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In 1926: living at the edge of time - Monoskop

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136 ARRAYS<br />

and guilt-ridden over a marriage th<strong>at</strong> has remained childless for many<br />

years, he has become impotent and is obsessed with hallucin<strong>at</strong>ions about<br />

killing his wife. A Freudian cure <strong>of</strong>fers Dr. Fellmann redemption from<br />

his sufferings and renews his sexual vitality. The final scenes <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> film<br />

show <strong>the</strong> reconciled couple and <strong>the</strong>ir new baby happily enjoying a vac<strong>at</strong>ion-in<br />

an Alpine setting.<br />

But how can a constell<strong>at</strong>ion th<strong>at</strong> looks so much like a literary motifmountainous<br />

landscapes, de<strong>at</strong>h, and sexuality-be part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> publicly<br />

shared stock <strong>of</strong> knowl<strong>edge</strong>? And how is it possible th<strong>at</strong>, as a complex<br />

element <strong>of</strong> social knowl<strong>edge</strong>, this constell<strong>at</strong>ion even becomes a social<br />

reality? Numerous narr<strong>at</strong>ives <strong>of</strong> mountaineering develop and illustr<strong>at</strong>e<br />

<strong>the</strong> tacit assumptions th<strong>at</strong> frequently link icy mountains to erotic desire<br />

and violent de<strong>at</strong>h. <strong>In</strong> <strong>the</strong> third chapter <strong>of</strong> Rene Schickele's novel Maria<br />

Capponi, Claus, <strong>the</strong> narr<strong>at</strong>or-protagonist, and his wife, Doris, set out for<br />

a trek across a glacier. Their rel<strong>at</strong>ionship suffers from symptoms similar<br />

to those <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> couples in Schnitzler's Traumnovelle and in Pabst's Geheimnisse<br />

einer Seele. This is why Doris and Claus not only rely on <strong>the</strong><br />

psychic healing power <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Alpine environment, but find it important<br />

to undertake <strong>the</strong>ir tour without a guide. It is thus due to <strong>the</strong>ir own<br />

temerity th<strong>at</strong>, after some hours <strong>of</strong> hiking and climbing, <strong>the</strong>y fall into a<br />

crevasse. Or r<strong>at</strong>her, <strong>the</strong>y slowly glide into <strong>the</strong> abyss as <strong>the</strong> s<strong>of</strong>t snow sinks<br />

bene<strong>at</strong>h <strong>the</strong> weight <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir bodies. The slowness <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir fall into <strong>the</strong><br />

subterranean spaces <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mountain pl<strong>at</strong>eau seems to announce th<strong>at</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />

hours <strong>of</strong> agony which follow will bring to Doris and Claus an ultim<strong>at</strong>e<br />

experience <strong>of</strong> deep and genuine meaning. [see Au<strong>the</strong>nticity vs. Artificiality]<br />

At first, <strong>the</strong>y do not realize <strong>the</strong> danger <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir situ<strong>at</strong>ion. But when<br />

it finally occurs to <strong>the</strong>m th<strong>at</strong> no one will come to <strong>the</strong>ir rescue for quite<br />

a long <strong>time</strong>-because nobody knows where <strong>the</strong>y were going-a strange<br />

euphoria comes over Doris. This confront<strong>at</strong>ion with mortality intensifies<br />

her life spirit [see Boxing, Bullfighting, Mummies] and restores her ability<br />

to rouse Claus into an ecstasy <strong>of</strong> desire: "'No, we only wish to see<br />

how a person feels when crossing th<strong>at</strong> smooth rainbow bridge! My<br />

dearest, you're a poet, though you've served in <strong>the</strong> infantry. Do you<br />

know now wh<strong>at</strong> you're experiencing? Your wife freezing to de<strong>at</strong>h!' ...<br />

I took her in my arms. On <strong>the</strong> floor <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> crevasse it was too narrow<br />

for us to lie side by side, but th<strong>at</strong> didn't bo<strong>the</strong>r us. We sank into caresses-our<br />

blood, our ears roared with desire. 'Never have you loved<br />

me this way!' Doris exclaimed suddenly, and cried out again, her heart

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