Berlin Alexanderplatz (1980) s01e09 Episode Script
About the Eternities Between the Many and the Few
together with major contributions by many others, present: Based on the novel by Alfred DÃblin a film in 13 parts with an epilogue She wants to earn money, and rightly so.
I earn my own money as well.
And if she doesn't like you supporting her, which you can't properly, with your arm She said that right away.
She's a great girl.
You can count on her, Franz.
Franz, what's the matter? It's June now in Berlin, in spite of everything.
The weather remains warm and rainy.
There's a lot going on in the world.
The airship ltalia, with General Nobile onboard, has crashed and is radioing its position northeast of Spitsbergen, where it's difficult to reach.
Another aircraft had better luck: It flew nonstop from San Francisco to Australia in 77 hours and made a perfect landing there.
The king of Spain is quarreling with dictator General Primo.
Let's hope the matter will sort itself out.
Pleasantly touched, and at first sight too: An engagement between Baden and Sweden.
A princess from the land of matches is all aflame for a prince from Baden.
When one considers how far apart Baden and Sweden are, it's amazing how a thing like that can happen.
Women are my weak point, a mortal weakness.
When I kiss the first one, I think of the second and steal a glance at the third.
Yes, yes.
Women are a weakness of mine.
But what can I do? I can't help it, and even if I go broke with women, I'll write "sold out" on the door to my heart.
And Charlie Amberg adds: "I'll tear out an eyelash and stab you with it dead.
Then I'll take my lipstick and paint you all red.
And if you're still mean to me, I know what I'll do: I'll order fried eggs and throw spinach at you.
You, you, you.
I'll order fried eggs and throw spinach at you.
" On Monday, the electric street-car system starts running.
The Imperial Railroad Board warns of the dangers involved: "Attention.
Caution.
Don't board the car.
Stand back.
You are committing an offense" Franz? Say something, Franz.
Don't you feel well? No, no.
I just felt a little queasy.
You see? That's exactly what Mieze always says.
"You should take it easy", she said, "because of all you've gone through, Franz.
" You didn't have an easy time out in Tegel either.
She'd be ashamed to let you slave away for her.
She'd rather go work for you.
She just didn't dare to tell you about it.
Yeah, yeah.
You have no idea how much the girl's stuck on you.
You don't want me.
Or do you want me, Franz? No, Eva.
You're a great broad, but you've got to stay with Herbert.
He needs you.
He's a decent guy.
Okay, now you must go find Mieze.
Come on.
She won't come home if you don't want her anymore.
Okay, okay.
It's all right.
It's all right.
Okay, then.
Corner of Jean-Paul and Mosesstrasse by the construction site.
You can't miss it.
Mosesstrasse, by the construction site.
Very quietly, tenderly, Franz took his leave of Eva.
It's okay.
I'm all right, Franz.
Don't cry, Mieze.
Please don't cry.
You know what I'm going to do, Mieze? Something I should have done long ago.
Today I can do it.
Today I'm strong enough.
I'll be back home at 8.
What's up, buddy? No stories today? What's the use? You don't listen to me anyway, Iet alone come into our establishment and take advantage of our special offer.
Just be a good guy and tell me your story again.
Try it on me again.
Okay.
What do I care? By the waters sits the Great Babylon, mother of whoring and all abominations.
See how she sits on the scarlet beast with her seven heads and 10 horns.
You must see it.
Every step you take is a joy to her.
She's drunk with the blood of saints whom she tears apart.
Behold the horns with which she butts.
From the abyss she comes, and leads to damnation.
Look at her: the pearls, the scarlet, the jewels, the teeth, the way she bares them.
Her thick, full lips.
Blood has flowed over them.
With them, she has drunk.
O Whore of Babylon.
Golden yellow poisonous eyes, bloated throat.
See how she smiles at you.
Well, are you satisfied now? It's a nice story, but I've got one as well.
There's a fly that is crawling and crawling and crawling and it settles down in a flowerpot.
The sand trickles off it, but it doesn't mind.
It simply shakes it off.
Then it stretches its black head forward and crawls out.
You don't like my story, huh? No, your story's not so bad.
Maybe you could elaborate on it a bit.
That's something you can learn: how to tell stories.
All right.
I'll give it a try.
Left, right, left, right, left, right All the best! Just don't imagine you're tired, Franz.
Keep going right past every bar.
No boozing.
We'll have to see about that.
Left, right Left, right, left, right.
IX.
About the Eternities Between the Many and the Few What do you want of me? What do we have to say to each other? I'm not so sure myself, Reinhold, but I guess we'll find out soon.
Some time ago, I lost my arm after it was run over.
I used to be a decent guy.
People would swear an oath to that.
But now I'm a pimp.
Maybe we could just discuss who's to blame for that.
And put your gun away.
You've nothing to fear from me.
How about letting me in? All right.
If you really want to come in.
I told you to put your gun away.
That would be sheer stupidity, Reinhold.
You'll just make trouble for yourself.
Take a seat, Franz.
Once there were three kings who came from the Orient, bearing incense, which they swung to and fro.
Why are you staring like that, Franz? Are you drunk? No, I'm not drunk, Reinhold.
I just wanted to see you.
What do you intend to do? Turn the thumbscrews? Blackmail me because of what happened? All right.
How much do you want? But you know we're prepared for that.
And we know you're a pimp too.
Yes, I am a pimp.
What should I do with one arm? Okay.
What do you want? Nothing at all, Reinhold.
Nothing at all.
By the way, Cilly was here with me again.
Just passing through.
You know, when I haven't had a girl for a few months, I can have her again.
A repeat performance is a strange thing, you know.
Cheers.
You've got two hands, Reinhold, and two arms.
I've got only one.
And with your two hands, you threw me out of the car, Reinhold.
Why? That's life.
I really ought to kill you.
But that's just what the others think.
I don't want that at all.
It's just the others.
That's not what I think at all.
What do I think? I don't know anything.
I can't do anything.
But I have to, l wanted to do something.
I'm not a man at all.
I'm just chickenshit.
Franz? Listen.
Franz.
I'm sorry.
Sorry.
I was somewhere else for a moment.
Forget it.
It doesn't matter.
It's just that I'd like to see I'd like to see your injury.
It looks rather nasty.
It's a lot better now, you know.
It used to be much worse.
Do you always keep your sleeve in your pocket like that? Do you stick it in yourself, or is it sewn in? No.
I stick it in like that every time.
With your other hand? Sometimes this way, sometimes that.
Look, when I've got the jacket on, it's not so easy.
You must be careful not to put anything in your right-hand pocket.
It would be easy to pinch it.
Not from me.
Couldn't you buy an artificial arm? When a guy loses a leg, he puts on a false one.
It'd look better, huh? No, Reinhold.
It would just rub.
Well, I'd buy one for myself.
Or maybe stuff out the sleeve.
Come on.
Let's try it.
What for? Then you wouldn't run around with a floppy sleeve.
You don't have to see it a mile away.
What use is it to me? Just watch.
A few pairs of underpants, undershirts You'll see.
Reinhold, what use is it to me? It won't stay like that.
It'll look like a sausage.
No.
That's not right.
You must get a tailor to do it.
It's better like that.
You don't have to run around like a cripple.
It'd look as if you had your hand in your pocket.
I can't stand cripples.
A cripple's no good for anything.
When I see a cripple, I always say it'd be better to do away with him altogether.
That's more or less what I think too.
You know, you're right, Reinhold.
A cripple can't do as he wants anymore.
Maybe it'd really be better to do away with him altogether.
That's what I'm saying.
Yes, and you're right too.
I'll tell you one thing, Mieze: You can do what you like, but I'll never let you go.
Never.
You don't have to say that, Franz.
I'll never leave you.
Never.
See you this evening, then.
Wait a minute.
I was going out myself.
I'll come with you.
Mrs.
Bast.
Yes, Miss Mieze? We're going now.
Be so good as to close the window later.
About 6 or 6:30, okay? -Sure.
-Thanks.
-Bye, Mrs.
Bast.
-Bye.
Hello, Willy.
You're lucky.
I was just going out.
Hello, Franz.
Oh, I'm sorry.
This is Mieze, my Mieze.
And this is Willy.
We got to know each other.
We've been working together and so on.
-Hello.
-Hello.
I must be going, Franz.
-See you tonight, darling.
-Bye.
Well, what do you say now? Give me a hand.
The chick looks okay.
What do you mean, okay? She's an angel.
An angel, I tell you.
Didn't you see how innocent she looks, and how sweet? Sure I saw it.
I was amazed that a working girl could look like that.
-She does that because she loves me.
-Oh, boy.
Hi, Maxie.
-Hi, Franz.
-Boy, the weather's great.
A beer.
Double kuemmel.
Beer with a dash.
Waldmeister or raspberry? -Waldmeister.
-Okay, waldmeister.
Hello, birdy.
Come on.
You can bring the schnapps first.
Franz, Franz, what have they done with you? What's the problem, Maxie? Do you want to give a sermon every time? It's not a sermon, Franz, just the truth.
Or am I wrong? Didn't you swear to go straight? "Come with me", says the man to his son and sets out, and his son goes with him into the mountains.
"How much farther is it, Father?" "I don't know.
Just follow me.
" Uphill, downhill, through valleys they go.
The path is long.
It is midday.
"Here we are.
Look around you, my son.
There stands an altar.
" "I'm afraid, Father.
" "Why are you afraid, my son?" "You woke me early and we set out from home.
We forgot the ram we were going to slaughter.
" "Yes, we forgot it.
" "I'm afraid, Father.
" "I, too, am afraid, my son.
Come closer.
Don't be afraid.
We have to do it.
" "What do we have to do?" "Don't be afraid, my son.
Do it gladly.
Come closer to me.
I have already removed my coat.
Now I won't bloody my sleeves.
" "I'm afraid because you're holding the knife.
" "Yes, I am holding the knife.
For I must slaughter you, sacrifice you.
It is God's command.
Submit gladly, my son.
" "I don't want to be slaughtered.
" "Don't cry, my son.
If you are not willing, I cannot do it.
Submit gladly to it.
What do you want at home? God is more than just a home.
" "I cannot.
Yes, I can.
No, I cannot.
" "Come closer.
Look.
I'm holding the knife ready.
Look at it.
It's very sharp.
It's ready for your throat.
" "Is it to cut my throat?" "Yes.
" "Then the blood will gush out.
" "Yes.
That is what the Lord commands.
Do you want it?" "I cannot yet, Father.
" "I may not slay you.
If I do it, it must be as if you did it yourself.
" "I, myself?" "Yes, and you mustn't be afraid.
You may not love life, your own life.
You surrender it for the Lord.
Come closer.
" "The Lord, our God, wishes it?" "You would not be faint-hearted.
" "Put the knife to my throat.
Wait.
Let me turn back my collar so that my neck is completely free.
" "You just have to want it, and so must I.
We shall do it together.
Then the Lord will call.
We shall hear him call: 'Stop it!"' "Yes.
" "Come here.
Give me your neck.
" "Here.
I am not afraid.
I do it gladly.
Cleave me apart.
I shall not cry out.
" And the son leans his head back.
His father moves behind him, holds his son by the brow, wields the knife in his right hand.
His son wishes it.
The Lord calls out, and both fall prostrate.
What does the voice of the Lord call out? "Hallelujah! You are obedient to me.
Hallelujah! You shall live.
Hallelujah! Let it be.
Throw the knife into the abyss.
Hallelujah! I am the Lord, whom you obey, whom alone you must always obey.
Hallelujah!" You used to lead a foul life.
You fell into bad ways.
Then you killed lda, and served time for it.
And now? You see, you don't even have an answer.
You're back where you were again.
Ida is now Mieze, you've lost an arm, and you've started drinking again, just as bad as before.
And that means the same thing all over again, only worse.
And then it'll all be over, Franz.
Baloney.
Is it my fault? Was I so keen on becoming a pimp? Cut the crap.
I did what I could: everything humanly possible.
You saw that, didn't you? I even lost an arm.
Just let somebody say something.
I'm fed up with it.
Didn't I give it my best shot? Didn't I run around morning, noon and night? Suddenly I got the message.
Okay, so you're right.
What do I care? So I'm not a decent guy.
I'm a pimp, but I'm not ashamed of it.
And anyway, what are you? What do you live on? You live on other people too, don't you? Have I ever bled anyone dry? You know me, Franz.
You know me pretty well.
You know I wouldn't talk like this if I didn't like you.
You know that very well.
Yeah, maybe.
It's true, Franz.
One thing I can tell you: you'll end up in jail again, or with a knife in your gut.
Sure, so I get a knife in my gut.
That's okay.
But mark my words, Maxie: not before the other guy's had a taste of mine.
That's the one thing I don't understand, Franz, that you keep on doing this to yourself.
The same old story.
Well, I've always come here.
You see? That's what I mean: you always come here.
It's important not to stick with the same old things.
Don't you understand? Okay, that may be true.
But this is my hangout.
It doesn't have to be forever, though.
Yes, but-- No buts, Franz.
But I know what: There's a meeting today, in about half an hour.
They're talking about these things.
We'll go along.
A meeting? In the middle of the afternoon? Yes.
Why not? With all the unemployed around, they can hold their meetings in the afternoon.
And the few guys who still have jobs but who want to attend will just have to be sick today.
Okay.
What do I care? The German Reich is a republic, and anyone who doesn't believe it will get a bullet in the neck.
All the Reichstag is good for is taking the people for a ride, and the parties know that best of all.
Just look at the Socialists: they don't want anything, they know nothing and are not capable of anything.
They've got the most seats in the Reichstag, but they don't know what to do with them.
All they do is sit around in club chairs, smoking cigars and waiting to be made ministers.
That's what the workers gave their votes for, and their money too, so that 50 or 100 men can get fat at their expense.
The Socialists didn't seize political power.
Political power has seized the Socialists.
That's why we won't touch another ballot.
We won't vote anymore, because on a Sunday like that, it's healthier to take a spin in the country.
And why? Because the voters are tied down by legalities, and legalities mean coercion, the brute force of the ruling classes.
No one is meant to notice what the state really is.
Not even to see the cracks and crevices through which one could peep, because then even the greatest fool would realize that he's just another gullible voter.
One of the common herd, just one of the common herd.
What an infinite distance there is between him and the state of which he's meant to believe he's a part.
The bourgeoisie and the Socialists and the Communists are happy and shout in chorus: "All blessings come from above.
From the state, from law, from the authorities.
Freedom is anchored in the constitution.
" It's quite true that freedom's anchored there, anchored so firmly it's stuck fast.
You'll soon come to realize, ladies and gentlemen, just how firmly that freedom is stuck.
But elections are held, and more elections, and every time, they say things will certainly get better, most certainly.
But I can tell you, ladies and gentlemen, just how much better everything will get.
For example, soon the right to strike will be taken from us.
But we have the guillotine of the arbitration councils, under which we are free to move.
No, ladies and gentlemen, I tell you, it's all a cycle of endless blindness, and nothing will change.
The parliamentary system prolongs the misery of the working classes.
Egyptian slaves worked without machines for decades on a Pharaoh's tomb.
European workers Iabor for decades with machines to heap up some private fortune.
Progress? Maybe.
But for whom? Soon I'll be working, to help Krupp in Essen or Borsig earn a thousand marks more a month.
What choice do you have but to work, if you want to live? Just a minute.
Stand still a moment.
Tell me, please, what the difference is between you and someone from the Social Democrats.
Well Do you ask that in all seriousness? Sure I do.
Look, you stand at your lathe and take your two bits home with you, while your corporation distributes dividends earned from your work.
European workers slave away with machines for decades, heaping up some private fortune.
Is that true or not? -Yes, okay.
And what do you do? Come on, Franz, you tell him.
What the hell.
I'm not interested in political discussions.
This isn't a political discussion.
We're just talking about ourselves.
Out with it.
What kind of job do you have? There is a reaper whose name is Death.
I must weep and wail on the mountains and lament in the desert among the herds, for they are so ravaged that no one ventures there.
Both the birds of the heavens and the beasts, all are gone.
Come on.
Tell us what work you do.
Oh, I get around.
I do this and that.
I don't actually work.
I let others work for me.
So you're an entrepreneur with employees.
How many do you have? And what are you doing here anyway, if you're a capitalist? I want to reduce Jerusalem to rubble and the abode of jackals, and lay waste the cities of Judah, so that no one can dwell in them.
That's just an excuse.
What do you mean? Haven't you noticed I've got only one arm? That's the price I paid for working.
And that's why I don't want to hear anything about honest work.
I still don't understand, buddy, why you don't work.
If you don't have an honest job, you must have a dishonest one.
There you are.
He's caught on at last.
Come over here, Willy.
That's it: dishonest work.
Your honest work is slavery.
You said so yourself just now.
That's what honest work is, and I learned my lesson.
Okay, so you don't work.
But you don't seem to be on welfare either.
No, I'm not on welfare either.
Then I'd just like to ask, though it's none of my business, what you're doing here.
I was waiting for that question.
You were talking just now about damned wage slavery, and saying that we are all outcasts with no room to move.
Yes, but you weren't listening properly.
I was talking about refusing to work.
But to do that, you've got to have a job first.
And that's what I refuse to do.
That doesn't help us.
You might just as well go to bed.
I was talking about a strike, a mass strike, a general strike.
And that's what you call direct action? It's just talk.
Talk and more talk, yet you go to work and make the capitalists stronger.
You idiot.
-Hey.
You make shells for them, which they later use to shoot you dead.
And you want to teach me something? Did you hear that, Willy? Boy, it bowls you over.
I ask you again what work you do.
And I tell you again: nothing! Not a lick.
You can all kiss my ass, because I shouldn't do any work, according to your theory.
I'm not boosting any capitalists.
And I don't give a damn about your bitching and strikes and what you keep going on about, what's supposed to happen someday.
I don't give a damn.
You've got to stand on your own two feet.
What I need, I do myself.
I'm self-sufficient.
Just try to go it alone! Alone, you can't do anything.
We need militant organizations.
-What? We have to set up militant organizations.
Do you understand? That's what we have to establish: Militant organizations.
-Organizations.
I'd like to know what's going on in your head.
I'd really like to know that.
On the one hand, you preach and say you're against every system, against any kind of order and all organizations.
On the other hand, you want to set up militant organizations.
Don't you see there's something wrong in your head? Can't you see that? Words are wasted on you.
You can't think straight.
You've got a mental block.
You don't know what's important for the proletariat: Solidarity.
That's something you don't know.
Hello? Anybody there? My God, don't scare me like that.
It's not good for my heart.
Oh, I see.
Goes to your heart, does it? That too.
Herbert's here.
I see.
May I introduce my friend Willy? This is my sweetest friend, Eva.
-Hello.
Hello.
Come on in.
The company expresses its thanks and is open to further cooperation.
Who is it, honey? It sounds like that awful guy Franz Biberkopf.
You heard correctly, general.
Your ears are still the best-functioning organ you possess.
As an expert, I have to refute that emphatically.
You know best, madam.
Everyone's entitled to an opinion.
Am I right, or am I right? Hi, Herbert.
-Hi, Franz.
Haven't seen you in a long time.
-Well, if you don't keep in touch I was in Breslau for a few days.
I'm too polite to ask what business takes a guy to the provinces.
Let's have a drink.
What brings you to this godforsaken part of town in the middle of the day? There was some meeting just around the corner.
-Cheers.
-Politics these days.
With the present mess, nobody knows what's up.
-Exactly that, madam.
-"Madam".
That's why you have to keep up to date.
Willy may be young, but he's got opinions and ideas we'd never have thought of at his age.
It's true.
Young people are much further today.
They take a greater interest, think more.
Sure.
They've got more time.
Of course they've got more time, they're unemployed.
We have to use our time somehow, and thinking is one of the very few things in the world that doesn't cost anything.
And have you learned anything? I have learned something.
I've learned that the existing social order is based on the economic, political and social enslavement of the working people.
It is expressed in property rights, the monopoly of ownership, and in the state, the monopoly of power.
Production today is based not on satisfying natural human needs, but on the prospect of On the prospect of making a profit.
All technological progress increases the wealth of the propertied classes immeasurably, in shameless contrast to the misery of broad sections of the population.
Cheers.
Did you learn that by heart? Be honest.
You didn't learn that rubbish by heart? Yes, I did.
Even so, the idea's quite simple, really.
Namely, that the state, and that means the police, does more to help and protect the rights of people who already possess a lot anyway.
And the others, those who do the work, don't even think of I don't know, taking action against it all, or Or demanding their rights or whatever.
Cheers.
What you're saying is that there's no order anymore.
That's right.
What hogwash.
It's not possible.
What would become of the world without order? In my opinion, it has to be like that.
There have to be people who make sure you can cross the street in peace.
Bravo.
You've learned what you're supposed to think.
But don't kid yourself: Most people are made fools of because it's somehow not natural for there to be limits.
The earth, or whatever, belongs in the first instance to man.
The forests and everything.
Any limitations are artificial.
That's why you've learned that there has to be some kind of order and people to enforce it.
It's perfectly clear because the world, you see, everything somehow, the trees, the animals, and everything that grows, all that can function only for those who want to profit from it, when it's somehow When it's somehow all divided up.
When somehow When somehow it's all apportioned.
Then they've got everything better under control and Including the people.
Then they're somehow How should I put it? They're more useful.
More useful for those who rule.
Well, I really must be going now.
I'm meeting Mieze.
Ask her to be at the Mocca Fix at 7, would you? -I will.
-Willy, let's have another one.
I think it's strange.
What do you think is strange? That it's possible to talk and think for and against the same thing at the same time.
It's really strange.
Yes, well, that's life.
End of part nine, with
I earn my own money as well.
And if she doesn't like you supporting her, which you can't properly, with your arm She said that right away.
She's a great girl.
You can count on her, Franz.
Franz, what's the matter? It's June now in Berlin, in spite of everything.
The weather remains warm and rainy.
There's a lot going on in the world.
The airship ltalia, with General Nobile onboard, has crashed and is radioing its position northeast of Spitsbergen, where it's difficult to reach.
Another aircraft had better luck: It flew nonstop from San Francisco to Australia in 77 hours and made a perfect landing there.
The king of Spain is quarreling with dictator General Primo.
Let's hope the matter will sort itself out.
Pleasantly touched, and at first sight too: An engagement between Baden and Sweden.
A princess from the land of matches is all aflame for a prince from Baden.
When one considers how far apart Baden and Sweden are, it's amazing how a thing like that can happen.
Women are my weak point, a mortal weakness.
When I kiss the first one, I think of the second and steal a glance at the third.
Yes, yes.
Women are a weakness of mine.
But what can I do? I can't help it, and even if I go broke with women, I'll write "sold out" on the door to my heart.
And Charlie Amberg adds: "I'll tear out an eyelash and stab you with it dead.
Then I'll take my lipstick and paint you all red.
And if you're still mean to me, I know what I'll do: I'll order fried eggs and throw spinach at you.
You, you, you.
I'll order fried eggs and throw spinach at you.
" On Monday, the electric street-car system starts running.
The Imperial Railroad Board warns of the dangers involved: "Attention.
Caution.
Don't board the car.
Stand back.
You are committing an offense" Franz? Say something, Franz.
Don't you feel well? No, no.
I just felt a little queasy.
You see? That's exactly what Mieze always says.
"You should take it easy", she said, "because of all you've gone through, Franz.
" You didn't have an easy time out in Tegel either.
She'd be ashamed to let you slave away for her.
She'd rather go work for you.
She just didn't dare to tell you about it.
Yeah, yeah.
You have no idea how much the girl's stuck on you.
You don't want me.
Or do you want me, Franz? No, Eva.
You're a great broad, but you've got to stay with Herbert.
He needs you.
He's a decent guy.
Okay, now you must go find Mieze.
Come on.
She won't come home if you don't want her anymore.
Okay, okay.
It's all right.
It's all right.
Okay, then.
Corner of Jean-Paul and Mosesstrasse by the construction site.
You can't miss it.
Mosesstrasse, by the construction site.
Very quietly, tenderly, Franz took his leave of Eva.
It's okay.
I'm all right, Franz.
Don't cry, Mieze.
Please don't cry.
You know what I'm going to do, Mieze? Something I should have done long ago.
Today I can do it.
Today I'm strong enough.
I'll be back home at 8.
What's up, buddy? No stories today? What's the use? You don't listen to me anyway, Iet alone come into our establishment and take advantage of our special offer.
Just be a good guy and tell me your story again.
Try it on me again.
Okay.
What do I care? By the waters sits the Great Babylon, mother of whoring and all abominations.
See how she sits on the scarlet beast with her seven heads and 10 horns.
You must see it.
Every step you take is a joy to her.
She's drunk with the blood of saints whom she tears apart.
Behold the horns with which she butts.
From the abyss she comes, and leads to damnation.
Look at her: the pearls, the scarlet, the jewels, the teeth, the way she bares them.
Her thick, full lips.
Blood has flowed over them.
With them, she has drunk.
O Whore of Babylon.
Golden yellow poisonous eyes, bloated throat.
See how she smiles at you.
Well, are you satisfied now? It's a nice story, but I've got one as well.
There's a fly that is crawling and crawling and crawling and it settles down in a flowerpot.
The sand trickles off it, but it doesn't mind.
It simply shakes it off.
Then it stretches its black head forward and crawls out.
You don't like my story, huh? No, your story's not so bad.
Maybe you could elaborate on it a bit.
That's something you can learn: how to tell stories.
All right.
I'll give it a try.
Left, right, left, right, left, right All the best! Just don't imagine you're tired, Franz.
Keep going right past every bar.
No boozing.
We'll have to see about that.
Left, right Left, right, left, right.
IX.
About the Eternities Between the Many and the Few What do you want of me? What do we have to say to each other? I'm not so sure myself, Reinhold, but I guess we'll find out soon.
Some time ago, I lost my arm after it was run over.
I used to be a decent guy.
People would swear an oath to that.
But now I'm a pimp.
Maybe we could just discuss who's to blame for that.
And put your gun away.
You've nothing to fear from me.
How about letting me in? All right.
If you really want to come in.
I told you to put your gun away.
That would be sheer stupidity, Reinhold.
You'll just make trouble for yourself.
Take a seat, Franz.
Once there were three kings who came from the Orient, bearing incense, which they swung to and fro.
Why are you staring like that, Franz? Are you drunk? No, I'm not drunk, Reinhold.
I just wanted to see you.
What do you intend to do? Turn the thumbscrews? Blackmail me because of what happened? All right.
How much do you want? But you know we're prepared for that.
And we know you're a pimp too.
Yes, I am a pimp.
What should I do with one arm? Okay.
What do you want? Nothing at all, Reinhold.
Nothing at all.
By the way, Cilly was here with me again.
Just passing through.
You know, when I haven't had a girl for a few months, I can have her again.
A repeat performance is a strange thing, you know.
Cheers.
You've got two hands, Reinhold, and two arms.
I've got only one.
And with your two hands, you threw me out of the car, Reinhold.
Why? That's life.
I really ought to kill you.
But that's just what the others think.
I don't want that at all.
It's just the others.
That's not what I think at all.
What do I think? I don't know anything.
I can't do anything.
But I have to, l wanted to do something.
I'm not a man at all.
I'm just chickenshit.
Franz? Listen.
Franz.
I'm sorry.
Sorry.
I was somewhere else for a moment.
Forget it.
It doesn't matter.
It's just that I'd like to see I'd like to see your injury.
It looks rather nasty.
It's a lot better now, you know.
It used to be much worse.
Do you always keep your sleeve in your pocket like that? Do you stick it in yourself, or is it sewn in? No.
I stick it in like that every time.
With your other hand? Sometimes this way, sometimes that.
Look, when I've got the jacket on, it's not so easy.
You must be careful not to put anything in your right-hand pocket.
It would be easy to pinch it.
Not from me.
Couldn't you buy an artificial arm? When a guy loses a leg, he puts on a false one.
It'd look better, huh? No, Reinhold.
It would just rub.
Well, I'd buy one for myself.
Or maybe stuff out the sleeve.
Come on.
Let's try it.
What for? Then you wouldn't run around with a floppy sleeve.
You don't have to see it a mile away.
What use is it to me? Just watch.
A few pairs of underpants, undershirts You'll see.
Reinhold, what use is it to me? It won't stay like that.
It'll look like a sausage.
No.
That's not right.
You must get a tailor to do it.
It's better like that.
You don't have to run around like a cripple.
It'd look as if you had your hand in your pocket.
I can't stand cripples.
A cripple's no good for anything.
When I see a cripple, I always say it'd be better to do away with him altogether.
That's more or less what I think too.
You know, you're right, Reinhold.
A cripple can't do as he wants anymore.
Maybe it'd really be better to do away with him altogether.
That's what I'm saying.
Yes, and you're right too.
I'll tell you one thing, Mieze: You can do what you like, but I'll never let you go.
Never.
You don't have to say that, Franz.
I'll never leave you.
Never.
See you this evening, then.
Wait a minute.
I was going out myself.
I'll come with you.
Mrs.
Bast.
Yes, Miss Mieze? We're going now.
Be so good as to close the window later.
About 6 or 6:30, okay? -Sure.
-Thanks.
-Bye, Mrs.
Bast.
-Bye.
Hello, Willy.
You're lucky.
I was just going out.
Hello, Franz.
Oh, I'm sorry.
This is Mieze, my Mieze.
And this is Willy.
We got to know each other.
We've been working together and so on.
-Hello.
-Hello.
I must be going, Franz.
-See you tonight, darling.
-Bye.
Well, what do you say now? Give me a hand.
The chick looks okay.
What do you mean, okay? She's an angel.
An angel, I tell you.
Didn't you see how innocent she looks, and how sweet? Sure I saw it.
I was amazed that a working girl could look like that.
-She does that because she loves me.
-Oh, boy.
Hi, Maxie.
-Hi, Franz.
-Boy, the weather's great.
A beer.
Double kuemmel.
Beer with a dash.
Waldmeister or raspberry? -Waldmeister.
-Okay, waldmeister.
Hello, birdy.
Come on.
You can bring the schnapps first.
Franz, Franz, what have they done with you? What's the problem, Maxie? Do you want to give a sermon every time? It's not a sermon, Franz, just the truth.
Or am I wrong? Didn't you swear to go straight? "Come with me", says the man to his son and sets out, and his son goes with him into the mountains.
"How much farther is it, Father?" "I don't know.
Just follow me.
" Uphill, downhill, through valleys they go.
The path is long.
It is midday.
"Here we are.
Look around you, my son.
There stands an altar.
" "I'm afraid, Father.
" "Why are you afraid, my son?" "You woke me early and we set out from home.
We forgot the ram we were going to slaughter.
" "Yes, we forgot it.
" "I'm afraid, Father.
" "I, too, am afraid, my son.
Come closer.
Don't be afraid.
We have to do it.
" "What do we have to do?" "Don't be afraid, my son.
Do it gladly.
Come closer to me.
I have already removed my coat.
Now I won't bloody my sleeves.
" "I'm afraid because you're holding the knife.
" "Yes, I am holding the knife.
For I must slaughter you, sacrifice you.
It is God's command.
Submit gladly, my son.
" "I don't want to be slaughtered.
" "Don't cry, my son.
If you are not willing, I cannot do it.
Submit gladly to it.
What do you want at home? God is more than just a home.
" "I cannot.
Yes, I can.
No, I cannot.
" "Come closer.
Look.
I'm holding the knife ready.
Look at it.
It's very sharp.
It's ready for your throat.
" "Is it to cut my throat?" "Yes.
" "Then the blood will gush out.
" "Yes.
That is what the Lord commands.
Do you want it?" "I cannot yet, Father.
" "I may not slay you.
If I do it, it must be as if you did it yourself.
" "I, myself?" "Yes, and you mustn't be afraid.
You may not love life, your own life.
You surrender it for the Lord.
Come closer.
" "The Lord, our God, wishes it?" "You would not be faint-hearted.
" "Put the knife to my throat.
Wait.
Let me turn back my collar so that my neck is completely free.
" "You just have to want it, and so must I.
We shall do it together.
Then the Lord will call.
We shall hear him call: 'Stop it!"' "Yes.
" "Come here.
Give me your neck.
" "Here.
I am not afraid.
I do it gladly.
Cleave me apart.
I shall not cry out.
" And the son leans his head back.
His father moves behind him, holds his son by the brow, wields the knife in his right hand.
His son wishes it.
The Lord calls out, and both fall prostrate.
What does the voice of the Lord call out? "Hallelujah! You are obedient to me.
Hallelujah! You shall live.
Hallelujah! Let it be.
Throw the knife into the abyss.
Hallelujah! I am the Lord, whom you obey, whom alone you must always obey.
Hallelujah!" You used to lead a foul life.
You fell into bad ways.
Then you killed lda, and served time for it.
And now? You see, you don't even have an answer.
You're back where you were again.
Ida is now Mieze, you've lost an arm, and you've started drinking again, just as bad as before.
And that means the same thing all over again, only worse.
And then it'll all be over, Franz.
Baloney.
Is it my fault? Was I so keen on becoming a pimp? Cut the crap.
I did what I could: everything humanly possible.
You saw that, didn't you? I even lost an arm.
Just let somebody say something.
I'm fed up with it.
Didn't I give it my best shot? Didn't I run around morning, noon and night? Suddenly I got the message.
Okay, so you're right.
What do I care? So I'm not a decent guy.
I'm a pimp, but I'm not ashamed of it.
And anyway, what are you? What do you live on? You live on other people too, don't you? Have I ever bled anyone dry? You know me, Franz.
You know me pretty well.
You know I wouldn't talk like this if I didn't like you.
You know that very well.
Yeah, maybe.
It's true, Franz.
One thing I can tell you: you'll end up in jail again, or with a knife in your gut.
Sure, so I get a knife in my gut.
That's okay.
But mark my words, Maxie: not before the other guy's had a taste of mine.
That's the one thing I don't understand, Franz, that you keep on doing this to yourself.
The same old story.
Well, I've always come here.
You see? That's what I mean: you always come here.
It's important not to stick with the same old things.
Don't you understand? Okay, that may be true.
But this is my hangout.
It doesn't have to be forever, though.
Yes, but-- No buts, Franz.
But I know what: There's a meeting today, in about half an hour.
They're talking about these things.
We'll go along.
A meeting? In the middle of the afternoon? Yes.
Why not? With all the unemployed around, they can hold their meetings in the afternoon.
And the few guys who still have jobs but who want to attend will just have to be sick today.
Okay.
What do I care? The German Reich is a republic, and anyone who doesn't believe it will get a bullet in the neck.
All the Reichstag is good for is taking the people for a ride, and the parties know that best of all.
Just look at the Socialists: they don't want anything, they know nothing and are not capable of anything.
They've got the most seats in the Reichstag, but they don't know what to do with them.
All they do is sit around in club chairs, smoking cigars and waiting to be made ministers.
That's what the workers gave their votes for, and their money too, so that 50 or 100 men can get fat at their expense.
The Socialists didn't seize political power.
Political power has seized the Socialists.
That's why we won't touch another ballot.
We won't vote anymore, because on a Sunday like that, it's healthier to take a spin in the country.
And why? Because the voters are tied down by legalities, and legalities mean coercion, the brute force of the ruling classes.
No one is meant to notice what the state really is.
Not even to see the cracks and crevices through which one could peep, because then even the greatest fool would realize that he's just another gullible voter.
One of the common herd, just one of the common herd.
What an infinite distance there is between him and the state of which he's meant to believe he's a part.
The bourgeoisie and the Socialists and the Communists are happy and shout in chorus: "All blessings come from above.
From the state, from law, from the authorities.
Freedom is anchored in the constitution.
" It's quite true that freedom's anchored there, anchored so firmly it's stuck fast.
You'll soon come to realize, ladies and gentlemen, just how firmly that freedom is stuck.
But elections are held, and more elections, and every time, they say things will certainly get better, most certainly.
But I can tell you, ladies and gentlemen, just how much better everything will get.
For example, soon the right to strike will be taken from us.
But we have the guillotine of the arbitration councils, under which we are free to move.
No, ladies and gentlemen, I tell you, it's all a cycle of endless blindness, and nothing will change.
The parliamentary system prolongs the misery of the working classes.
Egyptian slaves worked without machines for decades on a Pharaoh's tomb.
European workers Iabor for decades with machines to heap up some private fortune.
Progress? Maybe.
But for whom? Soon I'll be working, to help Krupp in Essen or Borsig earn a thousand marks more a month.
What choice do you have but to work, if you want to live? Just a minute.
Stand still a moment.
Tell me, please, what the difference is between you and someone from the Social Democrats.
Well Do you ask that in all seriousness? Sure I do.
Look, you stand at your lathe and take your two bits home with you, while your corporation distributes dividends earned from your work.
European workers slave away with machines for decades, heaping up some private fortune.
Is that true or not? -Yes, okay.
And what do you do? Come on, Franz, you tell him.
What the hell.
I'm not interested in political discussions.
This isn't a political discussion.
We're just talking about ourselves.
Out with it.
What kind of job do you have? There is a reaper whose name is Death.
I must weep and wail on the mountains and lament in the desert among the herds, for they are so ravaged that no one ventures there.
Both the birds of the heavens and the beasts, all are gone.
Come on.
Tell us what work you do.
Oh, I get around.
I do this and that.
I don't actually work.
I let others work for me.
So you're an entrepreneur with employees.
How many do you have? And what are you doing here anyway, if you're a capitalist? I want to reduce Jerusalem to rubble and the abode of jackals, and lay waste the cities of Judah, so that no one can dwell in them.
That's just an excuse.
What do you mean? Haven't you noticed I've got only one arm? That's the price I paid for working.
And that's why I don't want to hear anything about honest work.
I still don't understand, buddy, why you don't work.
If you don't have an honest job, you must have a dishonest one.
There you are.
He's caught on at last.
Come over here, Willy.
That's it: dishonest work.
Your honest work is slavery.
You said so yourself just now.
That's what honest work is, and I learned my lesson.
Okay, so you don't work.
But you don't seem to be on welfare either.
No, I'm not on welfare either.
Then I'd just like to ask, though it's none of my business, what you're doing here.
I was waiting for that question.
You were talking just now about damned wage slavery, and saying that we are all outcasts with no room to move.
Yes, but you weren't listening properly.
I was talking about refusing to work.
But to do that, you've got to have a job first.
And that's what I refuse to do.
That doesn't help us.
You might just as well go to bed.
I was talking about a strike, a mass strike, a general strike.
And that's what you call direct action? It's just talk.
Talk and more talk, yet you go to work and make the capitalists stronger.
You idiot.
-Hey.
You make shells for them, which they later use to shoot you dead.
And you want to teach me something? Did you hear that, Willy? Boy, it bowls you over.
I ask you again what work you do.
And I tell you again: nothing! Not a lick.
You can all kiss my ass, because I shouldn't do any work, according to your theory.
I'm not boosting any capitalists.
And I don't give a damn about your bitching and strikes and what you keep going on about, what's supposed to happen someday.
I don't give a damn.
You've got to stand on your own two feet.
What I need, I do myself.
I'm self-sufficient.
Just try to go it alone! Alone, you can't do anything.
We need militant organizations.
-What? We have to set up militant organizations.
Do you understand? That's what we have to establish: Militant organizations.
-Organizations.
I'd like to know what's going on in your head.
I'd really like to know that.
On the one hand, you preach and say you're against every system, against any kind of order and all organizations.
On the other hand, you want to set up militant organizations.
Don't you see there's something wrong in your head? Can't you see that? Words are wasted on you.
You can't think straight.
You've got a mental block.
You don't know what's important for the proletariat: Solidarity.
That's something you don't know.
Hello? Anybody there? My God, don't scare me like that.
It's not good for my heart.
Oh, I see.
Goes to your heart, does it? That too.
Herbert's here.
I see.
May I introduce my friend Willy? This is my sweetest friend, Eva.
-Hello.
Hello.
Come on in.
The company expresses its thanks and is open to further cooperation.
Who is it, honey? It sounds like that awful guy Franz Biberkopf.
You heard correctly, general.
Your ears are still the best-functioning organ you possess.
As an expert, I have to refute that emphatically.
You know best, madam.
Everyone's entitled to an opinion.
Am I right, or am I right? Hi, Herbert.
-Hi, Franz.
Haven't seen you in a long time.
-Well, if you don't keep in touch I was in Breslau for a few days.
I'm too polite to ask what business takes a guy to the provinces.
Let's have a drink.
What brings you to this godforsaken part of town in the middle of the day? There was some meeting just around the corner.
-Cheers.
-Politics these days.
With the present mess, nobody knows what's up.
-Exactly that, madam.
-"Madam".
That's why you have to keep up to date.
Willy may be young, but he's got opinions and ideas we'd never have thought of at his age.
It's true.
Young people are much further today.
They take a greater interest, think more.
Sure.
They've got more time.
Of course they've got more time, they're unemployed.
We have to use our time somehow, and thinking is one of the very few things in the world that doesn't cost anything.
And have you learned anything? I have learned something.
I've learned that the existing social order is based on the economic, political and social enslavement of the working people.
It is expressed in property rights, the monopoly of ownership, and in the state, the monopoly of power.
Production today is based not on satisfying natural human needs, but on the prospect of On the prospect of making a profit.
All technological progress increases the wealth of the propertied classes immeasurably, in shameless contrast to the misery of broad sections of the population.
Cheers.
Did you learn that by heart? Be honest.
You didn't learn that rubbish by heart? Yes, I did.
Even so, the idea's quite simple, really.
Namely, that the state, and that means the police, does more to help and protect the rights of people who already possess a lot anyway.
And the others, those who do the work, don't even think of I don't know, taking action against it all, or Or demanding their rights or whatever.
Cheers.
What you're saying is that there's no order anymore.
That's right.
What hogwash.
It's not possible.
What would become of the world without order? In my opinion, it has to be like that.
There have to be people who make sure you can cross the street in peace.
Bravo.
You've learned what you're supposed to think.
But don't kid yourself: Most people are made fools of because it's somehow not natural for there to be limits.
The earth, or whatever, belongs in the first instance to man.
The forests and everything.
Any limitations are artificial.
That's why you've learned that there has to be some kind of order and people to enforce it.
It's perfectly clear because the world, you see, everything somehow, the trees, the animals, and everything that grows, all that can function only for those who want to profit from it, when it's somehow When it's somehow all divided up.
When somehow When somehow it's all apportioned.
Then they've got everything better under control and Including the people.
Then they're somehow How should I put it? They're more useful.
More useful for those who rule.
Well, I really must be going now.
I'm meeting Mieze.
Ask her to be at the Mocca Fix at 7, would you? -I will.
-Willy, let's have another one.
I think it's strange.
What do you think is strange? That it's possible to talk and think for and against the same thing at the same time.
It's really strange.
Yes, well, that's life.
End of part nine, with