I, Erzählende Schriften 31, Fräulein Else, Seite 71

31.
Fraeulein Else

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Bender S
IThe Conning Hower
Book Review
(Being a review of Arthur Schnitelep’s-Traeulein
Else.“ someihat in the manner of that inter¬
esting novel.)
VHIAT AN interesting book! Inter¬
Vesting, Mr. A.? How is it inter¬
esting? Prove it. Somebody eise
writes a book review and says the book
is interesting. What do you say? What
de I say? Isay,“I doubt it.“ If it were
really interesting he wouldn't have to say
so. Like women. They say, “Oh, I think
Mr. Squinch is charming.“ How? What
single charm has he? Then they think I’m
jealous.“think Mr. Flinch is very inter¬
esting.“ I say,“But he's so dull.“Tes,
but think how interesting it is to find out
what makes him dull.“ Interesting my
right eye! Whien you think like that it’s
endless. You don't get anything done.
Just studying people. Not even that.
Dreaming. Schnitzler gets the inside of
Else’s mind. Her emotions. Scatter¬
brained. Aren't we all?
Like Briggs. Schnitzler. Wonder What
a Young Girl Thinks Anout.“ Dramatizes
herself. Pathetic figure. I am beautiful.
Maybe not so beautiful. But striking. Dif¬
ferent. What a pretty dress you have on
this morning, Fraeulein Alison.““Oh, that
old thing.“ But they'd rather have you
think it’s pretty or say it’s pretty than
actually have it pretty. Lats of people like
that. In art. Writing. More people are
concerned with people saying they wrote
a good piece than in writing a good piece.
T’m a poor critic of my own things.“ The
hell you are. When you write a'rotten
piece and somebody says,“Oh, Mr. Blunk,
what a wonderful poem!“ you say,“I never
know whether my little efforts are any
good or not.“ Bunk, I write a rotten
piece."Oh, bow remarkable!“ I know it’s
rotten. Then I just have contempt for the
person who tells me it’s good. I'm inde¬
pendent. A man came in the office yes¬
terday and said he read character from
vour eyes and the lines in your face. Said
I was independent. Uninfluenced by opin¬
ion of others. That’s true. Said I was
more impulsive than deliberate, but my
impulses were generally right. Hell, I
don't know. Too busy to tl.ink much
about what goes on inside me.“ Too busy
listening to other people telling me what
goes on inside them. Or what they think
goes on inside other people. I'm as bad
as anybody else, really. I get thinking
about such things and first thing you know
it’s an hour later and I haven't written
anything. Either vou think so much it
70
William
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