In 1926: living at the edge of time - Monoskop

28 ARRAYS
Eduardo Street was crossing Gualeguaychu when it was hit by an automobile
bearing a license plate from Moron. The collision was so severe
that the omnibus was split in two and the car sustained heavy damage.
The public rescue service was called, and it was verified that the driver
of the car and seven bus passengers had been injured. Witnesses claimed
that the accident was the fault of Manuel Sanchez, the man who had
been driving the automobile. The police detained him, putting him in the
custody of the appropriate judge." It remains unclear on what grounds
the witnesses can so clearly attribute the responsibility for this accident
to the driver of the car. His immediate arrest by the police seems to
suggest that driving a car is considered a potentially criminal act. For a
Berlin taxi driver who kills two and injures three while passing a group
of hikers on their way back to the city on the evening of Ascension,
police arrest turns out to be a lifesaving intervention: "The guilty driver
was pulled from the car by the agitated crowd and would certainly have
been lynched on the spot if the police hadn't immediately taken him into
custody. He was brought to the hospital, and there arrested by the
police" (Berliner Volks-Zeitung, May 14). Unlike plane crashes, which
journalists represent as episodes of heroism and tragedy [see Airplanes),
the recurrent scenario in their coverage of car accidents involves aggressors
and victims. For, at least in Europe, automobiles evoke strong
feelings of social resentment. If Freder, the hero of Fritz Lang's film
Metropolis, uses "a large white chauffeur-driven car" (Lang, 34) to ride
to the office of his father, John Fredersen, the "Master of Metropolis,"
workers who later celebrate the proletarian revolt standing "on the roofs
of the cars" (120) seem to be engaging in an act of compensation. In the
eyes of Theodor Lessing, a Jewish philosopher scorned by his colleagues
and persecuted by hordes of anti-Semitic students [see Murder], automobiles
are metonymic for the dangers lurking in the modern world: "I hate
the cries of the street merchants and newspaper vendors. I hate the
ringing of the church bells, I hate the senseless noise of the factory sirens,
but what I hate most is the stinking autos. Modern man has acted with
total disregard and barefaced self-righteousness. We are defenseless
against their all-powerful owners ... In some cities-Cologne, for example,
with its many old, narrow streets-the traffic is a constant public
menace" (Lessing, 400f£.). Even those who can afford automobiles often
refer to them as a negative metaphor that establishes a distance between
their own respectable wealth and what they consider the demimonde.