This story is purely fictional, borrowing the narrative structure and character relationships from Almodóvar's film "la mala educación." The character names are taken from Hermann Hesse's "Steppenwolf" and inspired by Chen Chuncheng's novel "Submarine at Night."
Characters: Narcissus (older brother), Geraldmon, Naxisos (younger brother), Emil (sentry)
Yan Feng, I've been wanting to tell you. After you left Beijing, I actually missed you a lot. Yesterday, I took some time to read a book, planning to read an hour each day, but ended up staying up late to finish it. I want to tell you about it. You once told me I was the angel under the Berlin sky. After finishing this book, I want to tell you, angels don't always bring good news. When you finish this story, you'll understand.
In 1913, Hitler hadn't given up on being a painter yet. Bishop August Maralens of Hanover had a proud student named Gustav, who was the headmaster of the Hanover Holy Trinity Church School at the time. Gustav, though conservative and rigorous, was an upright cleric who led monks and students in virtuous ways, imparting orthodox beliefs.
Narcissus and Geraldmon were both students at the Holy Trinity School. Under the influence of the headmaster, they grew up together, receiving holy grace and inheriting orthodox beliefs.
Narcissus displayed extraordinary musical talent. In 1925, he was admitted into the choir. After evening prayers, Narcissus would always go to the auditorium to study music theory. This routine made Geraldmon, who slept below him, feel lonely; he could only fall asleep to the sound of Narcissus's regular movements. Therefore, Geraldmon was determined to study music with Narcissus. Narcissus excelled in singing and was proficient in piano, while Geraldmon, though slightly behind, caught up with Narcissus. Later, Narcissus stopped singing. He told the clerics that Geraldmon sang better than him and recommended Geraldmon to join the choir. From then on, Narcissus focused on piano skills, while Geraldmon excelled in singing. They immersed themselves in medieval hymns, tirelessly studying the structure of fugues daily, and later indulging in the tonalities of the Neo-Classical period. They were true soulmates, although they occasionally argued over Beethoven and Mozart's sonatas, Narcissus always said that Geraldmon made the most sense.
Music and the trees of beech, oak, and boxwood in the monastery accompanied their growth. On spring mornings, Geraldmon would quietly pick a blue flower ball from the grass patch in the courtyard, listening to Narcissus's increasingly clear snoring at night, taking an oil lamp by the moonlit window, and slowly approaching Narcissus's face. Confirming that he was asleep, Geraldmon would place the flower ball on Narcissus's forehead, arrange his unruly hair with his hands, lightly touch the petals, and mix the flower ball with his hair. In the morning, Narcissus would wake up to the spicy fragrance but never got annoyed. Sitting up from his bedding, he praised the purple orchid petals as a gift from Tarot (the Greek goddess of spring). Hearing this, Geraldmon covered Narcissus's mouth, asking him to speak softly to avoid being scolded as a heretic by the clerics.
During the autumn season, they always confessed under the maple tree, intentionally or unintentionally expressing their dislike for Christmas because they would not see each other for a week during that time. Narcissus comforted Geraldmon: "You get to see your mother at home, and she can make delicious fig jam and duck liver for you. Remember to bring me more when the holiday is over." Geraldmon just replied that Narcissus should learn some upper-class etiquette from his younger brother at the boarding school. In a few autumns, when they talked about each other's families, the conversations always ended sadly.
Until the deep autumn of 1933, Nazi flags were hung on the sandstone walls of the school quadrangle, and Headmaster Gustav was impeached. They never saw the headmaster again. Narcissus's parents decided to take him and his brother to Berlin. On the night of their departure, Narcissus found a wall of the Hanover home. Like today's Berlin, it was snowing lightly that night. He was wearing only Greek sandals, stepping into the slowly softening muddy ground, sinking with each step into a mix of mud and ice. He walked slowly for a long time until he saw Geraldmon waiting for him under the maple tree they often visited. This time they didn't complain about Christmas anymore. There were too many words of farewell, so they stood silently under the tree for a long time until the full moon shone on both of them, and their shadows curled up under their feet.
They promised to write letters to each other, nothing more.
Yan Feng, the story ends here. I'm sure you also hope they would be like us. Indeed, they are just like us—never ceasing their correspondence. After the war, they eventually returned to Berlin until the Berlin Wall was erected.
Narcissus did consider moving away, but his younger brother Naxisos and parents had firmly become atheists, believers in communism, and hedonists, so besides East Germany, no other place suited them. In 1948, fearing that their home would be seized, Narcissus sent all his records to Geraldmon. The events of 1949 proved Narcissus's actions to be incredibly wise. During this time, black market transactions were ongoing, and sometimes Narcissus would buy phonograph records from the reeds near the southern suburbs of the Spree River. He could no longer own a piano or sing hymns, so these records were necessary. Although Beethoven's Fifth Symphony or Mozart's K330 often echoed in his mind, over time he sometimes couldn't distinguish which phrases were his creations and which were pieces by past composers. He would write fragments of music on paper, sometimes on rough paper or black market parchment, even on maple bark, and hand them over to black market traders for Geraldmon.
In early 1950, Narcissus could still receive replies from Geraldmon. In Geraldmon's few words, Narcissus could sense his fervor, thinking it was Geraldmon's longing for him. However, in 1951, Geraldmon informed him in a letter that he was moving to the capital. He had received an invitation from the Federal German Music Association to become the principal musician of the Bonn Symphony Orchestra.
Later, Narcissus learned from black market traders that Geraldmon had become famous and was soon to marry a parliament member's daughter.
In 1952, Narcissus turned thirty-one. His mother constantly reminded him that he was getting older and should marry and have children. When autumn arrived, his mother introduced him to a good girl named Katya. Thanks to his father's connections, Narcissus finally entered the Music Review Committee, where he served as a reviewer specializing in checking the compliance of composers' works. His brother Naxisos also worked in the committee, and their musical talents and humble personalities were admired by their colleagues. However, Narcissus did not actually enjoy this job. His brother had already become the vice chairman, while he remained just a member.
Sometimes Katya would come to Narcissus's house for dinner. Narcissus and Naxisos's mother arranged for someone to buy caviar, wake up early at six in the morning to go to the market to select the freshest ham, and find some date wood branches for smoking the ham. On the day Katya visited, their mother would take out the fermented sauerkraut from the cellar, make some red vegetable soup, and roast the smoked ham in the earthen oven for three hours. During this time, she would repeatedly check to ensure that every side of the ham was evenly colored, carefully using a fork to open small holes to ensure the surface of the ham was crispy enough. After roasting the ham, their mother would also prepare an Olivier salad. These dishes were rarely eaten by their family.
Katya's voice could be heard from a distant place. She loved singing, and her laughter sounded like a song. Narcissus's mother always greeted Katya with a smiling face, saying to her, "It would be great if you were my daughter. Then I would have three children who can sing." Narcissus watched his mother and Katya, but he couldn't find any happiness in it.
In 1953, Katya married Narcissus's younger brother Naxisos. At the wedding, many relatives and friends couldn't tell who was the groom between Narcissus and Naxisos because they looked so much alike. During the lively banquet, a colleague from the committee made some inappropriate jokes, saying to Katya, "Katya, you've married two men this time! Haha. What a lucky girl." Naxisos threw a wine glass, narrowly missing the colleague's face, with Narcissus intervening just in time. The shards of the wine glass splattered onto Narcissus's wrist, leaving a deep cut that bled profusely. Narcissus was rushed to the hospital, and he never found out what happened at the rest of the wedding. The doctor informed him that the tendons in his left wrist had been injured by the wine glass. Ten years earlier, Narcissus might have wept bitterly, but now it no longer mattered because he had long stopped playing the piano.
Later, Naxisos and Katya had three children. For the second child, Naxisos named him Geraldmon. Narcissus's mother often urged him to marry and introduced a new girl almost every month, but he never found any of them suitable. On the days of these arranged meetings, he would always find an excuse to slip away, or he would stay at home and recall musical scores from memory, only to burn them all in the fireplace afterward. Initially, it took him an hour to memorize Beethoven's Sonata Pathétique, but with more meetings, he could now do it in just ten minutes.
Due to his frequent cancellations, which offended many of his mother's friends, his mother was on the verge of cutting ties with him. Despite numerous attempts, his mother couldn't persuade him, and all his friends and relatives thought he was eccentric. His colleagues also distanced themselves from him, except for one named Alyosha, who always invited him to lunch. Their conversations were sparse, mainly revolving around food or the weather. The weather in Berlin was consistently bad, and they often complained about the unstable heating in their office. One afternoon, as the workday neared its end, the office grew colder, with frost gradually forming on the glass between the wooden window frames. Narsissus was engrossed in watching this, while Alyosha stood behind him, oblivious. On Narsissus's desk lay a score soon to be destroyed, and as Alyosha picked it up and began to sing, Narsissus hastily struck a match and set the score on fire.
"I actually think this piece of music is great," Alyosha whispered near Narsissus's ear.
Narsissus remained silent.
After that, Narsissus always ate alone at the far end of the cafeteria, by the window on the right. Alyosha tried a few times to sit opposite him, but Narsissus quickened his pace each time, breaking his bread into smaller pieces to soak in the beetroot soup, which he then gulped down. Over time, Alyosha stopped speaking to Narsissus altogether.
In 1959, his mother passed away from tuberculosis. In 1960, his father died in an accident at a steel mill, where molten steel poured down from a height. His father sacrificed himself to save the secretary, plunging into the furnace along with the 1,400-degree steel. The steel mill honored his father and allocated a 40-square-meter apartment to the brothers. Narsissus moved out from his parents' old house and no longer lived with his brother's family.
In 1961, all communications were cut off. Narsissus felt no shock in his heart; he hadn't expected to reconnect with Geraldmon anyway. It was just that the construction of the Berlin Wall severed more physical connections, including being built near the marketplace by the reed bed he used to frequent. Along the picturesque first curve of the Spree River's east bank, the gray-white cement stone wall was topped with huge circular mesh cages. Every few dozen meters, a watchtower stood, segmenting the gray-white cement stone wall into discontinuous structures. From afar, it looked like blocks of cement piled on the side of the river, as if building a dam to collect all the water flow. Along with the accumulating water, Narsissus's compositions also accumulated, albeit all in his mind.
The incident with Alyosha in the past had caused him a lot of trouble. All his office belongings were taken away for inspection, nearly causing a scene at his home. Fortunately, his parents were still around at that time. Now, he was all alone, and his words and actions needed to be even more cautious. He had always been disciplined and polite, and this approach sometimes reminded him of his days in the monastery, where he behaved like a Gregorian monk, never missing evening prayers and always attending choir practice.
Until one day, Alyosha suddenly told him to go to the old reed bed of the former marketplace at 8:00 in the evening; Geraldmon would be waiting for him on the west side of the wall.
On that entire day, he was too preoccupied to work. Not once did he open the files sent by his colleagues on the committee. He brushed off any requests made of him. He spent the entire day lost in thought, absentmindedly rubbing the documents on his desk with his fingers. The parchment paper bag beneath his fingers was damp with his sweat, leaving behind numerous round sweat stains that formed dark impressions along their edges. As the end-of-day bell rang, his eardrums felt the rhythmic vibrations. While his other colleagues departed one by one, he remained seated, staring at stacks of manuscripts awaiting review on the glass table.
A decision had to be made. Could this be a trap? Many had been purged recently; it was entirely possible that this was someone's attempt to set him up. Moreover, if it was information from Alyosha, he couldn't trust it at all.
It had been ten years since he last communicated with Geraldmon.