Dear Cyndy,

Thank you for your letter. I very much wish for you that 2014 will
prove less trying than was 2013; and I wish for you even more that
if 2014 also disappoints your hopes, you will nonetheless discover
within yourself the resources to survive it with equanimity and
happiness.

You were on my mind much of last week, aware as I was that you were
negotiating the complexities of the relationships which unavoidably
become apparent when one is visited by members of ones family. The
centrifugal forces that tear children from their parents are
inescapable and often very painful.  These days I have much sympathy
for Klemens and Laura whose sons and daughters are now outgrowing their
childhood and their dependency. It was now about two weeks ago when
Leah stormed into my room, ecstatic that she had been offered "early
admission" by Yale, hugged me and thanked me for having helped to
make it possible, - all the more remarkable in that it was the first
time any of my grandchildren has ever thanked me for anything.

Nothing new from the Appeals Court since December 9, when they
gave the parties seven days to specify dates in the first two
weeks of February to declare themselves unavailable for a prospective
hearing. I hypothesize the delay reflects the circumstance that no
one is volunteering to be the executioner and that they're having
NIMBY problems about agreeing on the location for the gallows.

I can't remember to what point I brought you up-to-date with the
evolution of my novel. Charlotte, having gradually accommodated
herself to the rigors of her freshwoman year at Aletheia, had
a surprise visit from an unknown admirer, one Moritz Schwiegel
to whose entreaties that she abandon her studies, Charlotte
responded by asking that instead of himself, he send Joachim to
visit her. Joachim does pay a visit to Charlotte at work, but
rather than accept favors, he attempts physically to drag Charlotte
away from the university, a rescue operation in which he is
interrupted by Georg, the course supervisor, who ejects him
from the Laboratory. Next in line is Judge Adams who is now the
beneficiary of Charlotte's accumulated but frustrated passions for
Joachim, and who as a reward for her services takes Charlotte
to his country mansion in his elegant automobile. - Now I remember,
I did relate all this to you and invited you to select both the
exact location of the judge's estate and the color of his car,
which it turns out had to be black. As she enters the judge's
house Charlotte is overcome by memories of Joachim and when she is
unable to reach him by telephone, she panics. Understandably
chagrined by Charlotte's divided loyalty, Adams ejects her from
his house. She wanders down a lonely wintry country road, and is
rescued by a sisterly person in a small sports car who invites
Charlotte to ride into town with her. This good samaritan turns
out to be none other than Dorothea (die Andere) who is all too
familiar with the Linnaean Street address where she deposits
Charlotte. Exhausted from her adventures, Charlotte falls asleep
and dreams. She wanders down a lonely wintry country road, and
she thinks it must be Judge Adams when a black car pulls up and
stops next to her. But she is mistaken, it is not Adams' limousine
but a black hearse whose driver Georg, rescues her from her midnight
treck, but then denies her the front seat next to him, sending her
to the cargo area, empty but for a large, elegant ornate coffin.
Charlotte responds with the Leitmotif of all my novels: "Kann man
sich denn hier nirgends hinsetzen?" (Isn't there any place here where
one can sit down?) But the noise of gravel on the rough road, - or
his indifference - prevents Georg from hearing her and she repeats
her question plena voce, "Kann man sich denn hier nirgends hinsetzen?"
she shouts over the automotive din, and now receives from Georg a
response. He admonishes her to lie down in the coffin and adds the
insulting reproach that if she hadn't learned much at Aletheia she
should at least have learned how to lie down. There is a heated
exchange, which distracts Georg from driving and while his head
is turned for scornful gazes at Charlotte, he crashes the hearse
into  a monumental oak by the roadside. All the windows of the
hearse are broken, blood pours from Georg's scalp, the body of
Judge Adams is tossed out of the casket against the low ceiling
of the black van, but Charlotte herself is unhurt. Remarkably,
although blood is streaming down his neck, Georg continues to
drive and continues to remonstrate with Charlotte, blaming her
for the accident, telling her that she must pay damages and that
Judge Adams will teach her a lesson about the law of torts. To
this Charlotte replies that she is not afraid of Adams, that he
can no longer harm her, that he is no longer a threat because he
is dead. She knows, because it was she who killed him. It must
be the terror precipitated by this confession that causes the stage
of the nightmare to turn. The casket is now on display in the music
room of the Linnaean Street house, draped with a light veil which
Charlotte knows she must not lift, but which she need not lift
because she knows what the coffin contains, - the body of Jonathan
Mengs who has committed suicide because she, Charlotte, has seduced
Joachim and caused him to abandon and betray Jonathan, his virtual
father. Joachim does not yet know that Jonathan is dead, much less
that he has killed himself. Charlotte understands that she must
conceal Jonathan's death from Joachim at all costs, and knows no
resort but to cover Jonathan's corpse with her own body. She drags
a chair over to the coffin in order to fulfill her duty, but is
paralyzed by the perplexity of deciding whether it should be
face up or face down. Meanwhile she hears steps, Joachim is
approaching. She is pressed for time. Face up implies that she
crushed Jonathan to death and makes herself not only figuratively
responsible for his death but literally as well. Face down means
that she will be accused of necrophilia, and that for one whom
she has secretly detested all her life. At this juncture Charlotte
awakens and hears Joachim saying, "I'm so relieved that you've
come home." The description of the ensuing reunion of the two,
tests my loyalty to my mother's Victorian reticence. I'm undecided,
and may erase much of what I have written. What preoccupies me at
present is the description of the existential abyss between
Charlotte's studies at Aletheia, to which she has become inured,
to which she has adapted herself, and in which she has invested
her personality, - all this on the one hand, and on the other,
the domesticity which the prospect of marriage to Joachim would
presuppose. I'm presently at a loss whether I should be satisfied
with a mere description of the emotional conflict in which Charlotte
is embroiled, or whether that conflict should be dramatized,
and if so with which characters, e.g. Moritz Schwiegel, Dorothea
Klempner, Richter Adams, Georg ... or others to be invented.
Stay tuned.

Do you think I need to see a psychiatrist? And if so, should it
be an emergency consultation?

Happy New Year, to yourself and Ned.

Jochen