Gesammelte Schriften IV, 355–6.

CHAPTER 8

Too Close

Images

Angel Couple (Engelpaar), 1931.

In the dream, on the left bank of the Seine in front of Notre Dame. I was standing there, but there was nothing that resembled Notre Dame. A brick building towered above a high fence made of wood, revealing the extremities of its highest echelons. I stood, though, overwhelmed, right in front of Notre Dame. And what overwhelmed me was longing. Longing for the very same Paris in which I found myself in the dream. But where does this longing come from? And where does this disfigured, unrecognisable object come from? The reason being I came too close to it in the dream. The tremendous longing which had struck me here, in the heart of that which was longed for, did not press itself from the distance into an image. It was a blissful one, which has already crossed the threshold of the image and property, and knows only the power of the name, from which the lover lives, transforms, ages, rejuvenates and, imageless, is the refuge of all images.

Translated by Sam Dolbear and Esther Leslie.

Written in 1929; published in the cycle ‘Short Shadows I’ in Gesammelte Schriften IV, 370; also translated in Selected Writings II, 269.

CHAPTER 9

Ibizan Dream

Images

West-Eastern Village (Westöstliches Dorf), 1925.

A dream from the first or second night of my stay in Ibiza: I went home late in the evening – it was actually not my house, but rather a splendid rental house, in which I, dreaming, had accommodated Seligmann. There I encountered a woman, hurrying towards me from a side street in close proximity to the entrance of the house, who whispered, in passing, as fast as she moved: ‘I am going for tea, I am going for tea!’ I didn’t pursue the temptation to follow her, but rather stepped into the house of S, where an unwelcome scene immediately transpired, in the course of which the son of the house grabbed me by the nose. With resolute words of protest, I slammed the house door shut behind me. I was hardly outdoors again when, on the very same street, with the very same words, the very same wench sprang at me and this time I followed her. To my disappointment, she wouldn’t let anyone talk to her; rather she hurried away at a steady pace down a somewhat sloping alley, until she made the closest of contact, in front of an iron railing, with a whole bunch of whores, who were obviously standing at the entrance to their district. A policeman was positioned not far from there. In the midst of so much embarrassment, I awoke. Then, it crossed my mind that the girl’s arousing, strangely striped silk blouse had gleamed in the colours green and violet: the colours of Fromms Akt.1

Translated by Sam Dolbear and Esther Leslie.

Diary entry, Ibiza, written 1932; Gesammelte Schriften VI, 447.

CHAPTER 10

Self-Portraits of a Dreamer

Images

In Readiness (Bereitschaft), 1931.

The Grandson

A trip to Grandmother’s had been decided on. A cab was taken. It was evening. Through the panes of the carriage doors I saw light in some of the houses of the old West End. I said to myself: that is the light from that time; exactly the same. But it wasn’t long before I was reminded of the present by a whitewashed facade that broke into the front of old terraced houses, which were still unfinished. The cab crossed Potsdamer Strasse at the intersection with Steglitzer. As the carriage continued along the other side of the road, I asked myself suddenly: how was it before, when grandmother was still alive? Were there not little bells on the horse’s yoke? I need to listen out for whether or not they still exist. In the same moment I sharpened my ears and I actually heard little bells. At the very same time the cab appeared not to roll but to glide over the snow. Snow now lay on the road. The houses shifted their oddly formed roofs up close together so that only a small strip of sky was visible between them. There were clouds capped by roofs, which were shaped like rings; I thought to point to these clouds and was astonished to hear them name ‘moon’ before me. In grandmother’s apartment it turned out that we had brought everything we needed for refreshment. On a tray raised high, coffee and cake were carried along the corridor.