All I Have To Do Is Dream...

It's time to leave the ruins of post-war Cologne now, and the German Literature Month Tour Bus is making another long journey south, this time returning to Austria over the next couple of days to peruse two classic pieces of short writing.  Yes, it would have made for a shorter trip if this stop had been scheduled after our last visit to Vienna - we apologise for the inconvenience...

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Back in August, during my own month of German-language reading, I read a couple of novellas by Arthur Schnitzler (Leutnant Gustl & Fräulein Else), psychological tales providing insights into the minds of the protagonists and the wider Austrian society alike.   I had been intending to return to Schnitzler at some point, and the current event seemed like a fitting opportunity to read one of his most famous works, Traumnovelle (Dream Novella) - perhaps best known in English for providing the basis of Stanley Kubrick's last film, Eyes Wide Shut...

The story takes place over two days in late-nineteenth-century Vienna, where we meet Fridolin, a successful doctor, and his younger wife Albertine.  The couple appear at first glance to be a happily-married couple with a beautiful young daughter, but appearances, as we know, can be deceiving.  Beneath the urbane, civilised surface, both Fridolin and Albertine harbour repressed sexual desires, urges which they will attempt to satisfy in very different ways.

While the younger Albertine, sexually naive at the time of her marriage, is starting to lose herself in dreams and fantasies of other lovers, her husband is tempted to do much more.  In a night of unusual occurrences, the opportunity arrives to betray his wife and give in to his desire to experiment sexually.  However, the following day, everything is seen in a very different light...

The premise sounds risqué and highly sexually charged, and this is the impression I had before reading Traumnovelle; the truth, however, is that events are (for the most part), a lot less explicit than I had expected.  In reality, it is the possibility, the promise, of sexual activity which is tantalisingly portrayed; Schnitzler is actually far more concerned with what's going on inside the heads of our (relatively reserved) friends than in any bedroom antics they may get up to.

Fridolin, despite all his bluster and macho bravado, actually comes across as a little boy on an awfully big adventure.  We are told most of the story through his eyes, and (naturally) the women he meets all appear to see something special in him, whether it's the daughter of his recently deceased patient, the lady of the night he encounters or the mysterious stranger at a very exclusive party (the kind where clothing is - at least late in the evening - strictly optional...).  However, in the cold, rather wintry, light of day, his allure is not quite as obvious.

In fact, the reader is led to believe that he has no intention of philandering and is merely jealous of his wife's nocturnal fantasies.  The couple agree at the start of the novella to be honest with each other (to a fault!), so why is Fridolin so upset with Albertine for revealing her little sexual dreams?  Well, I'm afraid I'm not qualified to go deeper into that area (especially while we're in Vienna!), so I'll just leave the couple where the book finishes, a little closer than they were before, but perhaps also a little farther apart.

If you want tense, ambiguous writing, with excellent descriptions of the shadowy side of Viennese culture, this is definitely one to try.  It's a book to devour in a single sitting; just don't expect to come away with all the answers that quickly.  I'm hoping to return to Traumnovelle for another try soon as, like Schnitzler's other stories, it may need a second reading for the writer's intentions to fully sink in...