film, Werner said, âIt stirs something in me. It resonates with something true in us.â
âI suppose a rally is all right for the faithful,â said George. âBut wheeling out people like Robert Ley is a bit much, isnât it? Shouldnât he be disciplined for using his position to appropriate more motor cars and houses than anyone could possibly want?â
âProbably he is a bad apple,â said Werner. âFor some reason we donât understand, it must be difficult for Hitler to dismiss him.â
âAnd all the other fonctionnaires? They made the second half of the film pretty boring.â
âI donât want to listen to the airing of political sentiments,â said Werner. âBut when you listen to Hitler you know he is a good person.â
George did not say anything.
âHitler has made it completely clear he doesnât want war; nobody in Germany wants war. But we do want to be strong. If you read history, you see very soon that nations that are weak get attacked. Imagine a herd of deer, surrounded by wolves. Which deer gets attacked? Itâs the slowest one, the one with a limp. Any nation that is weak invites aggression. We want to make sure that doesnât happen. That is all.â
Nobody spoke.
âWe are not just a people who were tripped up at the beginning of the century and have been through terrible economic problems,â said Werner. âThereâs something in us by which minds can join, pull together.â
George wondered if this would be part of Wernerâs thesis, the joining of German minds. He thought about making a joke about how peopleâs arms must ache from constantly being held out at forty-five degrees, like railway signals.
âWhy does Hitler wear a military uniform?â said Anna. âThose flags and martial music. Labourers marching with spades on their shoulders as if they were rifles.â
âThey like parades,â George said.
âYou underestimate it,â said Anna. âThat Riefenstahl is clever. She works with juxtapositions. She juxtaposes the airplaneâs shadow with the church spires. Think about it in the way people in the Moscow Linguistic Circle would think about it. The airplane emerges from the clouds, like something in a Wagner opera. It represents modernity. Its shadow slides smoothly and beautifully across churches and traditional buildings of the town. Not just any town: the capital of the Holy Roman Empire, which was the First German Reich. Sheâs clever.â
âYou think she considered all this?â
âYou think she did not?â
âPerhaps she liked the images.â
âSomeone creates these things,â said Anna. âPerhaps not Riefenstahl on her own. Thoughtful people, artists. Men marching with spades on their shoulders â someone thought of that. What does it mean? It overturns habits of thinking, thatâs what. Assimilates civilian work to the rituals of soldiering. It implies that everyoneâs in the army.â
This was Annaâs intensity.
Werner smirked at her, not unkindly. âNot all life is literature,â he said.
âYou tell me,â said Anna, agitated now. âYou tell me what these parades mean. The music is corny, ta-ra, ta-ra. People march in step.â
âThey mean something important,â said Werner.
On the day after the visit to the cinema, Anna went to her office. George went to meet her there at three oâclock, and they walked together along Unter den Linden, Berlinâs grandest and most elegant boulevard. It was after they had turned and walked back along the boulevard, when they had stopped for coffee, that Anna made her startling suggestion.
14
âCome live with me . Please donât go back,â she said.
âRight now?â said George. âDecide to stay right now?â
âWhy donât you stay with me, and share my bed?â
âYou know