RUDIMENTS, pt. 774
(christina rosner) - pt. one, Elmira College
'In the beginning was the
myth.' That's the first
sentence of a book, by
Herman Hesse, entitled,
'Peter Camenizid.' Like
so many others before, as
a young person I was
enamored of Hesse -
not even young, for I
was in my twenties. I
had a German literature
teacher, at Elmira College,
who became a fast friend.
Christina Rosner (perhaps
she's still alive, probably
80 plus; I don't know).
She was rather unique,
and the entire thing was
quite strange. Her German
accent was dense; I was
always 'Mr. Introne,' to her;
she took fast to our family
life, wife, child, home, dog,
and we often did things together,
with me as driver. She did not
otherwise much journey on
her own. Pastoral things -
Aug. 1st berry pickings. I
had a crappy FIAT wagon
at this time, and to keep it
cool, engine-wise, and
prevent overheating (it ran
very hot) I had read that
running with the heater on,
and the blower, would take
some of the heat off the engine.
Into the passenger compartment,
needless to say; but I had all
windows open. It was a bad
idea; tolerable only by me.
One day she just blurted out,
in some strange, accented,
frenzy, 'Mr. Introne, do we
have the heat on?' It was
pretty funny, as she was
half outraged and it came out
as 'Mr. Eentrone, do vee haff
de Heat ohn?' I said 'Yah!
Ve do.' It was all lost on her,
the entire premise, engine,
running hot, overheating, etc.
I just gave it up and hoped
for the best. Man, I hated
that car. My kid was about
6, and we also had another
kid about 6 with us, and his
mother. Her name was Anne
something; I forget now. But,
weird as it was, she had fled
an abusive husband (whom I
never met; he was rather just
a mythological story), and
was spending time with us,
a sort of exile, while she
decided how best to get out,
safely, of this abusive, failed,
marriage. (No, it had nothing
to do with me; there was none
of that.)...So, we all went
berry picking that hot, long
day, somewhere out in the
country there, Pine City, I
think it was called, a small
nothing of a place. It had
a pick-your-own berries
deal, and we walked these
endless hot rows of berries.
It was about 1,000 degrees
out. I wasn't much for
berry-picking, so I mostly
just stayed with the dog,
walking around, or sitting
under shade trees. They
came back with their bags
of berries - it wasn't
blueberries or anything
normal like that. These had
an odd name of their own,
which right now I can't
recall. Maybe it'll come
back to me. Christina said
about herself, that she'd been,
as a young girl, obliged to
join youth organizations
that were gung-ho Hitler
cheering sections, even as
an eight year old being sent
to walk around the village
synagogue, numerous children,
clanging and banging pots and
pans - to make noise and disrupt
services. She also often mentioned
the idea of 'concentration' camps,
to her young-girl mind, being
places where unruly people
were sent to re-educate and
better learn how to concentrate
their minds. Perhaps fanciful
stories, these, but they are what
she told. As a German Literature
professor, she was way into
Hesse, Goethe, Heinrich Boll,
playwrights like Freidrich
Durenmatt, and Max Frisch.
Through her I learned of
Gunter Grass, and, my own
particular 1970's favorite -
Peter Handke. There was
much more, and I always
appreciated all that she put
forth, and gave to me, as
education and awareness and
knowledge. Even if she didn't
like hot cars.
-
All that being said, I wish to add:
I found her character lacking
attributes that any average
American, I would think,
would have as natural traits.
There was no humor in her;
the outlook was mechanical and
serious, by the facts and by the
book. There seemed no sense of
daring or experimentation. Closed
horizons everywhere. It was
disappointing, though I guess it
made for a good 'teacher' - all
those lessons and testings, and
cross-checkings and assignments.
I did try breaking that facade
a few times, but to no avail - it
was very foreign to me (no pun
intended). When she was about
18 or 20, when the war ended,
she was recruited as a translator,
and that later got her to NYC,
eventually working (translator)
at the UN. She said that when
she first arrived to the large city,
looking up and around her, all
she saw were hundreds of bird
cages hanging out the sides of
buildings, and she thought, 'What
a wonderful country, how people
care, and take care of birds!' She
later realized that they were all
air-conditioners. (Actually, that's
was pretty funny. Perhaps I
should grant her some humor).
-
One semester we had an exchange
student, from Germany. She was
a real nice girl, smart and with it.
She stayed with Christina, who
by that time had a nice little
house, with her cat 'Mootah'
or something (I think it meant
'mother' in German). The girl
was a little 'privileged,' was a
bit refined, in that Euro-German
way. I forget what city or town
she came from in Germany, but
I asked her once, about Bonn,
and what the people spoke there.
She laughed, and said, 'Bonn?
They don't speak German, they
speak 'Bonn.'' It was her way
of sniping at the southern hicks
there, like we do here about, say,
Bayou people, or Alabama or
Appalachia. Then she started
on about how 'Bonn' wasn't even
really a place, let alone a capitol.
How the Western powers who
had won the war and split the
country with the Soviets, had
abandoned Berlin and left this
stupid, artificial, little dumb
hick-town as the new Capitol.
It seemed to be a real issue, and
I assumed all Germans then had
an attitude of sorts like hers. I
didn't argue, not knowing any
of that myself. Anyway, we all
got along OK, even the German
exchange student who was soon
enough gone anyway (to another
college, with another sponsor
family, or person. She was on
some sort of exchange-visiting
program for different colleges.
Elmira College was just one
stop along the way).
-
One time, in this class, I had to
give (Christna selected me, thinking
I was some sort of special deal),
and research and write up a 30
minute or so lecture/report, of my
own, to present to class as an
oral assignment - preferably
with a prop or two also - on
Johannes Gutenberg, moveable
type, the history and the beginnings
of printing in old Europe, and by
that the dissemination of the
colloquial and the resultant
breakdowns of societal levels
and factors - including the
vernacular Bible, the resultant
Reformation, and, if I could
squeeze it in, something on
Martin Luther too. Indeed, a
tall assignment. For props I was
able to get a wood-block for
showing how early printing
worked. The problem was,
after I worked my ass off, really
detailed, researching, writing,
and copying the text of my
report (fortunately), the day
of the presentation, with
everyone assembled, I had
a near-disastrous case of
embarrassing laryngitis. I
went ahead anyway, in a
pained voice. I sounded like
a 100-year old man barking
out frog noises. But it was
a big success, and I was told
it was funny some too, hearing
me - but people were glad I'd
distributed a text first, so they
could read along. For my efforts,
she presented me, some time
later, with a two-volume history
of Germany, and a special
notation certificate from the
German Consulate in NYC.
It was pretty cool. I have it
here somewhere.
-
I always wanted to say to
her, or later thought I should
have anyway, 'Do you want this
report in English, or do you
speak 'Bonn?'' I guess she
might have laughed; but, her
humor...you never know.
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