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FEUCHTWANGER'S
WRITINGS
Lion Feuchtwanger
on Himself
This
satiric, autobiographical sketch was written by Lion Feuchtwanger
in the early 1940s.
The writer L.F.
was born in the second to the last decade of the nineteenth century
in the land of Bavaria in a city called Munich. He was instructed
in 211 disciplines, including Hebrew, applied psychology, Sanskrit,
compound interest calculation, Gothic and gymnastics, by 98 teachers
in all. It took him 19 years to eradicate from his memory 172 of these
211 disciplines.
Berlin, the capital
of the Reich, when he studied at its university, contained 3,827,394
inhabitants, among which were 1,443 actors, 167 generals, 1,107 authors
and journalists, 412 fishermen, 1 Emperor, 9,213 students, 134 dog
catchers, 112,327 rooming house landladies, 1 genius. The writer L.F.
spent 14 years in the schools and universities of Berlin and Munich,
7 1/2 months in the army, 5 months and 17 days in different concentration
camps; during the rest of his life he considered himself to be in
relative freedom. For a total of 5,238 days, he had insufficient funds
and for 417 days none at all. He signed 1,756 contracts and he had
423 discussions on religious questions, 2,718 on social, 3,764 on
literary, 213 on political ones, 256 on money problems, and 22,314
conversations on everyday matters-including housing, food, laundry,
shaving, and so on.
In his prime,
the writer L.F. was 65 inches tall and weighed 134 pounds. He had
25 of his own teeth including some prominent ones shaped like roof
tiles, and 7 gold teeth. He had thick, dark blond hair and wore glasses.
He was a good swimmer and a poor dancer. He liked seafood of all kinds,
disliked grains, liked his baths very hot, hated dogs and tobacco,
and loved cats. He drank good wine and tea, but very little spirits
and coffee; also he ate far too few vegetables. He was sympathetic
with the theory of vegetarianism and esteemed the Hindus' way of life,
but in practice he was a big meat-eater. There can be no doubt that,
had he restrained his liking for meat, he would have reached a considerably
greater age. But, as it was, by the time he reached his prime, he
had already eaten 9,148 pieces of beef, 1,712 pieces of game, and
2,113 pieces of fowl. Of salt water fish he had consumed 9,014-of
fresh water fish some 2,738 (not including the innumerable shellfish,
oysters, mussels, and snails). All this with great enjoyment, yet
often oppressed by the thought of how much life had to be extinguished
in order to nourish his own.
Germany, when
the writer L.F. flourished in this country, counted 63,284,617 so-called
souls. 667,884 of these were employed by the post office and railroad,
40,103 were physicians, 856 critics, 8,287 authors, and 15,043 midwives.
In Germany there were 36,461 officially registered idiots and cretins.
The writer L.F. had the misfortune of having to deal with a large
portion of them.
The writer L.F.
committed 23,257 venial sins, and two grave ones. He performed 10,069
good deeds and two really good ones that were attributed to other
people. He was married once. He rescued two girls from death by drowning,
seven youngsters from becoming actors, 19 not untalented youngsters
from the profession of writing. In 907 cases of the latter kind, he
failed.
The writer L.F.
could compose prose at the rate of 25 lines per hour and poetry at
the rate of 50 lines. During an hour of composing prose, he generally
lost 13 ounces in weight. His writings were banned 278 times, 922
reviewers extolled his inner religiousness, 1,075 reviled him for
his blasphemy and called for the Public Prosecutor. He met 912 authors,
among whom were 18 really gifted men and one and a half geniuses;
one of these geniuses did not write.
The world made
many claims on the writer L.F. He received 4,185 manuscripts for appraisal
and assistance from young writers who were insulted when he took more
than two days to read their work. 27,169 wanted his autograph; 826
ladies applied for secretarial positions. He had 233 relatives, 9,124
acquaintances, and one friend.
The writer L.F.
was perfectly happy 19 times and abysmally troubled 24 times during
his life. 587 times he was wearied to the bone by the stupidity of
the world. Then he grew hard-boiled. Having realized that achievement
is not synonymous with success, nor personality with achievement,
if asked by God: "Are you content with the life I gave you?," he would
respond: "Yes, I should like to do it all over again."
Updated August
1998. For more information contact the Feuchtwanger
Librarian
