In 1926: living at the edge of time - Monoskop

MOUNTAINEERING 135
(106). This ironic opening is followed by a long list of "scenes and
memories of violence and homicide," embellished with countless gruesome
details: poachers murdering gendarmes, guides killing cottagers,
lovers shooting their rivals, and numerous perfectly preserved bodies
discovered years after their death in deserts of snow and ice. Kisch
examines various rational explanations for this frequent use of mountain
landscapes as a stage for death and violence-only to reject them all. He
concludes by simply affirming his awareness of the way in which mountains
can be transformed into an uncannily idyllic world: "I can go out
again to see the forests, mountains, and cabins where peace and civility
are at home. The sun sets, and everything is lit by a glow of happiness.
But I delude myself no longer" (109).
Kisch is equally familiar with the complementary association by which
mountainous scenery becomes a place for dramatic sexual adventures.
In his historical drama about Colonel Redl, the head of the Austrian
intelligence service who sells government secrets to blackmailers when
they threaten to reveal his homosexuality [see Gramophones], Kisch has
Redl invite his lover on a mountain tour with the aim of distancing him
from heterosexual temptation: "I want to tear you away from the fangs
of this woman. She's a witch, I'm telling you. Come along with mewe'll
have a splendid trip to the mountains ... We'll go by car. In a
sports car-I'll buy you a sports car" (40f£.). With strong Freudian
inspiration, Arthur Schnitzler, in his Traumnovelle (Dream Story), portrays
the confusions of a married couple as they strive to recover the
erotic tension and harmony of the early days of their relationship. The
memory of their original sexual attraction leads back to a vacation they
once spent in the southeastern Alps: "It was a beautiful summer evening
on Lake Worther, just before our engagement, and a very handsome
young man stood before my window, which overlooked a large and
spacious meadow. As we talked, I thought to myself-just listen to this:
'What a charming young man that is! He'd only have to say the wordthe
right one, of course-and I'd go out with him into the meadow or
the woods ... and tonight I'd grant him anything he might desire'"
(Schnitzler, 13-14). If Schnitzler projects erotic desire and mountainous
landscapes onto the past, G. W. Pabst, an Austrian film director whom
Freud himself deeply admires, projects them onto the future. His film
Geheimnisse einer Seele (Secrets of a Soul) tells the story of a chemist
named Dr. Martin Fellmann. Pursued by traumatic childhood memories