When Robert Walser got angry
Sew on his buttons himself: Robert Walser
Quelle: picture-alliance / akg-images
Swiss writer Robert Walser was desperately poor for most of his life. But once, in Berlin, he allowed himself to charge a hefty bill. What had gotten into him – and could he get away with it?
FAn author used to spend his life sitting (at his desk) or standing (at a high desk) or dictating (Goethe) or in bed (Proust), but in any case: inside, in the house. He must have a penchant for quiet and solitude, and the famous room to himself. But what if he was restless by nature, craved fresh air and liked nothing more than to wander the landscapes of his homeland like Robert Walser, the Swiss?
Bulky, complicated novels could not be written along the way, but many, many “pieces of prose” jotted down in a notebook could be written, and Walser was a master at composing them. There is talk of mild evenings, of villa owners who like to accommodate a young wanderer, but also of poor, bitterly cold rooms and an “honest shirt button” that the author himself has to sew on again. Newspapers and magazines printed such texts as stopgaps or showpieces, but since they were meant to be short, they were poorly paid for. Traces of poverty run through Walser’s work, noticed fleetingly by most readers, but there were also lovers who praised him, for example Kafka and Hermann Hesse.
So just “Small prose from rural areas”? No no. From 1905 to 1913 the poet lived in Berlin, where his brother Karl succeeded as a painter and stage designer and introduced the young wanderer to literary circles, and although Robert roamed around Berlin as usual, looking at boulevards and backyards, he also sat for long hours writing Table. In this way he produced three novels in four years, the heart of his fame. All were published by Bruno Cassirer’s fine publishing house, where Christian Morgenstern was his enthusiastic editor. In addition, of course, other “pieces” were created for the major Berlin newspapers such as “Die Woche”. One of their editors, perhaps even the publisher Paul Dobert himself, liked them so much that he suggested that Walser deliver a novel, as quickly as possible, and that he should add the fee at the same time.
“The Helper” costs
What a chance! And at exactly the right time, since the quiet, idiosyncratic Swiss had just finished the novel “The Helper”, in an incredible six weeks! He happily sent the manuscript to the editors after putting a bill for 8,000 German marks on top. That still sounds daring today. In 1908, a liter of beer cost 24 pfennigs and a kilo of rye bread 23 pfennigs. For a long, long time, then, the poet could have made a living and lived in dignity!
Ah, just a dream. The package was returned two days later with no comment. At this, Walser later told a very sympathetic, wealthy listener, “full of anger he went to the management”, and when the boss made fun of the money demand “with official authority”, his collar almost burst. Full of anger, he shouted: “You camels don’t understand anything about literature!” and left the office, doors slamming and no further greetings.
Walser beside himself and slamming doors? Humiliated as so often, but vociferously protesting that poetic originality has its price, which cannot be overestimated? Is that true or was it also a dream? But how good such an outburst may have done the author, and how good it is for us, the readers, that a powerful person is fiddled with the truth! “The Helper” was then printed by Cassirer and is still published today in a magnificent house.
It is said that all writer’s life is paper. In this series, we present evidence to the contrary.