Dear Marion,

Your letter is so rich in ideas that
I want to comment on it line by line.

> I've gotten so hooked on Jakob and his situation,
> I might try reading the novel from the beginning,
> but I'm a slow reader even in English, so I won't get far.

I've sometimes wondered whether instead of new writing,
I should spend my time on an English version of what I
wrote about 18 years ago. A rough draft of Die Andere
in English would take me about a year and would displace
virtually all other projects.

> I expected that Jakob and Albert would get
> into a philosophical / psychological discussion
> about society's shared guilt for the "transgressions" of individuals. 
> I would have liked to be there for that. 

It is obviously an issue, and perhaps one should meditate
on the "shared guilt" of communities and nations. However,
such communal guilt would be so different from individual
guilt that perhaps, to avoid confusion, communal guilt should
not be denominated as guilt but have some other name.
Albert's identification with his community was so strong,
he could not come to terms with the Nazi atrocities.
They drove him into the wilderness. (Could that have been
the case also with hermits in the wake of Roman imperialism?)
Obviously communal guilt is an historical concept.
I haven't thought very much about it, but I should.


> I liked it that Jakob drifted off to sleep
> and that Albert took this as an opportunity
> to speak freely of his freakish thoughts.

This, of course, is an ironic commentary on the
impossibility of sharing certain experiences,
of sharing certain thoughts.

> But when Albert veered off into the notion
> that the world of animals is gentle and loyal and
> competitive and cruel all rolled up together and
> that that is the way the world is,
> so that since humans are animals too
> it is foolish idealism to look for
> consistently kind or ethical behavior from humans,
> I was disappointed. 

Your disappointment addressed something other than what
Albert said. Albert's central thesis is that mankind is
cruel, and that in order to understand the cruelty of the Nazis
one must understand the cruelty of mankind in general,
a thesis which Albert documented by allusions to killing
and eating of animals. This is Albert's conclusion, not mine;
and it raises some very profound issues which may or may not be
worth thinking about. That culture (Paideia) should strive to
mitigate this cruelty if relevant but insufficient to controvert
the thesis.

> To a Biologist like me,
> there is no question but that humans are animals. 
> Yet humans think, and have developed extensive social repositories
> of their thoughts (via myth retelling, troubadors, writing,
> holy books, libraries, science, etc.). 
> We developed religious traditions, ethics, laws and so forth,
> even though we're animals. 
> And with these cultural implements
> we do regulate human behavior,
> reenforcing some behaviors with rewards
> while punishing others and thereby making them rarer. 
> This has influenced human behavior over time. 
> Cannibalism is uncommon now

I'll let Goethe answer your argument
admittedly in the guise of Mephisopheles

MEPHISTOPHELES:
Da du, o Herr, dich einmal wieder nahst
Und fragst, wie alles sich bei uns befinde,
Und du mich sonst gewoehnlich gerne sahst,
So siehst du mich auch unter dem Gesinde.
Verzeih, ich kann nicht hohe Worte machen,
Und wenn mich auch der ganze Kreis verhoehnt;
Mein Pathos braechte dich gewiss zum Lachen,
Haettst du dir nicht das Lachen abgewoehnt.
Von Sonn' und Welten weiss ich nichts zu sagen,
Ich sehe nur, wie sich die Menschen plagen.
Der kleine Gott der Welt bleibt stets von gleichem Schlag,
Und ist so wunderlich als wie am ersten Tag.
Ein wenig besser wuerd er leben,
Haettst du ihm nicht den Schein des Himmelslichts gegeben;
Er nennt's Vernunft und braucht's allein,
Nur tierischer als jedes Tier zu sein.

> Whether torture, murder, theft, willfull neglect
> are less common now than thousands of years ago, I'm not sure. 
> But I don't see why the fact that humans are subject
> to many impulses and desires that animals have too,
> means that it is pointless for humans to work to organize societies,
> improve life, make it safer and more relaxed,
> long-lasting, fruitful, peaceful. 

That's not what Albert thought or said. 
Neither Albert nor Doehring asserted that we shouldn't
try harder. The inference from Alberts sermon is
that trying hard is not enough.
The music which he played was the product of a
long and deep cultural tradition.
His isolation is the reflection of his despair.

> I'm inclined to think that the positive qualities of my life
> I owe in large part to organized society,
> to cultural traditions that influence us though we are animals. 

I agree. It seems to me obvious, self-evident.

> In fact I personally believe that some animal species
> might have parallel belief systems (religious or mythological),
> cultural traditions. 
> There is a bit of evidence for these phenomena
> (e.g. apes observed staring at a beautiful sunset;
> elephants standing vigil over a dead elephant for hours and days;
> transmission of local cultural traditions within small bands of apes). 
> Especially since we have not learned to interpret
> much of the communication of animal species,
> I don't think we are in a position to conclude
> that they don't have beliefs, hopes, ethical systems, etc. 

These observations seem entirely consistent with Albert's
feeling that he has integrated himself into the world of nature.

> So when Albert declares that life is chaotic, amoral,
> just as animals are, including us,
> and that therefore there can't be guilt, I don't buy it. 

Albert didn't intend to give that impression.
His point was that to understand the cruelties of the Nazis
we must understand - and accept as given -
the cruelty of human and animal nature.
That's what Albert had concluded. It's not my idea.
I'm nothing more than an itinerant reporter.

> Because though we are animals,
> we have devised and transmitted ethical systems,
> and many individuals and societies show allegiance to them. 

> Admittedly there continue to be murders, episodes of torture,
> swindling, selfish hogging of resources
> while others are left to starve, wars......
> yet I wouldn't characterize these as necessarily "natural"
> to the behavior of most humans. 
> Army and Marine training programs must expend
> a lot of energy to overcome most recruits' reluctance to kill. 
> Even on the battlefield, after the training,
> some soldiers can't bring themselves to shoot to kill. 
> And while experiments have shown
> that "ordinary" college students can be induced
> to deliver "painful electric shocks"
> to what they think are victims
> (actually actors flinching and crying),
> many people (most I hope)
> have a strong aversion to torture. 

As I understand your account, it seems to me
to corroborate Albert's experience.

> So I don't find Albert's speech,
> in its present form,  convincing. 
> I wish the discussion had been
> about our shared humanity and inhumanity.

I expect Katenus, Mengs, Joachim and Elly
to take up this topic when they discuss
Das siebte Kapitel. I would welcome any elaboration
os about "shared humanity and inhumanity" that you
might have time and inclination to make.

> Having been raised as a Jew,
> the whole idea of someone being sacrificed
> to obtain forgiveness for human sinfulness seems weird. 
> Only in the last few days did it dawn on me
> that there is a relationship
> between sacrificing a sheep to propitiate the gods
> and the crucifixion. 
> Yet when sheep were sacrificed,
> or even when Isaac might have been sacrificed,
> or when human sacrifice was practiced,
> it seems that the idea must have been
> that if you want to influence, or please,
> or obtain forgiveness from another,
> you give him a valuable gift....
> something you care about that you're willing to give up to him. 
> When this other is a god,
> you burn the offering so its substance
> reaches up to where the god lives. 
> But if Judas or the Jewish community
> or the Roman authorities found Jesus to be a troublemaker,
> undesirable, how could they imagine
> that God would be impressed by their sacrificing this miscreant
> that they wanted to be rid of,
> and then, too, how could they think God would be gratified
> to see his own son sacrificed?  I don't get it.

I agree, it's a very mixed up story. Theology
would have been much simpler if God had been allowed
to remain childless. I admit, when I represented Albert
as one who takes upon him the sins of the world and
sacrifices himself for their atonement, I defined a
problem which is perhaps insoluble.  I'm too tired
now to tackle it. Didn't get enough sleep last night.

Margrit still hasn't checked her e-mail. She seems
quite satisfied. Considering her customary spontaneity,
or whatever you want to call it, she's remarkably content
to be a passive patient.

More later, tonight, tomorrow, or another day.

Jochen