Wittgenstein's Nephew by Thomas Bernhard Read Free Book Online Page A

thirty miles, or two hundred and sixty round trip. When he was
ripe
again, as he put it, he could not hold a glass and would lose control and burst into tears at any moment. When one met him he was always dressed in extremely elegant clothes, either bequests from friends who had died or presents from friends who were still alive. He would be sitting in the Sacher at ten in the morning in a white suit, in the Bräunerhof at half-past eleven in a gray striped suit, in the Ambassador at half-past one in a black suit, and at half-past three in the afternoon he would be back at the Sacher, wearing a fawn suit. Wherever he was walking or standing he would intone not only whole Wagner arias but often half of
Siegfried
or
Die Walküre
in his cracked voice, oblivious of his surroundings. In the street he would ask complete strangers whether they did not agree that listening to music had become unbearable now that Klemperer was gone. Most of them had never heard of Klemperer and had not the least notion about music, but that did not worry him. When the mood took him, he would deliver a lecture on Stravinsky or
Die Frau ohne Schatten
in the middle of the street and announce that he was
shortly
going to produce
Die Frau ohne Schatten
on the Traunsee, with the world’s finest musicians.
Die Frau ohne Schatten
was his favorite opera, apart from those of Wagner. Indeed he repeatedly asked the most famous singers what fees they would demand for a guest appearance in
Die Frau ohne Schatten
on the Traunsee.
I’ll build a floating stage
, he often said,
and the Philharmonic will play on another floating stage under the Traunstein
. Die Frau ohne Schatten
has got to be done on the Traunsee
, he said.
It has to be performed between Traunkirchen and Traunstein.Klemperer’s death has thwarted my plans
, he said.
With Böhm conducting
, Die Frau ohne Schatten
is like the morning after the night before
. On one occasion he took it into his head to go to Knize’s, the best and most expensive tailors in Vienna, and have himself measured for two white tailcoats. When they were made, he informed the firm that it was absurd to deliver two white tailcoats to him when he had not even ordered
a black one
. Did they think he was crazy? In fact he was in and out of Knize’s for weeks simply to arrange for alterations to the two tailcoats he had ordered. Not just for weeks but for months, the firm of Knize had been pestered by Paul’s requests for alterations, and the moment the two white tailcoats were ready he denied having ordered them.
White tailcoats! Do they think I’m crazy? I wouldn’t have two white tailcoats made, and certainly not by Knize’s!
Armed with a wad of evidence, the firm demanded payment, and of course, as Paul had no money, the Wittgenstein family had to foot the bill. After this affair Paul naturally ended up in Steinhof again. His relatives preferred to have him there rather than at large, as they could not help thinking that he always grossly abused his freedom. They hated him, even though (indeed precisely because) he was, as I saw it, their most delightful product. It was grotesque that we should both suddenly find ourselves on the Wilhelminenberg, our hill of destiny, and in our appropriate departments, I in the pulmonary department and he in the mental department. He often tried to count on his fingers the number of times he had been in Steinhof or Niedernhart (that is to say, the Wagner-Jauregg Hospital), but he did not have enough fingers and never arrived at the right figure. During the first half of his life money was noobject, because, like his uncle Ludwig, he had vast quantities of it at his disposal—inexhaustible quantities, it seemed to them—but during the second half, when he had none left, it became crucially important. During this second half of his life he went on behaving for several years as he had done in the first half, and this led to fierce quarrels with his