(Not to be copied without authors� permission)
Foreplay
By Carl Djerassi
Original book version revised for Kings Head Theatre Premiere, London,May 2014
REDRAFT 5R
(with dramaturgical assistance� of Darren Tunstall, Andy Jordan, and Samantha Wright )
[email protected]������������������������������� www.djerassi.com
Reisnerstrasse 57/13����������������������������������� 1101 Green Street, Apt. 1501
A-1030 Vienna, Austria������������������� ����������� San Francisco, CA 94109
Foreword
Hannah Arendt (1906 � 1975), Theodor W. Adorno (1903 � 1969), and Walter Benjamin (1892 � 1940) justifiably are considered towering giants of the 20th century German intellectual scene. Arendt, a famous political theorist, and Adorno, one of the founders of the Frankfurt School of Social Theory and internationally recognized sociologist, philosopher, and musicologist, disliked each other intensely, but both admired, even worshipped, Benjamin. Adorno�s life-long womanizing (openly admitted to his wife Gretel, who even typed some of his love letters) and his intense preoccupation with his dreams are well documented, as is the range of the deeply personal and extensive correspondence between Benjamin and Gretel Adorno. It is also very likely that Benjamin carried a briefcase with him on his flight from France to Spain where he committed suicide in September 1940. The briefcase or its contents (though frequently speculated upon) were never found. Those are facts as is the relationship between Hannah Arendt and the philosopher Martin Heidegger.
But the depth of jealousy displayed by some of the persons, the putative contents of Benjamin�s lost grip, and Fr�ulein X�s blackmail are pure inventions on the part of a playwright, who spent over three years on biographical research in the archives and published literature of the protagonists as shown in the non-fictional, biographic account of these fascinating personages in my book, FOUR JEWS ON PARNASSUS�A CONVERSATION, Columbia University Press, New York 2008).
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Theodor (�Teddie�) W. Adorno (in his sixties)
Gretel Adorno, his wife (in her sixties)
Younger Gretel Adorno, his wife (in her thirties)
Hannah Arendt (in her sixties)
Walter Benjamin (in his early forties)
Fr�ulein X, a scholar (in her late twenties or early thirties)
TIME Late 1960s
Act 1
Scene 1
1967. Germany.� An Archive in Berlin, East Germany.� It�s after hours.
. A woman (X) is sitting on a chair by a desk, turned away from us. She waits as another figure � an archivist � crosses the stage carrying something. He deposits a bunch of documents carefully on the desk.
ARCHIVIST: HiersindSie.
X: Danke
ARCHIVIST: Siehabennur 20 minuten.
X: Bitte�
ARCHIVIST: 20 minuten!
She takes out a notebook and pen and begins transcribing the document as quickly as she can. As she does so, light comes up in another part of the stage on a young woman we don�t recognize. A Young Man we also don�t recognise appears and speaks:
:
YOUNG MAN (WALTER): The picture of the past flits by. The past can be seized only as an image which flashes up at the instant when it can be recognised and is never seen again. The truth will not run away from us. For every image of the past that is not recognised by the present as one of its own concerns threatens to disappear irretrievably. The good tidings which the historian of the past brings with throbbing heart may be lost in a void the very moment he opens his mouth.
YOUNG WOMAN: (YOUNG GRETEL) My dearest Walter, it was lovely to receive your last letter. It was eagerly awaited as it had been almost four weeks since I had heard from you. But my joy was all the more when I picked up the envelope and saw your handwriting. You know t I see our correspondence as a form of foreplay, and the longer the build-up the greater the intensity of what surely must follow.Do you know how much the secrecy of our feelings excites me? If only it were possible to show this to you in person.A single gesture would express much more than all these letters.
Suddenly, X swings around in her chair facing the audience. She stares at the document in her hand. She quickly reads it, then skims it again to be sure she�s read what she thinks she has.
X: Good God!
In a sudden hurry, shereaches forhernotebook and pen, swivelling backto her original position with back to the audience and begins transcribing the document as quickly as she can.
Lights go down again to black.
END OF SCENE 1
Scene 2
1967. The Adorno�s parlour.TeddieAdorno reclining on a �Freudian� sofa and basically free-associating, looking up to the ceiling rather than at Gretel Adorno, who sits across from him with a notebook and pencil in her hand. A small table is by her side. She does not write.
ADORNO:I dreamed that I had gone to a bordello� a fancy one: red damask, plush sofas, chandeliers, deep carpets. Rather Parisian�which is strange, considering how seldom I was in Paris.
:(No movement from Gretel)
ADORNO: Write it down please. I intend to publish this. So you need to be sure of the facts. Where was I?
GRETEL: You were in a whorehouse in Paris.
ADORNO:I didn�t say whorehouse, I said �bordello.�
GRETEL: I stand corrected, because my Teddie, the connoisseur, certainly knows the difference. But which was it? Paris or bordello?
ADORNO: Neither. It was just a dream. Now let�s continue. The Madam sits behind a desk�Louis Quatorze�inspecting me through her lorgnette.
GRETEL:A lorgnette rather than ordinary glasses?
ADORNO. Gretel, stop kibitzing! We�ll deal with such details when you�ve typed it all up. (Beat). But of course it was a lorgnette� she used it to point at me. And then, imagine what she did: shoved a piece of paper in my direction and asked me to fill it out. It was a questionnaire with the most amazing questions. Personal ones: the last book I had read� my favourite film� whether I played any musical instruments� did I prefer tennis over skiing�. Whether I snored�? I stopped reading and asked whether she was joking. �No,� she said, �every new client has to fill these out.� I told her that I considered such questions preposterous, considering why I had come. �Irrelevant,� she replied. �Before you can select a partner, we need to know whether you meet our standards.� What standards? I asked. �Every kind,� she replied. �Aesthetic� dialectic�
GRETEL, who had not written down a word and had continued to look down at her notebook, suddenly looks up. Her reaction may be ambiguous. Her hand may reach to her mouth to hide an impending laugh.
ADORNO: ...hermeneutic� psychoanalytic� linguistic� and of course hygienic. I was so taken aback that I started with the last. �What hygienic standards? Whether I brush my teeth or take a daily bath?� That�s when she really floored me. �We take those for granted� including regular use of a bidet.�
GRETEL: But you never use a bidet.
ADORNO: Few people in this country do�
GRETEL: You told her that?
ADORNO: Of course not. I made the mistake� in my dream that is� of simply saying �no bidet!� Period! �Surely you know what a bidet is?� she asked after making a disapproving scratch with her pen on the questionnaire. Before I could even tell her not to raise such idiotic questions, she proceeded to lecture me. (Sarcastically mimics her voice). �A bidet is used to wash one�s genitalia and anus� including inner buttocks, although occasionally people also wash their feet and even babies in it. But never mistake it for a urinal. Never!� (Reverts to his usual voice.) Stupid asshole!
GRETEL: Teddie. (Lifts the notebook). You wouldn�t want that kind of language in your book.
ADORNO: All right. How about �presumptuous bitch?�
GRETEL: I�d tone it down to �insolent witch.�
ADORNO: If you keep interrupting, I�ll forget the rest of the dream. (Beat). It turned out she wasn�t finished yet with bidets. (Sits up to face Gretel). Do you know where the word bidet comes from?
GRETEL: Are you asking me or did she ask you that?
ADORNO: Both. (Beat) So do you?
GRETEL: From the French.
ADORNO: (Irritated) Of course. But etymologically speaking.
GRETEL: No idea.
ADORNO: Nag!
GRETEL: You don�t have to be offensive!
ADORNO: And you needn�t be over-sensitive. Bidet comes from the French word for nag� meaning a horse. You mount a bidet the way you�d be riding a pony.
GRETEL: Where did you learn that?
ADORNO: From her.
GRETEL: I think I�ve had it with this dream.
ADORNO: Not yet. You simply won�t believe what she said next. (Switches to mimicking voice). �Do you own a penis washing machine? If not, then I can recommend the model our girls prefer. Otherwise, our rates for fellatio are tripled.� Amazing how many of my dreams deal with sex these days.
GRETEL: I, for one, am not amazed.
He smirks.
ADORNO: I�ve never kept anything from you. (Beat.) Well, virtually nothing.
GRETEL shrugs, but says nothing.
ADORNO: Now, read that back to me.
GRETEL: (Looks at her notebook) I can�t.
ADORNO: What do you mean you can�t? You disapprove? It�s not the first dream I�ve had about bordellos or prostitutes.You never complained before. So what�s different today?
����������� GRETEL just shakes her head.
ADORNO: Gretel!
GRETEL: Do you remember what you told me the other day?
ADORNO: I tell you lots of things. Give me a hint.
GRETEL: (Opens her notebook, turning some pages and then starts reading) �The more dreams are related or repeated, the greater the danger that they can�t be distinguished from reality.�
ADORNO: Gretel, what�s come over you?
����������� She shakes her head, but remains silent.
ADORNO: Gretel!
She puts the notebook and pencil on the small table and walks over to the sofa where Adorno is reclining. She moves his legs so as to provide space for her to sit down, having picked up some letters beforehand which she proceeds to go through.
GRETEL: Look at this! Another honorary doctorate!And from Vienna! That�s number 8, isn�t it?
ADORNO: Nine.
GRETEL Are you sure?
ADORNO Of course. Name me one academic, who doesn�t count his honorary degrees. And what�s this one for?
GRETEL (reading): For your invaluable contributions to sociology, philosophy .etc� for your contributions to aesthetics through your wok on Walter Benjamin.
ADORNO: Well well well
GRETEL: But shouldn�t they have picked up on your contributions to musicology, especially in Vienna where you actually studied with the almighty Sch�nberg and Alban Berg?
ADORNO (Grinning): I refuse to look an academic gift horse in the mouth. Let�s be honest: with honorary doctorates, it�s the number of them that counts. And, of course, how prestigious the institution that offers it. In this instance, Number 9 and coming from Vienna, are enough. Don�t you agree?
GRETEL: If you say so.
ADORNO: It�s a rather small pile today. What else is there of interest?
GRETEL:(Gretel is thoughtful) Remember your dream about the difference between equibrium and equilibrium?
ADORNO: Vaguely.
GRETEL: You said �equibrium� is the innermost equilibrium.
ADORNO: That was just a dream. There is no such thing as equibrium.
GRETEL: My dear husband, I beg to differ. The retention of one�s equibrium is vital..
ADORNO: Whose equibrium are you referring to?
GRETEL: Mine of course. Since I was never able to affect your equilibrium�
ADORNO: Meaning that I�m too cocksure?
GRETEL: I couldn�t have put it more accurately. To cope with your cocksure equilibrium, I had to maintain my own tenuous equibrium.
ADORNO: And for that you have now stopped taking dictation?
GRETEL: (Rises and gives him a kiss on his forehead.) I thought you�d understand. Now let�s read the rest of today�s mail.�
GRETEL: (handing some lettersto him) Fan mail. Fan mail. And bills. Just look at this electricity bill...I�m almost tempted to switch back to candles...
ADORNO:� And strain your eyes?� You�re the one taking dictation, so I�d hate to be the source of any lasting damage...
GRETEL:� I was being facetious. (Beat) you�ve really never been able to tell when I�m joking, Teddie... it�s one of the few things I�d alter about our union...(she flips through envelopes)...it would be nice to have a little fun now and...
Gretel stops on an envelope, and studies it. Teddie is oblivious.
ADORNO: You live with one of the most brilliant minds in Germany and you still want more?� Women are never satisfied...
Gretel opens the envelope and peruses the letter. She jumps slightly when she reaches the bottom.
ADORNO: Did you hear what I said Gretel?�
GRETEL: Teddie, do you know someone named Felicitas?�
����������� He thinks.
ADORNO: In what context?
GRETEL: (Reading) She says she�s one of your former students.
ADORNO: That�s hardly of much help, given the number of students I�ve had.
GRETEL: I don�t remember writing to her for you.
ADORNO: Then perhaps she wasn�t worth remembering. What does she want?� You know how busy I am�
GRETEL: It�s Walter Benjamin.
ADORNO: You just said it was someone � Felicitas, didn�t you say? Walter is dead...
GRETEL: She�s inviting us to dinner. Claims to have his briefcase � the one he lost.
ADORNO: Then we must go.
GRETEL: But--
ADORNO:� Walter�s briefcase, can it really have turned up after all these years?
GRETEL: But she�s a nobody. You said yourself, you can�t remember ever meeting this woman.
ADORNO: If his briefcase has been found after all of these years and we are associated with it, I could announce it at the honorary doctorate affair. Don�t you see, it�s perfect timing?
GRETEL: You go. You don�t need me there.
ADORNO: On the contrary, my dear, I�ll need you there, as a witness.
GRETEL: She could make up anything and you�re so desperate to obtain more of Walter�s memorabilia, you�ll accept whatever she says.
ADORNO: It�s just one evening.
GRETEL: All I�m saying is how can we believe her?
ADORNO: Doesn�t everyone deserve the benefit of the doubt?
BLACKOUT.
END OF SCENE 2
Scene 3
1967. Hannah Arendt�s apartment. Theodor Adorno entering. She greets himwith cigarette in hand.
ARENDT: Come in. To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?
ADORNO:My wife advised against my coming.
ARENDT: I�m not surprised. How is she?
ADORNO: Aging slowly and exceptionally gracefully.
ARENDT: That�s something to be envied. And what about you?
ADORNO: Aging less slowly and not at all gracefully.
ARENDT: (She nods once.) Please.� (She gestures towards a chair.) Take a seat.
����������� He does.
ADORNO: Why are you looking at me like that?
ARENDT: Like what?
ADORNO: One eye almost closed. Like a hunter, taking aim.
ARENDT: Has no one ever squinted at you?
ADORNO: That was no ordinary squint.
ARENDT:Blame it on the cigarette smoke. But perhaps you�re right. Nothing between us was ever ordinary.
ADORNO: Would you�ve pulled the trigger if you could?
ARENDT:Yes� I could have killed you more than once. But not today.
ADORNO: Would you care to elaborate?
ARENDT: You killed G�nther�s chances.
ADORNO: That was over 30 years ago.
ARENDT: Some events are remembered more clearly the nearer one gets to the end.
ADORNO: Be that as it may, but I didn�t kill your husband�s chances� I merely wanted to improve them.
ARENDT: By sabotaging his habilitation?
ADORNO: By postponing it.
ARENDT: All because his musicological thesis wasn�t Marxist enough? And because he admired Brecht?
ADORNO: Because he wasn�t Marxist enough up here! (Points to his head). Brecht�s Marxism started and ended there (points to his stomach)� or perhaps even lower down. And, of course, your husband�s enchantment with Heidegger�s philosophy. Rather astonishing, given your extracurricular intimacy with your professor � or didn�t he know about your romantic entanglement? But Hannah� all that was decades ago.
ARENDT: Don�t patronize me! We weren�t on a first name basis then� and it�s certainly too late now.
ADORNO: In that case, Frau Dr. Arendt, allow me to enlighten you. Thirty years after the events you refer to�specifically in 1963�in Vienna your husband and I had a very frank exchange about what had happened earlier. And when I repeated my earlier criticism of his musicological musings�
ARENDT (outraged): You call his philosophical research �musings?�
ADORNO: I was trying to be kind. �And do you know what your husband then said? �I�m 100% d�accord with your paragraph about my Habilitation thesis.�In my vocabulary, 100% d�accord means just that! He accepted that I was 100% correct, while you are still gnashing your teeth.�
ARENDT: Ha!
ADORNO: What do you mean Ha? Do you know what else he wrote? �I hardly need to emphasize that I totally grant your absolute superioritywith regard to your philosophy of music.�In other words, we made up and then continued a civilized relationship, whereas you keep harping�
ARENDT: (Jumps up) Just one moment. (Rushes out and reappears, waving some pages in her hand). G�ntherand I may be divorced, but we remain friends. I know all about that correspondence between the two of you� including his priceless picture of your professorial style. Here (lifts one page and starts reading) are just a few choice morsels written in 1963, not 30 years ago: �What really made any meaningful relation with you impossible was the impression of terrorism. In any conversation�despite your pronounced politeness and yourpronounced bourgeois demeanour�the other party feels physically cornered� �
ADORNO: (Dismissive) That was a long time ago. (Beat). He may have had indigestion.
ARENDT:� I see you haven�t changed� and let me assure you my digestion isn�t giving me any problems. (Pause as she shuffles some pages) Or listen to this:� (waves paper) from some notes he sent me about a meeting with you in Vienna just two years ago ��As the holder of a university chair as well as institute director, one does not have unlimited freedom to express precisely the things that nowadays ought to be said. Adorno, the great sociologist had abandoned his politics.�
ADORNO:Enough! If you wantto pull the trigger on G�nther�s behalf just say so without resorting to what are surely out-of-context citations.
ARENDT: Wait, I�m not quite finished. �Adornonever looks at you, but continually turns his head�partly in fear and partly out of greed�to see whether he has been noticed or whether a beautiful young woman happens to be about.�
ADORNO: Any other reasons why you wanted me dead?
ARENDT: I didn�t just want you dead� I wanted to be the one to kill you. (Beat) Walter Benjamin� who we both professed to love�
ADORNO: Why say �professed�? I did loveWalter.
ARENDT: We loved him for his mind� for what he stood for� for what he wrote� and mostly could not publish. When I met him in Marseilles�just before his flight across the Pyrenees and suicide� he said something terribly sad, which I�ve never forgotten. There was Walter� still in his forties�talking about aging in instalments. With him, he said, it had started with the heart, medically and emotionally. But thenit penetrated his spirit. No more longing for joyremained. And then he entrusted me with his most valuable papers. My memories and vestiges ofpride, he called them. Works we all thought ought to be preserved and published.
ADORNO: Of course.
ARENDT: How dare you say �of course?� Published means published� and in Walter�s case published in its entirety.
ADORNO: Nobody�s work merits publication in its entirety. Everybody needs a good editor.
ARENDT:Yet, another reason why I wanted to murder you. Walter made the unforgivable error of appointing you his literary executor� and I made the unforgivable error of following his instructions to hand over to you some of his most precious writings, because I did not thinkyou would dare to censor a dead man�s words.
ADORNO: �Censor� his work�. �sabotage� your husband�s habilitation! Dr. Hannah Arendt�s famously uncompromising vocabulary!
ARENDT You may have loved him� in your own solipsistic fashion� but you also had power over him, because during his last years Walter�s survival in Paris depended upon your financial support from New York.
ADORNO My having supported him� however meagrely� so that he could continue writing was surely no reason for murder.
ARENDT Power invariably implies domination and is always tainted by at least a touch of contempt for those one dominates. I resented that contempt of yours. Few people noticed it� but only some fundamental contempt of Walter could have led to your temerity to edit his work posthumously according to the gospel of Adorno. I should have published those papersmyself.
ADORNO Eventually you did, in English. It established his reputation in America.
ARENDT Much too late. You had already caused the damage in the language that above all others counted for Walter.
ADORNO And yet you agreed to my visiting you in your home?
ARENDT Out of curiosity. So why did you come?
ADORNO: Also curiosity. As a fellow �disciple� of Walter�s.
She makes prolonged, meaningful eye contact with him.� A hint of a smile plays around her lips.
ARENDT: Curiosity killed the cat, you know...
ADORNO: Yes...that�s what I�m hoping for.
He takes a letter out of his pocket and holds it out to her. She takes it from him and looks at the envelope.
ARENDT: This is addressed to your wife.
ADORNO: I�m aware of that.
ARENDT: Do you always intercept your wife�s correspondence?
ADORNO: We have no secrets from each other.
ARENDT:Commendable (beat) but unwise.
ADORNO (points to the envelope): If you open it, you�ll see it�s an invitation to a dinner party.
ARENDT: How popular you are!� And at such an advanced age!
ADORNO: So you aren�t going to ask what the occasion is?
ARENDT:� No, because I can see that you�re about to tell me.
ADORNO: I came because I wondered if you�d received one too? I think it may be of interest.
ARENDT: Let me see.� (She slides the letter out of the envelope)
ADORNO: I knew curiosity would get the better of you too...
She reads it.� Her expression changes from smug to resigned.
ARENDT: Walter�s grip�I know. I got one too.
She looks at him a moment, then puts the letter back in the envelope.
ADORNO:� And you weren�t going to tell me?
ARENDT: Could you blame me?� Neither of us know what that grip contains.� I wasn�t going to risk you deciding to censor it...
ADORNO: What makes you think she�s offering up the contents � whatever they might be � for publication?
ARENDT: Why else would she invite Benjamin�s literary executor?�
ADORNO: I�m not certain.� But I intend to find out.� Another reason I am going to take her up on her offer.
ARENDT:� You�re definitely not my ideal dinner companion, Herr Professor... but I guess we are both too curious about what�s on the menu.
ADORNO: So it would seem.
����������� He stands to leave, rearranging his outerwear.
ARENDT: Until then, I suppose...
����������� Adorno shakes his head in mock dismay.
END OF SCENE 3
Scene 4
As Fr�ulein X sets up the next scene, Young Gretel and Walterappear on either side of the stage in spotlights:
YOUNG GRETEL:� My dearest, I had never before realised as clearly as I did today what the �Du�, in our letters expresses�a sort of refuge in our lives, perhaps the most secret and solid thing I have. I received your second letter just after I had sent off my reply to you yesterday, and I wish to answer it immediately so that the pictures still reach you in Paris. Even if you are now no longer completely alone, which I am especially glad to hear, I would still like to keep you company in this somewhat primitive fashion. I put on the green dress for the occasion, and I am sure you will forgive me if my hairstyle is still from �31. To assist your imagination a little, I enclose a small sample of the material � for stroking.
WALTER: My dearest, I am delighted that you enjoyed the poems and that you thought of me as you read them, touching my words. As I sit here, I can picture you tracing the letters with your finger, the tip of which must surely have been smudged with ink, with my ink. Holding your letter to my nostrils, I breathe you in, and am almost overcome by your scent until the distance between us is as nothing. I love it you too have a passion for Brecht, another commonality, amongst so many. I�ve included one of his poems for you:
I want to go with the one I love.
I do not want to calculate the cost.
I do not want to think about whether it's good.
I do not want to know whether he loves me.
I want to go with whom I love.
.
����������� Fr�ulein X enters with 4 wine glasses as the door bells rings. She goes to the door.
From OSR we hear noisy arrivals.
Off:
GRETEL: No, thank you.� I�ll handle my jacket. My scarf is in the sleeve.
ADORNO: Please be careful with my hat. I don�t want it being crushed.� Thank you.
A loud noise from the hall.
ARENDT: No don�t. I�m fine, thank you.� Fine.� I�ll take my coat if you don�t mind. No, I will most certainly not put it out... I smoke like I breathe. Instead of objectingyou may bring me an ashtray.
Adorno, Gretel, Arendt, and a young woman, X, move into the dining room.��� A table set for dinner.� There are four places. Some tapers flicker. Gretel turns to face X, a seemingly self-assured young woman in her late twenties with a halting manner.
GRETEL (extending her hand):� Thank you so much for inviting us...Fr�ulein.
X (taking Gretel�s hand warmly) Please, just Felicitas. (Gretel jumps as though she�s been bitten.) It is I who should be extending thanks. I wasn�t sure you would come�
ADORNO : Now why would that be?
����������� Gretel elbows him.
GRETEL: (hisses) Teddie!
ADORNO: (Under his breath) Come on Gretel � she could at least start by being honest...
X: (gestures around herself) Isn�t it obvious?� I�m only a paltry PhD candidate...(she looks to Teddie)...I don�t expect you to remember me...
Teddie stares at her blankly.
X (slightly sarcastic tone): Goodness...I don�t think I�ve ever been surrounded by such intellectual giants � I should be all aflutter. Please, won�t you sit down?
ARENDT: That�s very kind.
ADORNO: I�m ravenous.
����������� X moves towards Teddie.
X: You Sir� � your lectures changed my life � simply put, after hearing you speak I could never again see the world as I�d originally viewed it � static, and unchanging � for I had learned how our very own thoughts could shape and transform reality....can I get you a drink?�
����������� Teddie shrugs.� He takes a seat at the head of the table.X sidles up to Hannah.
X: And you, Prof. Arendt. I suspectthat you had reservations about joining us tonight � perhaps you are still unclear as to why your presence was requested � but you�ll soon see that you are irreversibly woven into the academic fabric that I have been constructing over these many years. (Beat). I could hardly go ahead without your blessing... you, one of my great models. I am truly honoured by your presence.
����������� She comes last back to Gretel.� She takes both of Gretel�s hands in hers, smiling softly.
X: And you, Frau Adorno.
ADORNO (interrupts): Frau Doctor Adorno.
X: Of course, Frau Doctor. I feel like we know each other alreadylike we�re sisters beneath the skin.
Gretel looks uncomfortable. .
ADORNO (pipes up, ruining the moment): Don�t overdo the familiarity, Fr�ulein�
X (again interrupting quickly): Felicitas.
ADORNO: Yes, yes.... You said you have Walter Benjamin�s briefcase.You�ll understand if I challenge such a bold claim. Where, perchance, did you happen across it?
ARENDT: Well, Prof. Adorno certainly doesn�t beat around the bush, does he?
X: No, no, Prof. Adorno is quite right.� Of course he won�t take me at my word.� I must say � I�d be disappointed if he did!� So I shall explain myself.�
ADORNO: Please do.
GRETEL: Teddie, let her talk...
ARENDT: (to Gretel) It�s hardly his fault - I think letting others hold the floor goes against his nature.
X: Being noted scholars of Benjamin...and you, Herr Professor, his literary executor.
ADORNO: Indeed.
X: You must be familiar with his son, Stefan...
ADORNO: I�ve been in contact with Stefan... he doesn�t have the briefcase...
X: So I�m sure it�s not news to you that during the winter months in 1935 in Italy in San Remo, his father worked intensively on some manuscript that he refused to discuss with anyone. Apparently, rather untypical of Herr Doctor Benjamin.
ARENDT (impatiently) And?
ADORNO: (launches into a speech, taking centre-stage, loving the sound of his own voice and showing off his knowledge)Recently, I heardfrom Walter�s oldest friend, Gershom Scholem, that in 1932, Walter had written him a letter about a young man who had sublet his Berlin apartment and seemed to have broken into a locked cabinet of Walter�s manuscripts. Though nothing disappeared, he was enormously disturbed that someone had read the material he�d kept there. (Looks at Arendt puffing furiously on her cigarette).
X:May I interject? As you, of course, can appreciate, in the present phase of active Benjaminmania, where every scrap of paper of his is being studied, people have become intrigued by what might have been in that cabinet. Stefan was recently asked whether he knew anything andhe suddenly recalled his father had left behind a locked case in San Remo and had asked his ex-wife, Dora-Sophie, to hold ituntil his next return.
ADORNO (Taken aback):How did you find this out? And what makes you think that the Berlin locked cabinet and a locked case in San Remo contained the same documents?
X: We don�t, but itwas an intriguing idea.
ADORNO (Turning to Arendt)For once I agree with our hostess. Since Scholem knew more about Walter than anyone else, he then suggested that Stefan should go to San Remo to see whether that locked case still existed. Stefan didindeed follow his advice but he was greeted with such suspicion by the new owners of the villa in San Remo that he failed to even bring the subject up. So a few months ago, I went and asked� diplomatically, of course, explaining that I was the literary executor of Walter Benjamin. They told me that I was not the first to have made that enquiry.
ARENDT: May I? Just a simple question?
ADORNO: Since you are asking politely�
ARENDT: Were they referring to Stefan?
ADORNO: They were not. It was a woman. I assumed it was you.
ARENDT: I didn�t find it but perhaps someone else was also on the trail.
ADORNO: (To X) Don�t tell me you were that person?
X: Stefan thought at least one of the suitcases was left behind in San Remo. So I went to snoop around.
X: Fascinating conversation. We can get into all of this in more detail after dinner � wouldn�t you agree? Oh!
����������� She looks at her watch.�
Dinner!� I still have to attend to some finishing touches, will you excuse me? I trust you�ll be able to amuse yourselves until I return?� Terribly sorry...
She scurries off, and exits upstage in a fluster. The Adorno�s and Arendt are left staring at each other.
Music and lighting shift to indicate the passage of time.
Adorno & Gretel start to sit at the dining room table. Hannah wanders around, inspecting the contents of the room and smoking. After a moment:
ADORNO: She�s doing it on purpose.
GRETEL: �Doing what on purpose?
ADORNO: Keeping us waiting like this.
GRETEL: �Why would she do it on purpose?
ADORNO:� How should I know? I can�t even remember her.
GRETEL: Then why would you say that?
ADORNO:� Say what?
GRETEL:� You�re being obtuse. That she�s doing it on purpose, of course.
ADORNO:� Now you�re just trying to irritate me.� I am never obtuse.� You know that.� It would imply a slow wit.
����������� They wait.
GRETEL: Well she certainly seems to remember you.
ADORNO:� Of course she does.� Students idolize their professors. Especially female ones. You know that.
GRETEL:�� So you say. Often.
ADORNO:�� It�s the natural order.
GRETEL: The natural order?
ADORNO: Young women � nubile minds, empty vessels for knowledge�and there I stand in front of them: older, worldly, distinguished in my field...
����������� Hannah guffaws.� He shoots her a look.
ADORNO: Offering new horizons.� A world of knowledge, of ideas bristling with possibility.� It is the first time for many of these young students that they get a glimpse of this world � Plato�s world of �perfect forms� � every bit as real as the world of matter they are surrounded by...They idolise me.� Was it not this very alchemical reaction that drew you�a Ph.D. in chemistry-- to me when we first�
ARENDT (interrupts): Can I interject?
ADORNO:I�d prefer if you wouldn�t.
ARENDT: A letter wasn�t all I received.
Light on Adorno fades while light now focuses on Fr�ulein X holding a telephone.Arendt�s telephone rings.
ARENDT: (picks up phone) Yes?
X: Professor Arendt?
ARENDT: Who is this?
X: Are you Prof. Arendt?
ARENDT: I asked who is calling.
X: And I asked who is speaking..
ARENDT: Unless you answer my question, I shall hang up.
X: I�d advice against such a rash action. Both you� and Prof. Adorno �.would regret that.
ARENDT: Adorno? What on earth does Adorno have to do with me?
X: So you are Prof. Arendt! Good. (Beat).You received a letter.
ARENDT: Who is this?
X: An invitation to a dinner engagement. I expect you to attend.
ARENDT: I don�t like your threatening tone.
X: �Threatening� is your word�not mine. But whatever word you prefer, it applies to you as well as Prof. Adorno.
ARENDT: What�s all this about? And what has Adorno got to do with me?
X: To paraphrase a famous philosopher, threats� or gifts� aren�t just given or received, they can also be shared. In this instance, shared by the two of you.
ARENDT: I�m pleased to hear you quoting Martin Heidegger. (Beath) But I still want to know what Adorno has to do with this phone call.
X: Fair enough. I am asking you both for a small favour� a joint one.
ARENDT: What?
X: I look forward to seeing you.
ARENDT: What could Adorno and I possibly do for you?
X: Until Friday, Frau Arendt.
ARENDT: Wait. If the favour is not granted?
X: Two innocent bystanders will be ruined.
ARENDT:Who?
X: Gretel Adorno�
ARENDT: Why would I wish to save Adorno�s wife?
X: And Walter Benjamin.
Light on X fades while light now focuses on Adorno and Arendt who are resuming their earlier conversation.� Unnoticed, Gretel sinks slowly into a seat.
ADORNO: Wait a moment! Wait� a� moment! You are saying that you and I� two academics who have never agreed in or out of print on any topic� are now,together,expected to...do what?� To somehow protect my wife from�
ARENDT: Exactly, protect her from what?
ADORNO: This is preposterous, impertinent, insolent, absurd, unthinkable�
ARENDT: (trying to calm him down)I think I get the idea.
ADORNO: What on earth could she...
ARENDT: My esteemed Professor Adorno! She�s an ambitious PhD student��
ADORNO: So she says, but we aren�t in a classroom right now... correct me if I�m wrong, since you seem to have such a handle on the situation...
ARENDT:� No, you�re right.� But we are assumed to have connections. You certainly have� and we can both also claim some reputation in the field. I don�t believe any manuscript of yours has ever been turned down.
ADORNO: True� and for very good reasons.
ARENDT: So?
����������� X chooses that moment to re-enter � a steaming tray balanced precariously in her arms.
X: Dinner is served!
Lights to black.
END OF SCENE 4
Scene 5
1967. Germany.� Same Archive in East German Berlin.� It�s after hours. The archivist returns.
ARCHIVE ASSISTANT: Schluss!
X:(pleading) Bitte nur noch einige Minuten..
The archivist hesitates.
X: (Raises 3 fingers)Drei Minuten?
ARCHIVE ASSISTANT: (Raises 2 fingers) Zwei!
He goes. She carries on transcribing quickly as the reading of the letter resumes.
YOUNG WOMAN: We�ve never been to the operatogether. But one day, we must find an occasion when we can do that. In Berlin? Or Paris? The place is unimportant. By �we�, I mean the three of us including my husband, with me in the middle, Teddie to my right and you to my left. During the performance, you will reach into my pocket� discreetly. You will find that my left pocket is not a pocket, but an entry (beat).
X stops writing for a second to read. Then she carries on, as if excited by the contents.
YOUNG WOMAN: You will then do what needs to be done... following the tempo of the music. For the sake of discretion, I will have draped a long shawl across my lap. There are still some details to be worked out, including the appropriate opera, but this will have to wait until we all find ourselves in the same city. But now, I must ask you to destroy this letter immediately. It is intended purely for you and would be a disaster if anyone else lays hand on it.
The archive assistant returns once again.
ARCHIVE ASSISTANT: Fertig?
Frustrated but unable to argue, she gets up as he collects the document. They leave together.
Lights go down again to black.
END OF SCENE 5
Scene 6
Lights up � dinner table at Fr�ulein X�s.� X has regained confidence, acting quite self-possessed.� Her guests are picking politely at the rather simple meal. Adorno is getting inebriated on the wine. Arendt smokes at the table.� Gretel is put off by it.
ADORNO refills his glass.
GRETEL: Teddie, you don�t think you�ve had enough?
ADORNO: Not nearly.� (Turns to X) So you have the briefcase?�
GRETEL: (Frantically waving away the smoke) Frau Dr. Arendt.
ARENDT:� I�m afraid I need it to put me in the mood for what�s to come.
ADORNO: You mean the bag, the briefcase, the grip�
X:(Serving Gretel) The vanished contents of that black bag. Isn�t that what everyone is so curious about?
ARENDT (interrupts): So it was black! That�s what Lisa Fittko told me, who had led Benjamin across the Pyrennees.
X: What else were you told?
ARENDT: It was the most important manuscript of his life and that it was very heavy.
X: On that day, climbing over the mountains with hisheart condition, I�m sure everything seemed heavy.
ARENDT: A heavy bag implies a huge manuscript or books�: (Impatient) So what was in it?
ADORNO: Do you have any idea how many different hypotheses were raised?
X: And published! I�ve read most of them.
ADORNO: So out with it.
X: (Smiling) Indulge me� all of you�be patient and let me do it my own way. (To Adorno). Let�s start with you, Herr Adorno. Or must it still be Herr Professor? What do you think was in it?
ADORNO: I always thought it was the Arcades Project. If you count all his notes, drafts, quotations� even with his microscopic handwriting, it could make a briefcase feel heavy� not to think of the heavy reading it required.
X: (Laughing) You of all people should know that, but why would he drag it all over the Pyrenees? Didn�t he leavemost of it in Paris with his friend Georges Batailleat the Biblioth�queNationale? Didn�t they survive the war?
ADORNO: Of course, they did, or they never would have been published decades later. I know of three suitcases worth of documents, includingthe exquisite Angelus Novus painting by Paul Klee, which was Benjamin�s most valuable possession.
X: In that case, why presume that his �grip� should be stuffed with more detritus of the Arcades Project?
ADORNO: Well... (Pause). Many consider it his most important work� and certainly his biggest book.
X: (Ironic) Are you thinking of weight or of importance? Let�s be frank. In many respects, the book is unreadable, because it isn�t a book in the usual sense. Even the editors called it �a torso, a monumental fragment.�
ARENDT: So it was not the Arcades Project. What about his other unfinished work� on Baudelaire?
X: Not a bad guess.But no, there was no Baudelaire manuscript in that grip, not even �The Paris of the Second Empire in Baudelaire.�
GRETEL: Was it the �Philosophy of History�?
X:Plausible... but no.
ARENDT: What about the other essays� for instance the one on Art?
X:That had already been published in French before his death.�
ARENDT:We all know that. But was it complete? What about the theatre? He hardly paid any attention to the status of theatre work in terms of reproducibility�as multiple stagings, as revivals, as reconstructions,and even as language changes through translations. Not to mention what actors do to a play every time they reproduce it through performance.
X:You are getting warm! But you forgot that the grip was heavy! This manuscript, especially if it were still as unfinished as you suggest, was bound to be light.
ADORNO: Stop teasing us now.�
X: �One more hint. You know that in one respect, he was a firm believer in intellectual diversification.
ADORNO: Are you suggesting that it was not preservation he was concerned about?
X: (Amused) Perhaps.
ADORNO: That he took it with him so that others couldn�t see it?
X: (Amused) Well? Look what happened with his personal address book, which he had left behind. Small as it was, even that has now been published!
ADORNO I�m embarrassed to admit that I couldn�t resist going through it. It only shows how much voyeurism there is�even among his best friends.
X: Even? I�d think that such voyeurism would be especially pronounced among his friends. But you, as one of them, must have been disappointed. Instead of salacious addresses, one can see into what kind of a Schnorrer he had turned: Aid organizations, publishers�who often didn�t even reply, let alone publish his work�
ADORNO: It wasn�t that bad. There were also friends, lovers� even his former wife, Dora.
ARENDT: (ToX)Just a moment, you virtually admitted that the grip didn�t contain something to be preserved� but something he didn�t want discovered.
X: And what would be the motive?
GRETEL: Shame? Embarrassment?
X:How perceptive! After all, if he�d wanted to retain something valuable, he would�ve taken his Angelus Novuspainting with him.He left it behind� the single most valuable sheet of paper. If he�d sold it, he could have supported himself for several years on the proceeds. So why would he have carried a satchel worth of pages with him?� And assume for a moment that during that last year in Paris, he was thinking of writing something different� something that might be advantageous for him in his new life. Remember, he thought he might escape to join you and your husband in New York. In fact, he had started doing some research�
ADORNO: (Impatiently)How long are you going to draw this out?
X: (Beat). Tell me, what is the most personal topic an intelligent man might wish to address?
ARENDT: Memory.
X: An interesting answer, but no, that�s not it � (Turns to Adorno) Professor Adorno, what do you think?
ADORNO: Sex.
X: (Laughs) I thought you would come up with that answer� Porno Adorno�
ADORNO:Psychoanalysis is the only critical inquiry that seriously searches for the subjective conditions of objective irrationality. And sex is the key.
ARENDT:Are we close now?
X: Benjamin has written virtually nothing about pornography, but it�s a subject that preoccupied him all his life.
ADORNO:Let me hear your definition of pornography.
X:� . Where shall I begin?� Pygophilia�
ARENDT: Never heard of it.
X: �Pyge� comes from the Greek� for buttocks.
ARENDT: Pygophilia� fondness for the rear end?
ADORNO: Ass licking in the vernacular.
X: Pygophilia would apply to both activities. (Beat) Let me continue: Agalmatophilia.
ADORNO: I don�t even know how to spell the word.
X: �It refers to sexual attraction to statues.
ARENDT: Good God!
GRETEL: There used to be ancient statues with removable penises that were then used as dildos.
(They all stare at her, rather amazed at what she has just said � where did THAT come from??.)
X: Presbyophilia�
ARENDT: (Laughing) Love of Presbyterians. Surely that is not improper?
ADORNO: From the Greek presbus� old man�
X: Also known as gerontophilia� love of old men. And then Coprophilia�
ADORNO: That�s where I draw the line�
X: �I�d expect you to, although I can well imagine that Professor Adorno indulged on occasion in coprolalia. At least that does not smell.
ADORNO: Lots of people like filthy language� they just don�t admit it. (Gretel and Hannah stare at him, uneasily) I enjoy it� in moderation� in the right place.
ARENDT: This is revolting�
X: Of course it is�But suppose you were found carrying such a collection with you�
ARENDT: I wouldn�t be caught dead with it.
X:� Well? Neither would Benjamin!
ARENDT: This is insulting.���
����������� (She stands up)
My Benji would never...
ADORNO: YourBenji �
ARENDT: (to Adorno) You can�t bear it, can you?� That someone else may have had a � dare I say it � special relationship with Walter...
ADORNO: (scoffs) I�d hardly characterize anything you shared with Walter as special � or is that how you characterize all your dealings with men...
ARENDT: Are you calling me a slut?
ADORNO: If the shoe fits...
ARENDT: Ha!� I think my relationship with you would give the lie to that presumption...
GRETEL(Jumps up): Please, please, PLEASE!
(They suddenly fall silent and realize that she�s standing, eyes tightly shut, fists in balls)
ADORNO: Gretel � sit...
X: Frau Adorno�s quite right � can we be civilized for a moment?� This is a dinner party.� I didn�t invite you here to fight amongst yourselves...
(Slowly, Hannah sits.� So does Gretel.� Adorno is embarrassed, but hides it well.)
ADORNO: Alright, out with it.
X: I�d like to tell you.� I really would. But I must confess that I have an ulterior motive...
ADORNO: Am I the only one who suddenly fears that we�ve stepped into some kind of �B� movie?
ARENDT: Shhhh � let her finish...
X: As I told you on the phone, Frau Arendt, I need a favour. .�
ADORNO: But why should we �
X: In recognition of the one I�m going to do for you by showing you the briefcase...
ADORNO: I seem to detect a whiff of blackmail.�
X: I must insist that you never use that word with me again.
ARENDT: What would you call it?
X: Persuasion� not extortion.
ADORNO: Persuasion?
X (interrupts): Between colleagues, if not friends. (Beat).� As I told Dr. Arendt, I�m writing a book for my Ph.D. degree in which Walter Benjamin plays an important role.� You are his executors.
ADORNO: Executor! Singular! Not plural.
X: Both of you are recognized as foremost authorities. By co-authoring a simple foreword you could guarantee my book�s publication and help me launch my academic career.� It would be such a little thing.
ADORNO: �A foreword to some mysterious book on Walter Benjamin�s last days by an amateur author-�
X: Why do you call me an amateur?(Smiles secretively) I�d say in some cases I know more than you.�
ADORNO: Oh? About what?
X: (ignoring him) The foreword is to carry Professor Arendt�s and your names.
ADORNO: (trying to make light of the question) In that order?
X: Indeed. Hannah Arendt and Theodor Adorno.
ADORNO: Not the reverse� in alphabetical order.
X: Definitely not.
ADORNO: Any reason?
X: I have reasons for everything I am demanding of you.
ADORNO: What makes you think you are in a position to make demands?
X: That�s why we�re here.
ARENDT: (to Adorno) She�s right.� We came for the briefcase, not some culinary extravaganza.� Let�s be generous and grant her� provisionally that is� some negotiating power with us.
ADORNO: (Flustered) What she�s demanding is illegal.� What�s to stop us calling the police?
ARENDT: And tell them what? That somebody wants to �persuade� us to write a foreword for a book on a subject they won�t understand? Do you think the police even know who Walter Benjamin was... or for that matter who your wife is? Besides, there are no monetary demands.
X: Exactly.
ARENDT: I don�t mind... having a look... at the manuscript.(To X) I presume you have it here?
X: Naturally.� A very sensible approach, Frau Arendt.� Now you see why you were invited.� I�ll get the manuscript, and you can peruse it while I prepare dessert.
Lights to black.
END OF SCENE 6
Scene 7
A Young Woman and man appear. Behind them, Fr�ulein X is giving Arendt the manuscript and Gretel is helping Fr�ulein X clear the table.
YOUNG GRETEL: My dear, I would like to spend Christmas with you, but it is not possible, Teddie would never forgive me. I feel my ability to think declining and he does not know what I am going through. You know him, you must know what he means to me. Every word I say is connected to him, and if I lose that bond I will no longer exist. Forgive me, what I am writing is such a muddle that I do not know if you will find your way through it. I send you all my affection.
WALTER: Imagine my delight this morning when I finally held your envelope which, of course, I recognised instantly. It gave me a long time to think, both of my past and my future. As you know, my work is very dear to me, and always will be, yet as the year passed, I realised that there is something more, a foreign land beyond academia where my knowledge is lacking and my expertise counts for nothing.
The Adornos and Arendt sit at the dining table.� Arendt is hunched over a manuscript.� X is nowhere to be seen.
ADORNO: This is ridiculous.
GRETEL: Helping a student?� Don�t tell me you�re above it � after all, they idolize you...
ADORNO: A student who is blackmailing me.
GRETEL: You don�t know what her manuscript is like � it might be sensational, in the best sense of the word.
ADORNO: Or the worst.� I�m only here because I want to see that briefcase � and she�s making that difficult.� I don�t like it.
GRETEL:Yes.� The briefcase.� (Beat) I�ve got to ask you a question Teddie.
ADORNO: Well, we�ve certainly got the time, haven�t we? Go on then.
GRETEL:� A question I�ve never asked you directly.
ADORNO: Yes?
GRETEL: How jealous are you?
ADORNO:� In general� or of you?
GRETEL: Well� both.
ADORNO:� Professionally, I�m very jealous.
GRETEL: We both know that. I mean, otherwise.
ADORNO:� Of you?
GRETEL: Well, yes� for instance of me.
ADORNO: Never!
GRETEL: Good. And your other women?
ADORNO: It depends.
GRETEL: Could you elaborate?
ADORNO:� I could, but I won�t.
ARENDT (while tidying up the manuscript papers): I can�t�
ADORNO: What?
ARENDT:� I can�t put my name to this.� Take a quick glance.� Or rather, don�t.� It�s smut.
GRETEL: What do you mean, smut?
ARENDT: Some may even call portions of it pornographic.� I can�t bring myself to write a foreword recommending this.� I�m sorry.
Adorno gets up suddenly and grabs the manuscript from Hannah.� He scans it.
ARENDT: There�s something...just...tacky about the whole thing.� I�ve had enough of a pall cast over my reputation in the past.� This obsession with pornography.� I just....I can�t.
ADORNO (raising a page and turning to Arendt): I�m beginning to see what you mean...
Gretel watches Teddie intently.
GRETEL: What does it say?
ADORNO (lifting another page): Ask Frau Arendt, who has read more of it. It seems to be some sort of a diatribe on Benjamin�s erotic preferences... rather tawdry�a word I�d never associate with Walter.
X: That�s rich, coming from you...
X has appeared at the door.� She�s carrying a tray of dessert.� She puts it down on the table.� All attempts at false geniality have gone.� She eyes them coldly.
X: For the past four years, as part of my dissertation I have been working on an aspect of Walter Benjamin�s intellectual and personal history which is still largely unexplored� or shall we say, unexplained.
ADORNO: And what might that be?
X: His preoccupation during the last two years of his life in Paris... focusing on material such as letters, notes, drafts and the like...� that he may have carried with him as he fled from the Nazi�s.
ADORNO: You worked on Benjamin and I did not know about it?
X:As you have seen (Indicates manuscript) my thesis is primarily on Georges Bataille.
Adornoguffaws.
X: What�s so funny?
ADORNO: Georges Bataille the pornographer?
X: Again, that�s a surprisingly oversimplified characterization coming from you.
ADORNO: What do you want me to call him? A French philosopher? Even he rejected that classification.
X: How about a French surreal eroticist of the highest literary order? (Teddie scoffs.) Never mind. It was Walter Benjamin that led me here. I matriculated at the University of Mainz... close enough so that I could attend your lectures here in Frankfurt.
ADORNO: Really? I don�t recall-�
X: You had hundreds of students at your lectures. Why should you note a woman who usually sat deliberately in one of the last rows?� Suffice it to say that in my research on Walter Benjamin... the subject of the book for which I expect a glowing foreword by Hannah Arendt and Theodor W. Adorno... I came across an entire one-sided correspondence.
She gets her notebook from the table, and starts to read from it. Lights go to dark.� A spotlight comes up.� The young woman from before, YOUNGER GRETEL, walks on to the stage, and goes next to Gretel and begins to speak:
..
YOUNGER GRETEL:My very dear Walter, a thousand thanks for your last letter. Teddie has a great deal to do, is seeing new things and not finding any time to write. I feel very lonely and trapped here in big Berlin without my friends and I Iong so much to see you. If you want to make me quite especially happy please send me some of the pornographic writing you talked about. I have a feeling I see you differently than other people do, but you do not fare any the worst for it, as I still know everything they do, but unlike them it does not scare me off and prevent me from exploring other parts of you.
����������� Lights back to the dining room.� X scans the letter, and then flips to another page.
X: Now that we�ve established the personages, would you like to hear a reply?
Lights down again to the spotlight.� A man we don�t yet recognize (40�s) joins Younger Gretel in the spotlight.� It�s Benjamin.
WALTER:Do you remember that page from the Kamasutra I lent you? �He too had bared the front part of his body and she felt his naked flesh against her as he came into her. For a moment he was still inside her, turgid there and quivering. Then as he began to move, in the sudden helpless orgasm, there awoke in her new strange thrills rippling inside her. Whilst all her womb was open and soft, and softly clamoring, like a sea anemone under the tide, clamoring for him to come in again and make fulfillment for her. She clung to him unconscious in passion, and he never quite slipped from her, and she felt the soft bud of him within her stirring, and strange rhythms flushing up into her with a strange rhythmic growing motion, swelling and swelling till it filled all her cleaving consciousness, and then began again the unspeakable motion that was not really motion, but pure deepening whirlpools of sensation swirling deeper and deeper through all her tissue and consciousness, till she was one perfect concentric fluid of feeling, and she lay there crying in unconscious inarticulate cries.�
Lights go back to the dinner party.
ADORNO: How do I know that this is not pure fiction?
X: You are aware that some of Walter Benjamin�s most private papers, which he had left behind in Paris, were confiscated by the Gestapo. The material eventually ended up in roundabout fashion via Moscow in a partially restricted government archive in East Germany.
ADORNO: To which you gained �access�?
X: Correct.
ADORNO: How?
X:None of your business.
ADORNO: By dubious means, no doubt.
She glares at him, suppressing her anger.
X:You�re impertinent.
ADORNO: You say you have more of these in Benjamin�s briefcase?
X: �Precisely.
ADORNO: What do you plan to do with this information?
X: That will depend entirely on Professor Arendt and you. Once I receive confirmation that you both are in principle agreeable to satisfy my modest demand, it will be open for discussion.
ADORNO: (roars) I need to see this grip! Now!
X: And if I say no?
ADORNO: Then I�m calling your bluff!
X: In that case, let�s see who is bluffing.
����������� X turns and storms off to get the briefcase. They watch her go.
END OF SCENE 7 - END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
Scene 8
The YOUNG WOMAN, who we now understand to be YOUNGER GRETEL stands upstage. She looks through books and is taking inventory.
YOUNGER GRETEL: My precious Walter.
Walter enters. A pause as they look at each other.��
WALTER:Gretel, my dearest, my Felicitas, who�s your favourite literary personality?
A beat.
YOUNGER GRETEL: Present company excepted?
WALTER: No flattery.
YOUNGER GRETEL:In that case, I�d say Goethe.
WALTER: No� not Goethe. He�s such an overpowering polymath. Limit yourself to someone who�s just a literary personality� nothing else.
YOUNGER GRETEL: That limitation would also exclude my husband.
WALTER: I would exclude him on several grounds.
YOUNGER GRETEL: That still leaves an awful lot of candidates. For instance, what is your definition of �literary�? And do you mean only Germans?
WALTER: Good point. Alright, let�s restrict it to Germans... and Jewish.
YOUNGER GRETEL: My dear as well as dauntingly devious Walter. I believe you want to force me to come up with a choice you already made yourself.
WALTER: I wouldn�t force you to do anything. Remember, it�s all about temptation� temptation and force are incompatible. Call it guidance.
YOUNGER GRETEL:In that case guide me. Heinrich Heine�-
WALTER: Not pure poets� Let�s focus on a Jewish German literary personality and only a writer of fiction.
YOUNGER GRETEL: There can�t only be one. Not in any field.
WALTER: There is only one! Kafka!
YOUNGER GRETEL:(Laughs) Franz Kafka? Why not? What now?
WALTER:When it came to German prose, his was the purest. Try to describe him for me� your impression of Kafka as a person.
YOUNGER GRETEL: I�ve never met him.
WALTER: Nor have I. But how do you imagine him?
She thinks.
YOUNGER GRETEL: Depressed... insecure... perpetually unhappy... a fascinating conversationalist... a quasi-saintly genius, like you�
WALTER: What about his relations with women?
YOUNGER GRETEL: I don�t know...probably repressed.
WALTER: What would you say if I told you he was an obsessive habitu� of brothels?
YOUNGER GRETEL:I�d say it�s quite consistent with sexual repression� though not limited to such men.
WALTER: What if you learned that he was a collector of pornography?
YOUNGER GRETEL: I�d have to know what forbidden borders are being crossed.
WALTER: Your choice.
YOUNGER GRETEL: I thought we were discussing Kafka. What was he collecting? Impermissibly lewd language� descriptions of perverse acts -
WALTER: Mostly images.
YOUNGER GRETEL: Kinky or perverse?
WALTER: Hmm� words I�ve never heard you use before. How would you define the difference?
YOUNGER GRETEL: (Breezily) Kinky is doing it with a feather� it turns perverse when you use the whole chicken.
WALTER: Tantalizing.� I think we�ve started a whole new chapter.� Gretel, you keep surprising me. (Beat). Why didn�t we get married?
YOUNGER GRETEL: Walter... I love Teddie�. And you aren�t made for marriage� the ultimate consummation. Teddie is. You tried marriage, and failed. You are the master of foreplay.
WALTER:I plan to leave on the 1stof August,that is in two months� time.
YOUNGER GRETEL: We can write. You will continue to write, won�t you?
He has picked up a battered old grip.
WALTER:(smiling) You will do as I�ve asked and go through my library?� There is no one else I would entrust with such a private task.
LIGHTS fade out on Walterand focus on younger Gretel.
YOUNGER GRETEL: Walter, dearest.
He stops, his back to her, as though he is already half-returned to another world.
YOUNGER GRETEL: You must get out of Europe before it�s too late. Promise! Promise me you�ll leave! We can help�
WALTER: I�ll think about it.
YOUNGER GRETEL: No! You must promise.
WALTER: I�ll think about it.
She leaves. Lights go down. Walter is alone on stage:
BLACK OUT.
END OF SCENE 8
Scene 9
Present. Lights up on X�s Dining Room.Teddie paces. Hannah smokes, hiding a smug smile.
ADORNO: Gretel.
GRETEL: Yes.
ADORNO: We have to talk.
She stands still.
GRETEL: You mean about Walter?
ADORNO: About Walter and about you.
A pause. He takes a seat.
GRETEL: Now is not the time, Teddie.
ADORNO: Why not? I don�t hide anything from you, do I?
GRETEL: One can never be sure, can one? But I guess not.
ADORNO: Well then. Tell me about the letters.
GRETEL: We wrote to each other from time to time.
ADORNO: I want to see them.
GRETEL: Teddie!
ADORNO: Why won�t you show them to me? Is that so strange a request? You read all my letters. Is there any of this correspondence you have kept?
A small cough from Hannah.� Teddie whirls around.
ADORNO: You have something you�d like to contribute?
ARENDT: No... no.. .just that Heidegger and I never wanted others to know what was between us.
ADORNO: (Sarcastic) Yet your past affair is widely known by all.
ARENDT:Exactly. (Lights a cigarette and starts puffing). Eventually, I came to terms with that fact� and so should you.
ADORNO: I�ve had it with you! I suggest you light two cigarettes and puff them both simultaneously. Kill yourself, but do it quietly.
GRETEL: I have no idea how she would�vegot her hands on them.
ADORNO:� Gretel, think carefully.� Were there any that got away from you?� That say things you wouldn�t want others to read?
He produces a copy of one of Gretel�s letters.� He reads:
�Walter, my dearest Walter, This was an invitation I could not possibly resist. I have already started and you have no idea what excuses I had to make to Teddie�and to others� even my parents� to explain my sudden absences, since no one knows what I am doing. But just collecting the books you asked for� just holding them in my hands� made me feel as if I were actually touching you.�
Gretel is silent.
GRETEL: It was when he was in Paris... a long time ago.
ADORNO: Obviously.
GRETEL: Where did you get that letter?
ADORNO: She gave it to me.� A bargaining tool, she said.
GRETEL: I want to go home.
ARENDT: I think under the circumstances that would be unwise.
ADORNO: (To Hannah) Iguess it would be... too much... just too much to ask that you give us some privacy?!
ARENDT:I�m merely stating the obvious, She�s got us between her thumb and forefinger � like this � (she pinches her fingers together) I don�t think she�s about to let us go so easily.� It won�t do just thanking her for dinner and sending her a potted plant... at least I don�t think so.� It must be very uncomfortable for you, Herr Professor, for once being at a disadvantage...
����������� Teddie glares at Hannah, shooting daggers.
GRETEL: He asked me to prepare an inventory of his personal books since he wasn�t able to return to Berlin. His brother had already been arrested by the Gestapo.
ADORNO: This first name basis with Walter� this intimate tone� within what? Just weeks after you�d first met him?
GRETEL: (interrupts): It wasn�t weeks�
ADORNO: All right� months�
GRETEL: (interrupts): It wasn�t months�
ADORNO: Years?
GRETEL: Singular.
ADORNO: One year?
GRETEL:� One week.
����������� Hannah chuckles.
ADORNO: (To Hannah) Will you just shut up!
����������� Hannah feigns seriousness.
ADORNO:(To Gretel,outraged) One week? Seven days from Herr Doktor Benjamin to Walter? And starting with �Walter, comma, my dearest Walter� is very different from just �My dearest Walter� without that comma and an extra Walter.
GRETEL: Are we now arguing about the number of Walters and the placement of a comma?
ADORNO: It�s not just the placement, it�s the nuance!
GRETEL: It was just an informal gesture� a spontaneous one.
ADORNO: A grown-up woman addressing a grown-up man within one week by his first name is not informal. It wasn�t then, and it isn�t now.�
GRETEL: So what would you call the motivation?
ADORNO: Postcoital!
GRETEL: Teddie! So you are jealous!
ADORNO: We are discussing your behaviour� not my jealousy.
GRETEL: In that case, explain to me the operational feasibility of postcoital consummation between Walter and me while he was in Paris and I in Berlin?
ADORNO: You are limiting yourself to geographical coitus.
GRETEL: Are we suddenly moving into coital dialectics?
ADORNO: No dialectics... just simple interrogation. Psychic coitus by definition must be more intimate than physical.
GRETEL: I suppose so.
ADORNO: Is that all you have to say?
GRETEL: What else do you wish me to add?
ADORNO: Well, if we are going to discuss your shift from polite formality to sudden intimacy, how about telling me about the foreplay that Walter indulged in?
GRETEL: This is becoming too personal.
ADORNO: Walter�s foreplay is too personal for a personal discussion between husband and wife? A 7-day foreplay too personal for a marriage of years?
GRETEL: Yes.
ADORNO: Yes?
GRETEL: Yes.
ADORNO: I am astounded. No! Not astounded� shocked� wounded� and�to put it bluntly�royally pissed off.
GRETEL:What an avalanche of adjectives!
ADORNO: Just answer my question. (She looks away, remaining silent). Come on, Gretel, let�s hear it.
A pause.
GRETEL: He asked me to go through his library.
ADORNO: So you said.
GRETEL: You wanted to know about the foreplay, as you call it. Well. That�s where it started.
ADORNO: In his library?
GRETEL: Yes.
A beat.
ADORNO: A library. I see.�
GRETEL: He wanted to know which books he could leave behind and which should be shipped to him.
ADORNO: That must have been quite a chore. He was such a compulsive book collector.
GRETEL: Yes. But I wanted to help and I was curious.
ADORNO: Go on.
GRETEL: During my second visit, I discovered he had a double library.
ADORNO: Meaning?
GRETEL: On many shelves, behind the row of books was a second row.
ADORNO: So what? We do this all the time. Few true readers or bibliophiles have enough space on their shelves.
GRETEL:It wasn�t lack of space.
Silence.
ADORNO: What are you getting at, Gretel?
Pause.
ADORNO: Well?
GRETEL: Well what?
ADORNO: You discovered some books behind the books. That was it? The entire foreplay?
GRETEL: It was the beginning. The books behind the first row of books, on just one shelf...
A beat.
ADORNO: I see. The foreplay to the foreplay?
GRETEL: Precisely (Beat), but I didn�t know that then.
A pause.
ADORNO: I understand.
GRETEL:Perhaps.
ADORNO: Yes.
She falls silent.
ADORNO: There�s no need to get all mysterious about it. I can imagine perfectly well what passed between you.
Still, she remains silent, which frustrates him further.
ADORNO: Don�t look at me like that. There�s nothing, nothing at all, that you can surprise me with. Whatever little fantasy you and Walter shared, it�s nothing I haven�t heard or done before.
GRETEL:Oh, really? In that case, what�s your take on Doraphilia?
ADORNO: Ah... he wrote about his love for Dora? Given the manner their marriage ended, this would be interesting. Can you tell me more?
GRETEL: Doraphiliais an obsession with leather. Preferably black leather.
ADORNO: Is that why you started to wear�
GRETEL I could deny it, but I won�t.
ADORNO: And that�s what you found behind the row of books?
GRETEL: Just the first row.
ADORNO: Well, well. So he had an interest in erotica, only intellectually rather than physically, of course. But then, sexual imagination was always more exciting for you than physical performance. Wasn�t that why you never minded my telling you about other women?
GRETEL: I never stopped you from doing what you wanted, Teddie.
ADORNO: Except with you.
A beat.
ADORNO: This Fr�ulein Felicitas claims to have copies of other letters written by you.
GRETEL: How did she get her hands on them?
ADORNO:(A shrug, then) I suppose these letters would contain... more of the same?
GRETEL: I suppose they must.
ADORNO: There�s nothing else? Nothing you haven�t told me? We were never supposed to keep secrets from each other. But now I find that you have been keeping secrets from me.
GRETEL: What about Felicitas herself?
ADORNO: How can I have hidden her from you? I didn�t even remember who she was!
GRETEL: How convenient.�
ADORNO: This is not like us. Look at what this woman is already doing to us. And all because she wants to publish her silly little book.
GRETEL: How do you know it�s silly? How do you know it�s not full of astonishing revelations?
ADORNO: Well? Is it?
GRETEL: I don�t know, Teddie, do I?�
ADORNO: If it were, it would make me look foolish, wouldn�t it? Me, the world�s leading scholar on Walter Benjamin as well as protector of his reputation.�
GRETEL: Is that what you are afraid of?
ADORNO: Frankly, yes. It�s my work� my life, Gretel. I can�t afford to see it tarnished by this... whoever she is. (Beat) But you. You�re afraid of something else, aren�t you? (Beat) You�d better tell me, Gretel, if you want me to help.
A pause.
GRETEL: I wrote some letters to Walter that must never, ever be published.
Silence.
Teddie wheels around, heading for the exit.
GRETEL: Teddie? Teddie where are you going?
ADORNO: I need some air.
GRETEL: You don�t have your coat!
ADORNO: I don�t care!
He exits.� The sound of a door slamming.� Gretel looks across to Hannah who slowly turns to meet her eyes.
BLACK OUT.
END OF SCENE 9.
Scene 10
Hannah and Gretel are alone in the Dining Room.�
HANNAH:You knew? So how did you find out?
GRETEL:First, it was her letter. Sincerely, Felicitas. She used the name Walter called me in his letters. She probably made it up so that I would notice her letter. You have no idea how many letters I receive from women claiming to have been Teddie�s student lovers?.
HANNAH: I can imagine.
GRETEL: I doubt it.
Hannah lights her cigarette.
GRETEL: The strange thing is, I knew about most of his women. Teddie did not keep secrets from me,quite the reverse. At times, he would talk about his relations with them in obsessive detail.
HANNAH: That must have been difficult for you.
GRETEL: I would rather have known than not known. But yes, I can�t pretend I found it easy.
HANNAH: So, what was the strange thing? The fact that you didn�t know about this one?
GRETEL: The fact that he didn�t remember anything about her. Not one thing. That�s not like him.
Hannah considers this as she smokes.
�She�s seen most of my letters to Walter. Now she wants the missing pieces.
HANNAH: Yes� his letters to you. For her book.
GRETEL: I don�t want her to see them.
HANNAH: Then say no.
GRETEL: More than that: I don�t want that book of hers to be published. It�s my private life� my most intimate past�and she just wants to rake over it in pursuit of her selfish career ambitions.
HANNAH: Hm.
GRETEL: She has no right.
HANNAH: I don�t see how we can stop her. The book is about Walter, not you. Perhaps we could threaten to sue for libel, defamation of character, or something � but I suspect she�d publish anyway, if it means that much to her. And if we don�t give her something, she�ll probably defame him and you even more than she intended to, just out of spite. But if we could persuade her to leave some things out of the final draft... that might work.
GRETEL: You have to help me.
HANNAH: So, where are the letters?
GRETEL:I brought them with me. (Gretel takes out a packet of letters from her oversized purse.) I barely have the energy left to guard my husband�s reputation.
HANNAH: Something that size would require a lot of energy, that�s true.
GRETEL: I�m not interested in the dirt. (A pause) Look. I hope what I�m about to tell you will not come as a complete surprise. I hardly know you. I�m not even sure I like you... at least not yet, given what transpired in the past between you and Teddie. But my intuition tells me to trust you. In the most solid form of trust, uncontaminated by affection or friendship. And I know that in your own way you also loved Walter and will not let any harm come to him.
HANNAH: Go on.
GRETEL: I wanted to stay out of this.
HANNAH: You mean over Walter.
GRETEL: Because it would hurt Teddie. Walter�s letters to me would hurt him more than he would care to admit. I know, ironic, isn�t it?
HANNAH: Yes, sex in the mind. It�s more complicated and it lasts longer than in the flesh.
GRETEL: Ilost count of the women he�d slept with. (A pause). I don�t know why I�m telling you these things�.One night when we were arguing about sex, which we did often at that time he accused me of virtual celibacy. I�ve never told anyone that before. It was one of the few times when I lost my temper and told him he was focusing purely on quantity and physicality. The mathematical approach. What about mental adultery or even promiscuity on the part of a virtually celibate person? We never again spoke about this. (Beat). I truly loved them. Teddie and Walter. I loved them both. Do what you think best, just please keep both men out of it.
HANNAH: I�ll do what I can. May I take the letters now? It might give me bargaining power.
GRETEL(nods): I don�t think you will misuse them.
Gretel hands over the letters.
HANNAH: I shall resist the enormous temptation of wanting to read them, butyou are right to trust your intuition.
GRETEL: Thank you.
Gretel briefly embraces Hannah. Long pause.
GRETEL: One more thing you should know. Walter did write me to return a few letters, which he felt he would incorporate into his final work. He promised to dedicate it to me. So I did return them.
HANNAH: You mean she has actually seen some of his letters in the East Germanarchives?
GRETEL: I doubt it. I think they were in the bag he carried with him over the Pyrenees,the one that disappeared forever. �Or so I thought.
HANNAH: I think this would be a good moment for you to disappear... temporarily.�
Gretel nods.
GRETEL: I�ll go out for a while.
HANNAH: Thank you. Give me an hour or so. When your husband returns, I shall tell him that you also stormed off.� (She smiles) That should frighten him into a more malleable state of mind.� I shall open the window to give you a signal to return. Take a walk around the park, or go to that pleasant little caf� just around the corner.
GRETEL: Fine.
HANNAH: And Gretel...
GRETEL: Yes?
HANNAH: Take my coat.� It�s cold outside.
����������� Gretel smiles.�����������������������������������������������������
����������� BLACK OUT.
END OF SCENE 10
Scene 11
Lights.� X�s Dining Room.� Hannah sits, smoking pensively. X appears at the door, holding a briefcase. It�s old and beaten up.�
Hannah looks up, sees the grip, and exhales a smoke cloud slowly.
ARENDT: That�s it?
X: Where are the others?
ARENDT: Can I see it?
X: No.� Where is Professor Adorno?
ARENDT:� He�ll be back.� He had to go for a walk.
X: And his wife?
ARENDT: Also had to go for a walk.� Aids digestion, you know.
X: So they left?
ARENDT: Yes, but not together.�
����������� X sinks into a chair.
ARENDT: I was thinking, maybe a digestif.
X: I don�t have anything.
ARENDT: Shame.� I could really go for some Scotch.
����������� She strokes the briefcase.
X: I�ll never have anything.
ARENDT: That seems like a rather all-consuming statement.
X: Do you know how long I�ve been working on that book you so summarily dismissed?
ARENDT: See � this is why we need the Scotch.
X: I guess it doesn�t matter.� People like you...
ARENDT: People like me?
X: And him.
ARENDT: Adorno?� Well, I admit considering others isn�t really his strong suit...
X: He had the power to change my life in an instant.
ARENDT: But then, why start with me?
X: Your mutual dislike is well known in academic circles.
ARENDT: I won�t deny that.
X: I thought you�d be interested in what I�ve come upon in my research on Benjamin. A literary treasure trove so staggering that it will surprise even the most sophisticated Benjaminologists.
ARENDT: But there are many other admirers of Benjamin.
X: True, but you and Prof. Adorno head that list� and not just as admirers. You were crucial to his posthumous canonization. Not unlike the relation between Kafka and Max Brod. As you know just before his death, Kafka�another product of posthumous canonization�wrote to his friend that everything he might leave behind in the way of diaries, manuscripts, letters, sketches, and so on was to be burned unread. Suppose I told you that Kafka�s letters were not burned. That they were confiscated by the Gestapo in 1933.
ARENDT: Are you now fantasizing or is that supposed to be factual?
X: For the sake of my argument, assume it is factual� including that there was a great deal of pornographic material among Kafka�s unburned papers.
ARENDT: I think that by now you have wasted half my time� although I am not yet certain which half.
X:What if I say that this applies to Benjamin and that I have seen some of that secret correspondence.
ARENDT: Underneath this fake formality I detect some vicious anger. Would you care to elaborate�
X: Why not? It may sway you to see how serious my request really is.
ARENDT: So we are returning to a request, rather than demand?
X: I am willing to make that small concession. Now listen carefully, if you wish to know where my anger really started��� You remember that I attended Professor Adorno�s lectures.
����������� Hannah nods.
X: For well over a year, I sat at the back and studied him through high-powered opera glasses, in a manner that probably few students, male or female, ever did. Just imagine how a woman looking at him for an hour at a time responded to Theodor Adorno, the verbal eroticist. It was his huge eyes. Deep, enormous black eyes, which dominated the face... and eye lashes that I could count. You know what I once said to a colleague? �All Adorno wants is to convince you how unbelievably vital, how profound, how enthusiastic, how significant his lectures are� every one of them, without a single exception. All that is then left for us enthralled groupies to say is �Yes Adorno, Sock it to me!�
ARENDT:I�ll try to use my imagination�
X:And don�t forget his body, which, although chubbily bourgeois, was capable of immense agility when he dealt with the young women who clustered around the podium after he finished his lectures.
ARENDT: I take it you were among them?
X After some months, I went up to him after a lecture to ask whether I could get some advice on my thesis research. He told me to make an appointment.� But when I went to his office, I faced the impenetrable barrier of his wife, who was in charge of deciding who would be allowed to see him. I, evidently, was marked by some curiosity that older women are good at discerning. So I used a more direct approach, having heard that he was not immune to such appeals by female students.� In a subsequent lecture, he stated that �Curiosity is a powerful human impulse� some distance below sex and greed�but far ahead of altruism.�
ARENDT: Did he say that? It�s an interesting idea.
X: Perhaps he was quoting someone else. (Arendt raises an eyebrow at this sarcastic remark). I waited for the last groupie to disappear after the lecture before suggesting to him that in my opinion, curiosity is not some distance below sex, but rather an indispensable component of it. Hevirtually undressed me with his eyes and then asked me for the evidence. When I volunteered that it was my personal experience, he suggested that this topic was worth further examination. I went that night assuming that he would also extend the courtesy of discussing my thesis topic with me as well as...�� (does not finish the sentence)
ARENDT: I presume you came voluntarily.
X: As voluntarily as most of his other women.
ARENDT:And you minded that?
X: Not at first...but a few weeks later was another matter. I don�t remember ever feeling so humiliated.
ARENDT:Why humiliated?
X: Because he didn�t remember me.
ARENDT: Well� how often did you meet?
X: Once� late at night.
ARENDT: (tries to joke). Perhaps it was too dark for him to have recognized your face.
X: What I considered memorable was what transpired that night� not the partner�s physiognomy.
ARENDT: I see.
X: I doubt that you do. (Beat). For that, I would�ve had to show you the marks on my body.
ARENDT: Yet you went back for more?
X: Not for more bruises, no. I went back because I thought that he was prepared to see me again. I was (hesitates)� �I wanted to talk about Benjamin. Verbal rather than physical intercourse. I didn�t want to take part in some sadomasochistic exercise. He hurt me deeply and I shall reciprocate.
ARENDT: What exactly were you wanting to talk about?
X: His opinions on my hypothesis about Benjamin�s interests in pornography� a rather different one from Kafka�s.
ARENDT And what might that have been?
X In the year before his suicide, Benjamin published his famous essay on Art in an Age of technological Reproduction. Could he not have then embarked on a counterpart, �Pornography in an Age of technological Reproduction�? I wanted Adorno�s take on my hypothesis. He never gave me the chance, so now I want to force him to do it in writing. I think Frau Adorno would understand and perhaps also you.
A pause.
ARENDT: So now, what are you expecting?
X: A career in academia.� To be respected.� And to guarantee that, I need your foreword to my book.� Yours and the high and mighty Professor Adorno�s of course.
HANNAH: I see. All of this for a book?
X: No, Professor Arendt,not just for a book, for my life, but also for revenge.
ARENDT: Let me offer you some advice: It is so much simpler to be hurt than to hurt.
X: How do you know that?
ARENDT: Experience by someone twice your age� and at times on both sides of the equation.� You see � I was once like you � a young and impressionable student...and I too once fell prey to the charms of an older authority figure...
X: Heidegger.� Everyone knows that.� But I fear that is where our similarities end... I mean, admittedly, Martin Heidegger was one of the most important German philosophers of his generation�
ARENDT: �The most important!
X: �I beg to differ and Professor Adorno would have done so even more vociferously. But that is not the point� whether he was number 1 or number 3. You, a Jewish student and he a Catholic ex-Theologian and proto-Nazi�
ARENDT: Not proto-Nazi. At best, a pseudo Nazi manqu� and only that for a limited time.
X: Good God! Are we now going to debate the nuances of Nazidom� or Nazihood� if there are such words? The question is simply why you, a Jew, defended such a person some decades later during his denazification trial?
ARENDT: You�re ignoring the effect upon a student of a professor�s willingness to commit adultery.� Something I�d thought you would understand only too well...
X:� I assumed you were different.
ARENDT: So did I� then. But years later, I found it�s more complicated than you think.
X: (Suddenly in low tone) It always is. Aren�t we all after felicity? I never experienced it� And you?
ARENDT: On occasion.
X: With Heidegger?
ARENDT: No, that was something else� even beyond felicity. But I did with Heinrich� my second husband.
X: Lucky you.
ARENDT:� What I�m trying to tell you is that however hurtful Adorno�s behaviour towards you may have been � it wasn�t you he was intending to hurt.
X: You weren�t there.�
ARENDT: I didn�t need to be.� It was the idea of you � of a young and nubile student submitting to his whims.� It was how you made him feel about himself.�� So if he�s guilty of something, he�s guilty of not allowing love and sex to be things independent of his intellect. A mistake I believe he�s paying for now.
X: Well � that hardly makes up for hurting me.
ARENDT: Actually � you were just as guilty.� Not for the bruises � even though you say you submitted to them willingly � but for harbouring a misconception and allowing it to become real for you.� You too had an idea about Professor Adorno � who he was and what he represented � what he could do for you, You were also rejecting reality in favour of the world of ideas.� Were you not?
����������� X is silent.
ARENDT: You know that I am right.� I am not painting myself in some faultless light � after all, when I was younger than you, I behaved exactly the same as you did.� I just think that in this circumstance you are holding a grudge where it does not serve you.
X: So what?� Forget about everything?� Hope to succeed without the help of connections?� In academia? I�m not that naive.
ARENDT: You may yet find that the world has more than one solution to most problems.
����������� Hannah stubs out her cigarette. She looks up at X.
ARENDT: If you ask nicely.
Hannah lights another cigarette, and hands it to X, who accepts it.� The two women lock eyes.
ARENDT:� You and I have more in common than you think.
����������� BLACKOUT.
END OF SCENE 11.
Scene 12
Flashback - Blackness.� Lights come up on Walter Benjamin, (40�s) sitting in an armchair in a small hotel room, his briefcase by his side. Perhaps we can hear outside the window some small sounds of passers-by or vehicles.
He takes out a letter and sits with it on his lap. He speaks to the audience.�
WALTER: Twenty-fifth of September 1940. I am in a little room in the Hotel de Francia just across the French border. With help from my friend Lisa Fittko, I have tried to get to you, Gretel and Teddie, in America by way of Spain and Portugal. But I don�t have a French exit visa, and there are rumours that the Spanish police are now checking all newcomers for such documents. All I have is a little money, and some morphine for my condition. There�s nothing left than to put an end to it. It will be here, in Portbou, in this small border town in the Pyrenees, where no one knows me, where my life will end. I do not have enough time left to write all the letters I would like to write.
There is a painting by Paul Klee called Angelus Novus.
As he speaks, the projected image of Klee�s Angelus Novus appears in the background and remains throughout the remainder of his speech.
It shows an angel who seems about to move away from something he stares at. His eyes are wide, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how the Angel of History must look. His face is turned towards the past. Where a chain of events appear before us, he sees only a single catastrophe, which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it at his feet.The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise and has got caught in his wings; it is so strong that the Angel can no longer close them. The storm drives him irresistibly into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows toward the sky. What we call progress is this storm.
Walter leaves as the image of the Angelus Novus disappears.
END OF SCENE 12
Scene 13�
Hannah and X sit side by side at the dining room, hunched over, deep in conversation, pouring over X�s manuscript. The door bursts open, and Adorno enters, followed by Gretel.
ADORNO: And my relating a dream to you was the last straw?
GRETEL: No.
ADORNO: (Long silence).So there�s nothing more to say?
GRETEL: No.
ADORNO: I will grant you that a library can be sexually titillating.�
GRETEL: I would even go beyond �titillating� to calling it �utterly seductive.�
ADORNO: Not that my library ever held that sway for you.
GRETEL:True. After all, as my husband you were hardly the forbidden fruit. Furthermore, as far as I am aware, none of your book shelves holds a second row of forbidden books ..the ultimate idea of a literary foreplay.
ADORNO: Ideas... now you�re talking like an academic.
GRETEL: And that threatens you?
ADORNO: (puzzled with himself) I don�t know...
ARENDT: Oh good. You found each other.
ADORNO: She was sitting in some cafe like nothing had happened.
GRETEL: Well, nothing had.
ADORNO: How can you...?
GRETEL: Walter and I didn�t do anything...
ADORNO: I�m talking about thinking, not doing.
GRETEL: Which is more than I can say for your many infidelities...
ADORNO: I�ve told you � those didn�t mean anything!
GRETEL: To me they did.�
ADORNO: I always understood you to be... monogamous.
GRETEL: I was. I am.�
ADORNO: No. You were mentally promiscuous.
GRETEL: And you were operationally promiscuous.
ADORNO: Yes, but� you always knew that. I never kept it from you. It was part of the arrangement.
GRETEL: (Ironic tone)Yes� the arrangement.�� I was your secretary, your housekeeper, your appointment watch dog, your general factotum� in other words your wife. I also handled your correspondence.
ADORNO: And what does this have to do with Walter?
GRETEL: An act of self-preservation. I dedicated all my waking hours to you� and did so willingly during all those years, in the process giving up every vestige of independence. I, who was a Ph.D. chemist� an industrial manager� a woman with a sharp mind� gave it all up� for you. It was only those years of secret letter writing to Walter�even my financial support of him� that made me feel like a woman in my own right. We called each other �Du� even though you and Walter still addressed each other as �Sie.� I had an intimacy with him that you didn�t.
ADORNO: An intimacy of language?
GRETEL: All we had were words.� You were chronically and openly unfaithful to me. I could cite chapter and verse since you never hid it. How about Ellen Dreyfus, Ren�e Nell, Charlotte Alexander, ArlettePielmann, the New York masochist Carol, and God knows who else? All but Charlotte and that Frankfurt lawyer Eva� were actresses�
ADORNO: Mostly actresses manqu�
GRETEL: Manqu� or real�The sex was real. The betrayal was real. it was all about sex and consummation. A need for beauty and for variety, which no wife of yours could ever satisfy.
ADORNO: Because we�re talking about hormones. I couldn�t help it.
GRETEL: It�s pheromones, not just hormones. You, Teddie, are living proof of the existence of human pheromones.
ADORNO: My wife, the chemist, showing off in the one discipline she surpasses her husband. But why not expand on this cryptic chemical message?
GRETEL: For one thing, you�re not exactly a handsome man�
ADORNO: I�ve never claimed to be. But where on your scale of handsomeness does Walter fall?
GRETEL: Not far from yours. What people like you and Walter secrete�� in inexhaustible abundance� is a form of intellectual aura that attracts intelligent, well educated women like moths to a burning candle. On your birthday, one of your former students raved about you on the radio. �Watching him philosophizing in front of female students was simply fantastic. All that was left for these women to say was,�Holy shit, Adorno!� No wonder that in spite of all your extracurricular sleeping around... your so-called love affairs� and all of them ultimately unhappy ones� I stuck around.
ADORNO: Why did you?
GRETEL: Because I know how short spontaneous chemical reactions last. Only covalent bonds persist.
ADORNO:�� Ever the chemist? (He holds up the letter.) And this?
GRETEL: Walter and I depended on each other. There are different types of bonds.
ADORNO: And it�s bonding that�s also behind this? (Again waves the letter).
GRETEL: Bonding and dependence!
ADORNO: What kind of a dependence?
GRETEL: For me, emotional�
ADORNO:� And for him?
GRETEL: The same.
ADORNO: Not financial?
GRETEL: I helped� and am not ashamed to admit it.� Remember I told him that I was adopting him in place of the child that I shall never have?� Not that I blame you. We both decided against bringingchildren into such a horrible a world, didn�t we?
ADORNO: And you regret it now?
GRETEL: Now I�m too old. Do you really think I enjoyed writing those letters to your paramours?� Imagining the things you were telling me, whenyou kissed me on the forehead each night and went to your separate bed?
ADORNO: A mutually agreed upon arrangement...
GRETEL: Yes.� You�d think so, wouldn�t you?�
ADORNO: We both sleep better...
GRETEL: One of us did.� The other was remembering what she had to type in those letters � to other women.� Can you blame me for wanting to write a few of my own?� In my case those fantasies were just that...
ADORNO: To you.� To me they are every bit as much of a betrayal...
ARENDT: Because ideas are your stock and trade.
ADORNO: Exactly.� (He takes in Hannah and the manuscript for the first time.) What are you doing?
ARENDT: Showing her how to earn some real respect in this field... from one woman to another.� You see � I�m recognizing her as a real person.� Someone I might even help.�
ADORNO: You�re helping her?
ARENDT: Where I can.
ADORNO: (Blustering) Well, good.
ARENDT: (Looking at Gretel) Yes.� I rather think you�ve learned your lesson.
����������� Gretel holds her eyes and says nothing.
Don�t worry � she won�t publish your letters.
ADORNO: That�s the first sensible thing anyone has said all evening.� Then she can give them back to my wife...
ARENDT: Oh, I doubt it.
ADORNO: Because she wants to have something to hold over me?� She wants to be able to make me dance?� Well it won�t work!
GRETEL: Teddie!
ARENDT: No... that�s not it.� I think she�s got all she needs from you.
����������� While they�re talking, X gets up and takes hold of the briefcase.
ADORNO: What?� She�s humiliated me?� (Turns to X) You wanted to leave a mark too?� Oh, yes, now I remember.� You liked it a bit rough didn�t you?
GRETEL: Oh my god.� You do remember her?
ADORNO: (Noticing the briefcase) Wait.� Is that the grip? (He glares at Hannah) Have you seen it?
ARENDT: Calm down Teddie.� No one has betrayed you.� Except in your mind.
ADORNO: (To X) You�ve been building towards this haven�t you?�
����������� He lunges at her.� She evades.
ADORNO: From what I remember, you were rather fond of the chase...
����������� Gretel tries to get in his way.� He barely registers her before he pushes her aside.
He lunges for the briefcase again, but misses.� He doesn�t notice, but X is getting closer and closer to the fireplace.
ADORNO: You minx.� You like a bit of a game, don�t you?�
GRETEL: Teddie!
����������� He goes for the briefcase again, and this time grabs a corner.� They struggle.
ADORNO: I imagine this whole evening has been great fun for you.
They fight over the grip, pulling back and forth.� Finally, Adorno loses his hand-hold, and releases it.� X stumbles backwards.� She catches herself on the mantle, then casually holds the grip over the fire, dangling it.
X: No, not fun. Far from it! Revenge is never fun.
Adorno and Arendt are frozen.� They don�t want to see Benjamin�s last writings destroyed.
ARENDT: Fr�ulein, I thought we agreed.� I�m helping you.� We�ll get you published.
����������� X ignores her, dangling the briefcase.
ARENDT: Please.� Anything he wrote is very significant work.
ADORNO: You want money?� If that�s what you�re after, I�ll pay you..
ARENDT: (Standing) Teddie! Can�t you see that money isn�t the issue here?
X: (To Arendt) You�ll keep your word?� You�ll help me?
ARENDT: Yes, of course I will.� I already said so.
X: Promise.
ARENDT: I promise.
X: I have a secret to tell you.
ADORNO: Another one?
X: You said I loved games.
����������� She holds the briefcase over the fire without dropping it.
ADORNO: For heaven�s sake, don�t do that.
Adorno lunges towards the fire to rescue the burning briefcase.� But he stops when Gretel steps in front of him.� He tries to move around her, but this time she�s not letting him by. There�s a new steeliness in her eyes.�
ADORNO: Gretel! Get out of my way!
Gretel does not budge. Adorno stares at her, then tries again without success to get past his wife.
X: I wouldn�t bother if I were you.� She�s angry enough with you tonight as it is.� No point getting wound up about another game of �let�s pretend�.
ARENDT: You may be desecrating documents of incredible historical significance to the very world you�re trying to enter.� Every second that grip burns. You know that.
X: I don�t see it that way. It is incriminating research material for the Pornography project I told you about. If it is found, it will give the impression of Benjamin as an active pornographer..Am I notdoing everybody a favour by destroying it.
����������� They all stare at her.
X: (To Adorno) You�re right.� I like games.� So let�s play. I�ll start
She throws the grip onto the floor at his feet.
Now it�s your turn.
Adorno grabs the briefcase. He tries to open it.
ADORNO: It�s locked. Where�s the key?
X: Ah, the key. I�ll give you the key after the book is published. With your foreword in it.
Adorno turns to Gretel, then to Arendt.
ADORNO: Why are you helping her? Why?
ARENDT: I think she�s waited long enough to get her life back, don�t you?
ADORNO: I could always just force open the lock.
X: Oh, Professor. Do you really think that�s the real one? If so, it wouldn�t be much of a game, would it?
ADORNO: What?
ARENDT: That�s not the real grip?
X: Of course not! How else could I have persuaded you to come?
ADORNO: I don�t believe you have it.
X: Then wait and see what happens when I show the world what I�ve found.
Pause
ADORNO: I refuse to be blackmailed. I refuse to have my wife�s name � my marriage � wrecked by some vindictive little bitch.
He throws the grip down and storms out. A moment later he comes back in.
ADORNO: Gretel. Why aren�t you coming? I�ve had enough.
GRETEL: I have not. I�ll join you later.
He exits again. Gretel stands up slowly.
GRETEL: If Walter were here (turns to Arendt)�� he would have asked me
A pause as Arendt surveys the briefcase. X is in a chair, not looking at her, visibly upset to the audience.
Why did I never destroy the letters? (Beat). Because I needed them to cope with Teddie�s perpetual unfaithfulness. I kept rereading them� a perpetual foreplay. But maybe I also wanted Teddie to come across them.At the time of Walter�s suicide, hardly anyone knew what a genius had been lost. But now, thanks to Teddie, Walter is on Parnassus. He�s become the Angel of History he saw in Klee�s Angelus Novus painting. So let the letters be burned.
X: There are no letters. I just found the ones I gave you. I only extrapolated that there must be more. But I knew you�d all come if I said I had the briefcase. It was only an idea. It was just an idea all along.
The lights go down as the picture of the Angelus novus reappears in the background. BENJAMIN appears with �thereal grip, takes out the mass of papers and frantically looks through them. He finds one and tears it up, then another, then another. But then he gives up looking for more of them and instead grabs piles of the pages and faster and faster tears them into small pieces, and throws them up into the air so that they fall over him, like the debris in Klee�s picture
The lights dim gradually as Benjamin picks up the scraps and throws them into the fire.
THE END