-- [ From: Richard Brem * EMC.Ver #2.5.02 ] --
Here's a short, but touching text by Ernst Juenger published in 1965. It can
be found in vol. 13 of Juenger's "Gesamtausgabe" (in the section "Traeume").
The text was translated by Martin Chalmers for the Curfew Press anthology on
Juenger to be published next year.
Btw, the churchyard Juenger refers to in his text is the same where he will
be buried on Saturday, next to his first wife Gretha and his son Ernstel
(both also referred to in the text).
Regards,
RB
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Ernst Juenger
"Dreams"
Yesterday, on the anniversary of Gretha's death, at the churchyard; in the
evening placed a candle in front of her picture.
During the night in a large hotel, a luxury caravanserai. Memories of the
'Majestic' with its thousand rooms combined with those of my first year at
school. When I was late, I would wander with mounting fear from one floor to
the next and along corridors; I could not find my class. When I opened a
door unfamiliar schoolboys were sitting on the benches laughing; a teacher I
did not know looked at me snarling.
Today, as in a dream, I found the right lift, the right floor, the right
corridor. My bedroom was lit; two maid-servants were waiting for me in the
ante-room. There was a smell of cigarettes; I asked if a guest had come.
They answered in the negative and left. At that moment, one of them stroked
my arm; it could have been big Hanna.
I went into the bedroom and saw Gretha lying in my bed. Her face was very
beautiful; she was wearing a turban, which was secured with a comet-shaped
clasp. I said, as if we were continuing a conversation: 'I saw the bishop
downstairs. That's the way to grow old.'
She smiled, as if she knew better: 'Must one?'
Then I heard the neighbour's cock crow outside and awoke with a good feeling
.
I had wanted to reply: 'With you, of course, there can be no question of age
.'
There was hoar-frost outside; the birds were darting about in front of the
window sill. I went once more to the churchyard, to see whether the frost
had spared the flowers. On my way I remembered her favourite lines from 'La
Belle Hélène':
That's why a true gentleman gives notice of his coming.
Final certainty, optimism, but then only as metaphor: The more distant the
star, the more surely will it lead to the goal. 'The gods are at home on the
planets, God on the fixed stars.'
*
The bedroom door was flung open, and two vigorous fellows entered. They
offered me slices of bread spread with red caviar.
Then I went into the bathroom. There stood one of the tubs, in which linen
is soaked. To my horror, I saw Gretha lying in it; the water came up over
her mouth. I pulled her out, treated her as if she had drowned, took her
into my arms. To my infinte joy she began to breathe; I said:
'I want to warm you, come to bed.'
She replied:
'You come to me. Our son is here too.'
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