Bildungsromans; Germany -- Social conditions -- 1918-1933 -- Fiction; Young men -- Germany -- Fiction
In those days I walked about as if I were blind, storms roared within
me, every step meant danger. I was conscious of nothing but the
precipitous darkness in front of me, down to which all the roads I
had trodden hitherto seemed to lead. And in my inward self I saw the
picture of the guide, who resembled Demian, and in whose eyes stood my
fate.
I wrote on a sheet of paper: “A guide has left me. I stand in complete
darkness. I cannot take a step alone. Help me!”
I wished to send that to Demian. Yet I omitted to do this, for each
time I wished to do it, it seemed foolish and meaningless. But I
knew that little prayer by heart, and often said it to myself. It
accompanied me hourly. I began to realize what prayer is.
* * * * *
My school career was over. My father had arranged that during the
holidays I was to travel and then I was to go to the University. In
which faculty, I knew not. I was to be allowed to take philosophy for
one semester. I should have been equally content with anything else.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MOTHER EVE
In the holidays I went once to the house in which, years before, Max
Demian and his mother had lived. An old lady was walking in the garden.
I entered into conversation and learned that the house belonged to
her. I enquired after the Demians. She remembered them very well. But
she did not know where they were living at that moment. As she felt
my interest, she took me into the house, searched through a leather
album and showed me a photograph of Demian’s mother. I scarcely had any
recollections of what she was like. But when I saw the little picture
my heart stood still. It was my dream picture! There it was, the tall,
almost masculine woman’s figure, resembling her son, with traits
of motherliness, traits which denoted severity, and deep passion,
beautiful and alluring, beautiful and unapproachable, demon and mother,
destiny and mistress. That was she!
I was filled with a wild wonder, when I learned that my dream picture
lived on earth! There was a woman, then, who looked like that, who
bore my fate in her features! Where was she? Where? And she was
Demian’s mother!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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