“You shouldn’t have gone to see Sachs on your own, you know,” said Kusevitsky.
“I don’t think we were in any real danger,” Anna replied. “I am not a psychiatrist, Gabriel, but I believe that men who abuse women are, without exception, cowards. He wouldn’t dare harm us; although that isn’t quite true. He did…” Anna looked at the floor guiltily. “Push me.”
“He did what?”
“I was holding the door open, and he shoved me out of the way in order to close it.”
“The swine!”
“It was nothing. Honestly.”
“Where does he live? I’ve a good mind to-”
“No, Gabriel.”
“Asher is an excellent swordsman.”
“We must be patient and hope that in due course our efforts with the police will be rewarded. Olga and I can be very persistent.”
Kusevitsky recovered his professional calm.
“Where is Fraulein Pinski now?”
“Actually we managed to get her admitted into your hospital.”
“Really?”
“Dr. Janosi is a friend of Professor Kraus’s.”
“I will visit her.”
“That is kind of you. But you must not ask Kadia about her dreams.” Anna smiled sadly. “We must suppose she only ever has nightmares.”
“And when she is recovered from her injuries? Where will she go?”
“I have no idea.”
“I will mention her case to Professor Priel. He might be able to provide her with pecuniary assistance from one of the Rothenstein contingency funds. It won’t be much, but it should be enough to keep her in lodgings until she finds respectable employment.”
Anna reached out and covered Gabriel’s hand with her own.
“Thank you, Gabriel.”
Kusevitsky, somewhat embarrassed, withdrew and stood up. He paced over to the window.
“Jeheil Sachs,” he muttered.
“What a pig,” said Anna. “Wallowing in his own filth.”
“No, not a pig-more a parasite. A parasite living off the misfortune of others. These procurers… they shame us all. They are a scourge. A plague!”
Anna reached out. “Come. Sit down.”
She had never seen Gabriel looking quite so troubled.
Kusevitsky crossed the room and sat down beside her. She took his face in her hands, kissed him, and stroked his forehead.
“It’s all right,” Anna said. He was hot, and his eyes were glazed-like a child with a fever.
52
From the journal of Dr. Max Liebermann
I spent the remainder of the afternoon browsing in the secondhand bookshops of the Jewish quarter. The booksellers-shriveled old men with white beards, all of whom were almost blind from reading too much-were as erudite (and eccentric) as university professors.
The legend is an old one. Golem stories have been told for centuries. Even Jacob Grimm mentions the Polish Jews making a man from clay and mud; however, since the sixteenth century, the golem has become particularly associated with the name of Rabbi Loew. Orthodox Jews have many tales about the Maharal of Prague, which typically involve him outwitting a vindictive Christian adversary (most notably an evil priest called Thaddeus). In most of these, his supernatural assistant, the golem, ensures that the enemies of Jewry are punished.
Mankind has always been preoccupied with the idea of aping the creator, stealing fire from the gods. In literature the tradition extends from ancient times to the present. (I am reminded of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, a work that I have discussed with Miss Lydgate.) It is a didactic tradition that alerts mankind to the dangers of hubris. A golem can be created, but not necessarily controlled. When men act like gods, danger follows.
Prague is a dark place, a city that has always welcomed astrologers, kabbalists, and animators. One has only to stroll around the Stare Mysto and Mala Strana, looking up at the relief door signs-numbers, stars, devils, compasses, and occult symbols-to see evidence of Prague’s magical past. There is even a narrow lane called the Street of the Alchemists up by the castle.
But now, it seems, the golem is no longer confined to the Prague ghetto: neither the physical ghetto nor the imaginary ghetto of Hasidic folktales. It has broken free of its own myth and now haunts the broad avenues of Vienna. Prague! I have already been here too long. These archaic places, which make an appeal to the deepest levels of the unconscious, corrode reason. I find it all too easy now to imagine a monstrous hulk lurking in the shadows, the magic holding its form against the laws of nature, the spell occasionally weakening, and the supernatural flesh transmuting back into mud. The great expenditure of energy as it rips the head off its victim producing a momentary dissolution-clods on cobbles-and then the creature rising, its bulky body impossibly fleet, returning to the kabbalist’s lair above the Alois Gasse Temple.
Yes, it comes all too easily, as though the wellspring of dreams has been unstopped. The images spout up and spill into the real world. I can’t stop thinking about the conversation that I had with Kusevitsky: dreams, myths-a racial unconscious. Professor Freud: “When the work of interpretation has been completed, we perceive that a dream is the fulfillment of a wish.” But not just any wish-a forbidden wish, a wish unacceptable to the censoring agency of the mind.
A golem is the embodiment of a forbidden wish, a wish to unleash unconscionable violence on the enemy-an abrogation of civilized values and the triumph of the primitive unconscious. A people who have endured persecution for millennia would have necessarily repressed the urge to strike back at their tormentors. Such a reservoir of anger and resentment must be fathomless. Regiments unite behind a standard and nations behind a flag. Who are they, I wonder, who are now uniting behind the figure of this terrifying mythic avenger?
53
The Chancellor was frowning.
“You wish to discuss a staff member. Herr Dr. Liebermann, is it?”
“That is correct,” said Rheinhardt.
“Has he committed an offense?”
“No,” said Rheinhardt. “Dr. Liebermann has not committed an offense; however, he is known to us at the security office.”
“Well, to be frank,” Gandler cut in, shaking his head, “that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Herr Professor,” said Rheinhardt, “Dr. Liebermann is not a suspect. He is a consultant.”
“A consultant?”
“He is a very gifted psychiatrist, who has been of great service to my department.”
“Well, I am delighted to hear that,” said Professor Gandler. “However, I’m afraid he is away at present and can be contacted only through his family.”
“I know,” said Rheinhardt. “It was I who suggested that he should leave Vienna.”
Professor Gandler’s expression became clouded with puzzlement.
“I understand,” Rheinhardt continued, “that Dr. Liebermann has been suspended from clinical duties pending a meeting of the hospital committee. I am fully aware of the circumstances surrounding this decision, and the concerns you expressed about the hospital demonstrating that it takes accusations of religious agitation seriously. Moreover, I believe that you suspended Dr. Liebermann in anticipation of the imminent publication of unfavorable articles, the most damaging of which was expected to appear in Kikeriki.”