A Stage Adaptation of Robert Walser's Do You Know Meier?
Lights up on a café in Berlin. It is mid-morning. Kitsch is sitting alone at a
table for two. The table is of wrought iron, very trendy with its Japanned
patina and white marble tabletop. Of course, Kitsch only frequents the haunts
of real artistes. Of course. The tabletop, however, is not visible hidden under
the strewn sections of the daily paper which Kitsch has been studying under a,
proverbial, microscope all morning. He re-crosses his legs. He flips a page. He
uncrosses his legs. On the last open portion of the table, where the newspaper
has not produced its own pulpy topography, sits a cup of coffee and a plate
with the crumb remains of strudel. The waiter passes with a carafe. With a
silent gesture, he asks if Kitsch would like a refill. With a corresponding
silent gesture, Kitsch requests said refill, then continues to read his
newspaper. He has begun to read the review section, studying closely the book
reviews, gawking at the clowns who don't know simile from synecdoche,
positively fuming at the Philistines who can't appreciate good acting and
ground-breaking (in some cases literally through its forte fortissimo) music.
Kitsch twists his moustache.
Enter Kutsch at a stride, jacket draped over one arm. He spots Kitsch and
strides over to him.
KUTSCH: Kitsch! Good morning!
KITSCH: Ah Kutsch! I see you've found my new favourite spot! Care to join me?
I'm just having some breakfast.
KUTSCH: Don't mind if I do...
Kutsch drapes his jacket over the chair back, leans his walking stick against
the table, then removes the pile of newspapers from the seat, folds them in
half and places them neatly on top of the others on the table. He gives them a
little tap, then folds himself into the chair.
KUTSCH: Waiter! Some coffee and.... [looking over at Kitsch]
KITSCH: The strudel is [as though sharing a secret] divine.
Kitsch gives Kutsch a wry, mischievous smile.
KUSCH: ...and a strudel if you please!
WAITER: Right away mein herr...
Waiter goes to procure the coffee and strudel. Kutsch removes his hat, then his
grey gloves, placing the gloves inside his upturned hat. Finding no open place
on the table, he places them in his lap.
KITSCH: [almost to himself] I'll say... I'll say...
KUTSCH: What's that you're reading?
KITSCH: It's an absolutely ridiculous review of Eugene Stein's new show on at
the Odeon [beat] It's called "Hush, Hush!" The reviewer thinks that [emphasis]
dross is actually funny! I'd bet you a million Marks that he'd change his tune
when faced with a real performer!
KUTSCH: And which performer would that be?
KITSCH: You know who I'm talking about!
KUTSCH: No, who?
KITSCH: Meier of course!
KUTCH: Meyer? Like that oaf Hans Meyer? Isn't he an absolute bore!?
KITSCH: Nonononononooooo, Meier with an I E!
KUTCH: Ahhhhhhhhh, I seeeeeeeee...
KITSCH: I presume you've never heard of him.
KUTSCH: No, I don't think I have.
KITSCH: [taken aback] What?! Well then, my dear dear Kutsch, permit me to
humbly draw your attention to this man. Let me expound before you the sublime
talents of said entertainer.
KUTSCH: Do go on!
At this point the Waiter arrives with his tray on which is the coffee and
strudel for Kutsch.
KUTSCH: Thank you, thank you...
The waiter and Kutsch struggle to find a place for both the strudel and coffee
while Kitsch continues to speak.
KITSCH: So, He's currently appearing at the Café Bümplitz. It's that club on
the corner of what's-it and... I can't remember....
KUTSCH: [still trying to make some space, responding absentmindedly] Right...
KITSCH: Doesn't matter... Anyways, its one of those low dingy places that I
find absolutely ravishing --
KUTSCH: [by now Kutsch and the waiter have dropped newspaper all over the
floor, which Kutsch has bent down to pick up] Uh huh...
KITSCH: All the unseemly tobacco fumes and tankards of beer... a real
atmosphere! Anyways, that's where he performs night after night and will
presumably continue on performing until some clever impresario finally picks
him up, which I dare say will happen soon enough.
KUTSCH: [finally taking both the coffee and strudel in both his hands, placing
each of them carefully atop the newspaper pile while the waiter leaves with a
shrug] Of course. My dear Kitsch you are quite the seer in the theatrical
realm. But what makes this Meier --
KITSCH: -- With an I E --
KUTSCH: -- with an I E, more special than, say... Adolph Musselman or any of
the other club comics? Come on, he's got to be just another one of those hack
actors who can't make it on the circuit.
KITSCH: Ohohohoooo, you don't believe my evaluation!? Let me, like a magic
lantern show, project you a portrait of our Meier --
KUTSCH: -- with an I E --
KITSCH: Yes, with an I E...
Kitsch shifts his weight in the chair, uncrossing his legs and planting both
feet firmly on the floor with such exertion that Kutsch needs to steady his
precarious cup of coffee from which he has just sipped.
KITSCH: This man... is a genius.
KUTSCH: A genius? Pshhhhhhh...
KITSCH: Look here... It's not that he can make you laugh harder that twenty men
can laugh in all their lives added together, make you laugh `till your sides
split and you need to wear a corset just to keep yourself from falling apart --
Kutsch is chuckling, beaming at the performance that Kitsch is putting on.
KITSCH: No, what am I saying... laugh `till you're rolling in the aisles upon
the floor!... No... wait... this one's even better...until you absolutely
perish from the shear force of laughter!
Kutsch is laughing more now at the ridiculous comparisons.
KITSCH: Ah! Even mine own authorial cranium can't quarry a more apt
comparison... but It's not just that!
KUTSCH: Really...?
KITSCH: No! Not just comedy! But our Meier --
KUTSCH: With an I E --
KITSCH: Yes, with an I E, can even, and confusingly so, reach to the highest
peaks of tragic frisson. It all comes so naturally to him, almost too easily.
And pardon me for going on, he even sings!
KUTSCH: [sipping his coffee after having taken a bite of his strudel] He sings
too? Marvellous!
KITSCH: Yes, he sings music hall ditties with such a marvellous
don't-mind-if-I-do-ishness, in such a brilliant diction as through letting the
words drop forth from his mouth nugget-by-nugget, such that anyone listening
would genuflect at the man's feet to gather up each morsel of delicious
language.
KUTSCH: Ha!
KITSCH: The tone of his voice, and of this I've made quite a thorough study,
makes in sound a near perfect approximation of a snail's progress...
KUTSCH: A snail?
KITSCH: Yes.... A snail... So resplendently languorous... so lazy, so brown, so
reptant, so very......
KUTSCH: Slimy?
KITSCH: Yes... slimy, so gluey, and so -- and this I cannot stress firmly
enough -- terribly if-not-today-why-not-tomorrow. A pleasure! Pure and simple!
A pleasure that I cannot recommend more highly in good conscience, and
especially to you my dear Kutsch.
KUTSCH: Well! If you sing his praises to the highest peaks of Olympus, then
tell me more! What's his show like?
KITSCH: Well, Meier --
KUTSCH: with and I E --
KITSCH: Yes, with an I E, plays a theatrical usher.
KUTSCH: An usher?
KITSCH: Yes, a role he absolutely shines in, with [acting these out] the
horrifying trousers, the tall hat, the stuck-on nose, the box permanently glued
beneath his arm, the fat cigar, and not just any lips but a proper gob! And! A
bundle of the worst jokes known to man!
KUTSCH: Delightful!
KITSCH: Absolutely marvellous! I've seen him, [counting on his fingers] a
good... fifty times now, and I have yet to tire of the act.
KUTSCH: Really?
KITSCH: Of course! No one ever tires of excellence!
Kitsch stands up, hands askew. The waiter has now returned with his carafe of
coffee but stands to the side as Kitsch performs. Lights dim down on stage.
KITSCH: Let me set the scene: A small stage [draws the space of the stage by
passing around the table], harsh lighting from the tormenters [hands and body
tracing the path of the spotlight which comes in from stage left an right
tormenters to engulf the table, Kitsch, Kutsch, and the waiter], upon the stage
a table [gesturing to the table] and beside it a chair [maneuvering his chair
closer to the table] to represent a theatre manager's office you see.
Kutsch and the waiter nod.
KITSCH: And, behind the desk sits [Kitsch sits back down theatrically, as
though enthroned] the theatre manager herself, a young lady, who announces that
she has everything she needs to put on a cycle of performances but -- horror of
horrors! -- she has no usher to direct the guests and ring the 15-minute bell
during intermission, to direct the latecomers and make sure no one trips in the
dark. The state [beat] is dire! She already has posters plastered on every
street corner proclaiming the upcoming season!
KUTSCH: [ironically] By Jove! Spare me the terror!
KITSCH: But! She has placed advertisements in all the papers, calling for an
usher, stressing the emergency. Now, all she has to do is wait and see who
replies.
KUTSCH: Right...
KITSCH: But! At that very moment, you'll never guess who shows up like a wraith
from the underworld, but our dear Meier!
KUTSCH: with an I E?
KITSCH: With and I E! He comes [jumping up from his seat and acting this out
towards Kutsch and the waiter. Kutsch continues to casually eat his strudel and
sip his coffee, while the waiter is dumbfounded at the performance.] ambling up
the stairs, and every time the audience is astounded by his appearance... the
shear novelty of a Meier with an I E! The shear freshness of said Meier
KUTSCH: with an I E --
KITSCH: With an I E, trouser legging it up the stairs as though having just
done something [wry smile] which it would be improper to say aloud in polite
company.
KUTSCH: I'll say!
KITSCH: So, he reports to said manageress, who has surely read her fair share
of Oscar Wilde, with a circumlocutoriness that would be unsuitable on anyone
else's lips, one which could only fit in the gob of said Meier --
KUTSCH: with an I E --
KITSCH: with an IE... he asks and does the most foolish things! Then! He asks
further foolish things!
KUTSCH: Marvellous!
KITSCH: Then, he takes his leave from the office [miming a door opening and
walking through it]... only to enter it again[miming the opposite of what he
just did]!
KUTSCH: Hilarious!
KITSCH: But, you'll never guess what he does next...
KUTSCH: What does he do next?
KITSCH: He leaves once again with shear impudence, only to re-enter out of
nowhere! And by this point the crowd is already in stitches, so [staring to
laugh at the memory of the performance], he then leaves the office with an even
greater indecorousness in his demeaner, his speech, his gestures, his tone, and
his bearing... only [long beat, building up tension] to barge right back in
again!
KUTSCH: Good lord!
KITSCH: And he displays all the while such a talent for uttering the most
well-timed bit of filth! And uttering it how did I hear you ask? This, you can
only find out by seeing him with your own two eyes and hearing him with your
own two ears! [beat, but before anyone else can speak] But, the venue, this
Café Bümplitz, at the corner of what's-it and that other street --
KUTSCH: [nodding] Yes, yes --
KITSCH: -- you know the place... anyways, the venue fills up fast. A good
twenty or thirty patrons evening after evening, and on Saturdays and Sundays
maybe eighty or a hundred or a hundred fifteen or even one or two more than
that come to see him!
KUTSCH: Well, comedy is all well and good. [looking back toward the waiter] We
can all agree upon that can't we? [The waiter nods in agreement.] But what
about tragedy? You mentioned this Meier --
KITSCH: With an I E --
KUTSCH: -- with an I E, is a multitalented man...
KITSCH: Of course! He swims comfortably in both forms passed on to us from
Aristophanes, Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Menander --
KUTSCH: [ironically] We must never forget Menander!
KITSCH: [disregarding the facetiousness] To achieve the tragic impression,
[Kitsch acts both of the following things out clumsily] he need only change his
voice like this and throw his hands up in the air like this, a strategy which
has always worked. Then, he goes into a frenzy! He becomes a madman, a
[leering] King Leer!
KUTSCH: King Lear? How is that at all like King Lear?
KITSCH: Nononononono! Not Lear, but leer! Get it?
Kutsch gives kitsch a knowing smile and shakes his head at the horrible pun.
KITSCH: You see it's because he looks at the audience like this [acting it out,
leering again]. And then the audience does this [acting out, making a face of
over-the-top horror]. It's all very emotional! You see, I'm tearing up right
here before your very eyes at the thought.
Beat
KITSCH: Now, usually when Meier --
KUTSCH: with an I E --
KITSCH: With an I E, does this [acts its out like before] and the audience does
this [acts it out again], the audience usually thereafter does what's described
in the line: "and all haste betook them home." All make a quick exit, except
for me, your stouthearted friend who's in a habit of staying on.
KUTSCH: And I wouldn't expect any less from you my dear Kitsch!
KITSCH: And only then am I able to experience that true terror when a human
voice becomes a shear edifice rising upon the stage, as does the voice of Meier
--
KUTSCH: with an I E --
KITSCH: With an I E, an edifice through whose windows and doors a great beastly
voice is heard to bellow sonorously!
KUTSCH: [looking over at the waiter] Sonorously!
KITSCH: Sonorously! How I shake with fear even now in recounting his astounding
performance...[shaking emotively, flinging himself into the chair dramatically,
the lights come back to their earlier condition at this point and Kitsch's
performance comes to a close] Each time I am glad when he finally decrescendos
into the lower register and becomes, once again, simply Meier with an I E.
KUTSCH: [wiping his mouth with a napkin, having finished the breakfast that had
been preoccupying him] Well, my dear Kitsch, this Meier --
KITSCH: -- with an I E --
KUTSCH -- with an I E, seems to be extraordinary...
KITSCH: Well, then follow me Kutsch... [bolting up from his seat; the waiter
goes to retrieve Kitsch's coat and hat from a coat rack] I will lead you to the
very lion's den of this sublime performer! But first, we must gird ourselves by
taking a turn together in the Tiergarten --
KUTSCH: I see what you did there Kitsch, marvellous!
KITSCH: -- why thank you -- and further preparing with a late luncheon on me.
KUTSCH: [also standing up, putting on his hat and digging in his pocket for
money to pay for their breakfast] You are too kind my dear Kitsch.
KITSCH: Its is no problem at all my dear dear friend!
They are now both ready and the waiter has been paid.
KITSCH: Now, take my arm and we will be off!
Kutsch takes his arm. They seem to be as one person mirrored.
WAITER: [having counted the money received] You are too kind mein Herren!
Both doff their hats at once.
KUTSCH: Onward! Let us go forth and see the great Meier!
KITSCH: With an I E!
Both march off stage left.
Exunt Kutsch and Kitsch.
The waiter shrugs and moves to begin clearing the table.
