Free Extinction by Thomas Bernhard Page B

Johannes took at least three times as long. Right from the beginning, in fact, he resembled Father more than Mother, at least when it came to quickness, restlessness, curiosity, and percipience. Naturally my essays were better than his, even at primary school, but this did not mean that I got better marks. On the contrary, my marks were always worse than his, even though my essays were undoubtedly better; this is not surprising, however, as our teachers thought the form of an essay more important than the content. I always chose interesting subjects—what I called exotic subjects—when essays were assigned. Johannes always chose the simplest subjects, which he developed and presented in a simple manner, a manner that was not just simple but tedious and pedestrian, while my essays were always composed in a complicated and interesting manner, as is attested by the exercise books lying around in cardboard boxes in our attics. My brother was less interested in widening his knowledge and improving his mind than in winning the teachers’ approval. This was never my aim, and I was never in the teachers’ good books, as they say. They disliked me because they always found me intractable, but theyloved my brother because he was so uncomplicated. And instantly obedient. I was often impatient and recalcitrant, and never at a loss for words. He did whatever he was told and never rebelled, whereas I rebelled almost every day and so incurred the hostility of the teachers. Like my family, they were driven to distraction, as I now realize, by all the questions I asked and were nearly always out of their depth. I distrusted them, and my distrust was reciprocated. Unlike my brother, I had no respect for authority. Very early on, Uncle Georg had told me the truth about teachers: that they were moral cowards who took out on the pupils all the frustrations they could not take out on their wives. When I was very young Uncle Georg impressed on me that among the educated classes teachers were the basest and most dangerous people, on a par with judges, who were the lowest form of human life. Teachers and judges, he said, are the meanest slaves of the state—remember that. He was right, as I have discovered not just hundreds but thousands of times. No teacher and no judge can be trusted as far as you can throw him. Without scruple or compunction they daily destroy many of the existences that are thrown upon their mercy, being motivated by base caprice and a desire to avenge themselves for their miserable, twisted lives—and they are actually paid for doing so. The supposed objectivity of teachers and judges is a piece of shabby mendacity, Uncle Georg said—and he was right. Talking to a teacher, we soon discover that he is a destructive individual with whom no one and nothing is safe, and the same is true when we talk to a judge. My brother always began by trusting people and was hurt when they let him down, as they usually did. I, on the other hand, trusted hardly anybody on first acquaintance and was seldom let down. Having been let down so often, he became embittered at an early age and soon took on the embittered features of his father, whom life had generally let down—or rather he took them
over
, as one takes over a property—and he soon came to resemble his father in every way. How often have I thought to myself, Your brother walks like your father, sits like your father, stands like your father, eats like your father, and strings his words together like your father, in long, ponderous sentences; in thirty years he has become identical with your father. He adopted all the habits of his father, who was my father too. Like him, he very soon became
an indolent person
, who feigned activity, though inreality he was inactivity personified. He pretended to be constantly on the go, working nonstop and never allowing himself a moment’s rest—and all for the sake of the family, who wished to see him as he pretended to be. The family took