Berlin Alexanderplatz: The Story of Franz Biberkopf Read Free

kept on looking at them. A fellow’s very lucky to live within these walls, he knows at least how the day starts and how it goes on. (Franz, you wouldn’t hide, I hope, four years you’ve been hidden, courage, look around, this hiding will have to stop some time.) All singing, whistling, and noise is prohibited. The prisoners must immediately rise in the morning at the signal to get up, they must put their bunks in order, wash, comb their hair, clean their clothes, and dress. Soap should be issued in adequate quantities. Boom, a bell, get up, boom five-thirty, boom Six-thirty, doors unlocked, boom boom, we go outside, distribution of breakfast, working hours, recreation hour, boom boom boom, noon, don’t make such a wry face, old boy, you’re not going to be fattened up here, singers should step forward, they are to appear at five-forty, I’ll report myself hoarse, at six the doors are locked, good evening, that’s that. A fellow’s lucky to live within these walls, they dragged me down in the dirt, I almost committed murder, but it was only manslaughter, bodily injury with fatal consequences, wasn’t as bad as all that, I had become a great reprobate, a hooligan-almost a real bum.
    A big, long-haired old Jew, a little black skull-cap on the back of his head, had been sitting opposite him for a long time. Now in Shushan there was a certain Jew, whose name was Mordecai and he brought up Esther, his uncle’s daughter, and the maid was fair and beautiful. The old man looked away from him and turned his head back to the redbeard: “Where did you pick this one up?” “He was running around from house to house. He stood in a courtyard and he sang.” “Sang?” “War songs.” “He must be freezing.” “Maybe.” The old man looked at him. Jews must not handle a corpse on the first feastday, nor shall Israelites do this on the second feastday; and this applies to both New Years’ days, as well. And who is the author of the following rabbinic teaching: If a man eats from the carcass of a clean bird, he is not unclean; if, however, he eats of the intestines or of the craw, he is unclean? With his long yellow hand the old man groped for the hand of the discharged prisoner lying on the topcoat. “Heh, don’t you want to take your coat off? It’s warm here. We’re old people, we freeze all the year round, maybe it will be too much for you.”
    He sat on the sofa, he squinted down at his hand, he had walked from courtyard to courtyard through the streets, gotta look and see where something can be found in this world. And he wanted to get up, walk out of the door, his eyes looked for the door in the dark room. And the old fellow pushed him back to the sofa: “Why don’t you stay, what do you want?” He wanted to get outside. The old man, however, held his wrist and squeezed and squeezed: “Just want to see who is stronger, you or 1. Now are you going to remain seated, or not? You are going to listen to what I am saying, young fellow. Pull yourself together, rascal.” And turning to the red-haired chap who grasped the man by the shoulders: “Get out of here, you. Did I call you? I’ll fix him up.”
    What did these people want with him? He wanted to get out, he tried to rise, but the old man pushed him down again. Then he shouted: “What are you doing with me?” “Go ahead and curse, you’ll be cursing more than that.” “You better lemme go. I’ve got to be off” “Into the street again, I suppose, or the courtyard, maybe?”
    Then the old man got up from his chair, went rustling up and down the room: “Let him scream as much as he wants to. Let him do as he pleases. But not in my house. Open the door for him.” “What’s the matter, haven’t you got noise here anyway?” “Don’t bring people here who make a noise. The daughter’s children are sick, they’re back there in bed, I got enough noise already.” “Eh, eh, what a shame, I didn’t know, you must excuse me.” The redbeard grasped