, blow up bubble gum till it bursts, etc.
No shit on a real stick no genuine finger for licking every fresh fish for frying every true person in the clear about everything every truly healthy fruit fling in the can everything unessential down the drain
LXIV
He stops speaking. There is silence. Then Kaspar says:
What was it
that
I said
just now?
If I only knew
what it is
that I said
just now!
If I only knew
what I said
just now!
What is that
that I said
just now?
What
was I
actually
saying
just now?
What was it
that was
being said
just now?
If I only knew
what I
said
just now!
What
was that
actually
that I was
saying
just now?
Even while he is asking himself these questions, he, like the other Kaspars, begins to giggle and the like. At the same time the prompters sing his previous verses to the end. Kaspar, for instance, is snap–ping his finger against the microphone, producing a whine. All the Kaspars, while the prompters are singing, finally emit genuinely infectious laughter. Finally, sighing and giggling, the speaking Kaspar and the other Kaspars gradually grow quiet. The audience hears two or three of them filing their nails.
Kaspar in front says:
Every sentence
is for the birds
every sentence is for
the birds
every sentence is for the birds
There is silence.
He begins to speak without versifying.
A spotlight is on him.
I was prou
d of the first step I took, of the second step I felt ashamed; I was just as proud of the first hand which I discovered on myself, but of the second hand I felt ashamed: I felt ashamed of everything that I repeated; yet I felt ashamed even of the first sentence I uttered, whereas I no longer felt ashamed of the second sentence and soon became accustomed to the subsequent ones. I was proud of my second sentence.
In my story I only wanted to make a noise with my first sentence, whereas with my second sentence I wanted to call attention to my–self, and I wanted to speak with the next sentence, and I wanted to hear myself speak with the next sentence, and with my next sentence I wanted others to hear my speaking, and with the next sentence I wanted others to hear what I said, and with the next sentence I wanted others who also uttered a sentence not to be heard, and used only the next to last sentence to ask questions, and began only with the last sentence of the story to ask what the others had said, the others who were ignored while I said my sentence.
I saw the snow and attacked the snow. Thereupon I said the sentence: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to express why the snow was biting my hands. Once I woke up in the dark and saw nothing. Thereupon I said: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to express, first of all, why is it that the whole room has been moved away, and then, because I did not see myself, why have I been cut off from everything that belongs to me, whereupon, because I had heard someone, namely myself, speaking, I said once more: I want to be a person like somebody else was once?—with which I wanted to express that I would have liked to have known who else was making fun of me while I was speaking. Then once I took a look into the open, where there was a very green glow, and I said to the open: I want to be a person like somebody else was once?—and with this sentence I wanted to ask the open why it was that my feet were aching. I also noticed a curtain that was moving. Thereupon I said, but not to the curtain: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, and with that I wanted to say, but not to the curtain, I don’t know to whom, why are all the table drawers out and why does my coat always get caught in the door. I also heard someone climbing stairs which creaked, and thereupon I said to the creaking that I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to express when will my head feel lighter again. Once I also let my plate fall to the floor, but it did not break, whereupon I exclaimed: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I meant that I was afraid of nothing in the world, whereupon I said once more: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to make comprehensible that something probably could make me afraid, for example a cracked icicle; and once I felt no more pain, and I shouted: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to say to everyone that I finally felt no more pain, but then I felt pain once more and I whispered in everyone’s ear: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to inform everyone that no, on the contrary, I felt no more pain and that everything was all right with me, with which I began to lie; and finally I said to myself: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, and wanted to know with that what that sentence, which I said to myself, what it actually means.