Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Pages 177-179

This Month's Installment

    In the large hall of the hospital, Edith sat and kept the nightwatch.  The green-veiled lamp threw its pale light on a sheet of paper on the small table in front of her.  It was Fritz's letter; she had read it over and over.
    Around her lay the wounded.  Some slept; their breaths sounded steadily through the quiet of the hall; others sighed loudly now and then and groaned; still others lay completely still; sleepless, with wide open eyes, they lookt into the pale, dawning light.  These were they who had suffered most heavily.  Now and then

---177---

one askt to drink, or he wanted to be laid differently, or his wounds ached and he sought relief.
    Edith preferred when she had something to do.  But it lasted only a short time, and again she sat in her place inactive, tormented by her thoughts.
    Outside, the storm raged; it broke the branches and boughs in the garden; it beat on the window with a heavy hand and drove the rain that had started fiercely around midnight, splashing and pattering on the panes.
    She thought of so many nights when storm and rain had likewise raged around the old Reckenstein manor house, when she was awakened in the middle of a sound sleep by its noise and had felt only so much more cozy and secure in her soft bed.  Altogether, how peaceful and beautiful had her youth been, with what warm love she had surrounded her father, how tender a bond existed between them, despite the dissimilarity of her nature and his sometimes severe and irascible manner!  But she knew him and the valiant center of his heart.
    Now he had fallen out there, and she sat here and watched over the wounded whom his heroic death had saved.  And everything that she saw and experienced was so great and tremendous that one was not allowed to complain and grumble, even if one had personally to make the most difficult sacrifice.
    Now she was alone; she no longer had anyone who was close to her.  The old man had been both her father and mother.  Who took care of her life and her health now?  It was good that she could care for others.
    Again, her glance fell on the letter; again

---178---

she read it.  He who had written it had been much to her in the past, a faithful comrade of her youth.

Grammatical Minutiae/Commentary

I translated "aufgerissenen" as "open" ("wide open eyes"), but it's really a more intense notion than that, something like "torn open."

I don't know if this is significant, but the same word ("heftig") is used in sequential paragraphs to describe the storms that Edith remembers and the old Reckensteiner.  I translated them differently, though (it was only when I was typing up my translation later that I noticed that the same word is used):  "the rain that had started fiercely around midnight" and "his sometimes severe and irascible manner."

I was puzzled about what to do with the sentence "Wen kümmerte jetzt noch ihr Leben und ihr Ergehen?"  There's a singular verb ("kümmerte") that seems to go with the singular "wen" and not the compound (and thus plural) "ihr Leben und ihr Ergehen," but "wen" is in the accusative case, not the nominative.  I translated it as "Who took care of her life and her health now?" because it seems to fit the context better.