DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27180#0026
PYRAMID AND TEMPLE
agreeable shape without any meaning. Now we’re getting
down to it. One cannot help getting used to one’s surround-
ings in time; after a while we shall contrive to feel cold even
here, and perhaps develop unheard-of powers of resistance.
Maybe we shall actually look back with regret to our present
transitional state. At present the most animated topic of
conversation is always the great It. Ibrahim may regard us
as mere prospects; the bazaar episode may take what turn
it chooses: never mind - the great It stands there in the sky,
and it would be absurd to wrangle in its presence. As long
as it shines upon us, there shall be no problems. We have
also agreed to admit the secret hope that it may melt the last
ridiculous particle of ice and one day dispel it with all
appropriate finality.
As long as day lasts it goes on shining. The morning has
no social setting; it is no abstraction that you identify by the
calendar, but that ceases to exist beyond the sound of the
telephone bell and one’s professional duties and the other
incidents of one’s life in Berlin. On the contrary, it’s a
highly concrete affair that you can touch and feel and see.
I do not claim this as a particularly striking discovery; none
the less it is the fundamental fact one cannot help mentioning.
In this country the day is bright and the night is dark.
Furthermore, one feels less and less impelled to behave in
an original manner. In this brilliant light one needs none
of those ingenious subtleties that give zest to life at home.
One simply wants to be normal and dull and to let things
slide.
But while the stunted faculties are satisfied as soon as they
are relieved, those which are more accessible to the will are
always demanding to be exercised. Instead of lying quiet in
the warmth your mind is always prodding at your con-
sciousness. This is what makes it so different from Italy.
Here the sun doesn’t weaken you. In Sicily about this time
of year the days can be warmer by the thermometer than
20
agreeable shape without any meaning. Now we’re getting
down to it. One cannot help getting used to one’s surround-
ings in time; after a while we shall contrive to feel cold even
here, and perhaps develop unheard-of powers of resistance.
Maybe we shall actually look back with regret to our present
transitional state. At present the most animated topic of
conversation is always the great It. Ibrahim may regard us
as mere prospects; the bazaar episode may take what turn
it chooses: never mind - the great It stands there in the sky,
and it would be absurd to wrangle in its presence. As long
as it shines upon us, there shall be no problems. We have
also agreed to admit the secret hope that it may melt the last
ridiculous particle of ice and one day dispel it with all
appropriate finality.
As long as day lasts it goes on shining. The morning has
no social setting; it is no abstraction that you identify by the
calendar, but that ceases to exist beyond the sound of the
telephone bell and one’s professional duties and the other
incidents of one’s life in Berlin. On the contrary, it’s a
highly concrete affair that you can touch and feel and see.
I do not claim this as a particularly striking discovery; none
the less it is the fundamental fact one cannot help mentioning.
In this country the day is bright and the night is dark.
Furthermore, one feels less and less impelled to behave in
an original manner. In this brilliant light one needs none
of those ingenious subtleties that give zest to life at home.
One simply wants to be normal and dull and to let things
slide.
But while the stunted faculties are satisfied as soon as they
are relieved, those which are more accessible to the will are
always demanding to be exercised. Instead of lying quiet in
the warmth your mind is always prodding at your con-
sciousness. This is what makes it so different from Italy.
Here the sun doesn’t weaken you. In Sicily about this time
of year the days can be warmer by the thermometer than
20