2 4 4 D O C U M E N T 2 4 7 M A Y 1 9 2 4
I do not want the family to invest all its liquid assets this way, though. I also do
not know whether it can be made liquid without loss, the way it is now invested.
I pointed out all these things to
Albert[10]
yesterday evening (he was visiting me
here for about 2 hours), is steady, thorough, honest, reliable, and considers every-
thing when his attention is drawn to the contingencies of experience.
Should I perh[aps] keep money readily available? Now I could per[haps] do so;
better than a few years ago.
247. To Betty Neumann
[Kiel,] 14 May 1924
Dear little Betty,
Your second letter just arrived and, furthermore, glorious spring has also moved
into our northern corner. And best of all, in a fortnight I’ll have you nearby again
and that’ll be the end of the dignified solitude, which over the long term cannot be
sweetened either by comfortable living or by work or by anything else. Nature
knows how to get obedience from us manikins. It still is best to comply to her will
without much resistance. My life here is quite regal. In a sub-inlet of the Bay of
Kiel directly by the water lies the property with the factory, a garden sloping down
toward the water, and a spacious building, on the ground floor of which I roam on
my
own.[1]
There I ponder, play piano, read, write, and eat my meals. In the morn-
ing alone, in the evening with Mr. Anschütz, who is a gourmet. Thus, against my
inclination, I must lead the life of a gourmand. In the water, a sailboat always lies
ready for
use.[2]
At noon all the leading men of the factory eat together, so variety
in the conversation is also provided for. It’s as fine as it can be in a monastery, and
that means something. It’s nice of you that for my sake you’re so proud of your first
gray hair. We all must contribute toward ensuring that not too many more grow.
Otherwise your
mother[3]
will rightly say that her little daughter is suffering from
harsh Berlin and its wicked inmates. From your letter the cozy gracefulness of Aus-
trian life peeks out, which I am somewhat acquainted with since Prague, yet Graz
must be more leisurely with the gentle smile of its privy councilors and the varia-
tion in human experience only perceptible to the seasoned native, and with the
snobbery enlivened by a bit of impudence in poise. I’m condemned to read a Ger-
man translation of Lucretius, in whose scientific masterpiece love also finds a very
conscientious and thoroughly droll
representation.[4]
I’ll recite it to all of you in
Berlin.
Enjoy life and accept, together with your dear mother and both your
menfolk,[5]
my warm
regards,[6]
yours,
Albert.