Free Berlin Alexanderplatz: The Story of Franz Biberkopf by Alfred Döblin

and state to the entire public that the toilet conditions in Frankfort are indescribable. All those who were there can tell a tale or two about that. Such unhygienic conditions are unworthy of a big city, and the public should brand them, wherever it can. Such conditions will never attract visitors to Frankfort, and they do a lot of harm to the tradespeople. And then those narrow booths, like sardines in a can!”
    After the discussion, in which the board of directors was also attacked for its inactivity up till now, the following resolution was unanimously adopted:
    “The fair-merchants feel that the removal of the fair to the Magazinplatz is a slap in the face. The business results for the merchants fell considerably short of those of former fairs. The Magazinplatz as a fair-site is absolutely unsuitable, because it cannot possibly hold all the fair-visitors, and because in regard to sanitation it is a perfect disgrace to the city of Frankfort-on-the-Oder, without taking into consideration that, if a tire had broken out, the merchants themselves, as well as their wares, would have perished. The members assembled here demand that the municipal authorities remove the fair back to the Marktplatz, because only in this event can a guarantee be given for the holding of the fair. At the same time the members assembled strongly urge a reduction of the booth rent, since they are not in a position to fulfill even approximately their obligations under the given conditions, and may well become a charge upon the city’s charitable institutions.”
    But Biberkopf was irresistibly attracted by the speaker. “Meck, that’s some orator, a man just made for the world.” “Go ahead and step on his toes, maybe something will fall your way, too.” “You can’t tell about that, Gottlieb. But you know, them Jews did give me a lift. I went from one courtyard to another singing the Watch on the Rhine, that’s how dizzy I was in my head. Then the two Jews fished me out and told me stories. Words are a good thing, too, Gottlieb, and what a man says.” “That story about Stefan the Polak. Franz, you’re still a little cracked.” The latter shrugged his shoulders: “Gottlieb, cracked or not cracked, put yourself in my place and then talk. That man up there, the little hunchbacked fellow, he’s all right. I tell you, he’s first-class, first-class.” “Well, have your way. You better begin to worry about business, Franz.” “We’ll get around to that; one thing at a time. Why, I don’t talk against business, do I?”
    And he wended his way towards the hunchback. Respectfully he asked him for a piece of information. “What do you want?” “I should like to ask for some information.” “The debate is over now. Finished, this is the end. We get sick of it, too, sometimes, up to here.” The hunchback was venomous. “But what do you really want?” “Me? -They’ve been talking a lot about the Frankfort fair here, and you did your job wonderfully, first-class, sir. I wanted to tell you that, as coming from me. I’m entirely of your opinion.” “Glad of that, comrade, if I may ask, what’s your name?” “Franz Biberkopf. I saw with pleasure how you did your job and how you gave it to the Frankforters.” “The municipal authorities.” “First-class. That was a smooth ironing out. They won’t say boo after that. They’ll have to take a back seat now.” The little fellow collected his papers, stepped from the stage into the smoke-filled hall. “Fine, comrade, that’s great.” And Franz beamed, bowing and scraping behind him. “But didn’t you want some information? Are you a member of the association?” “No, sorry.” “You can get it from me right away. Come along and sit down at the table.” Thus Franz sat at the chairman’s table below, among the flushed laces, drank, saluted, got a ticket in his hand. The fees he promised to pay the first of next month. Handshake.
    From a distance he started signaling to