Konrad and Alexandra (PDF) - Rolf Gross

these texts."However, Ch'an is the most typically Chinese variant of Buddhism, laconic, ascetic, and dedicated to radically abstractmeditative exercises, an attempt to overcome the Indo-European inclination to intellectually analyze fundamentalreligious insights. Ch'an claims to be the fastest meditative exercise to reach nirvana. I have no experience with easternmeditation exercises and cannot vouch for this claim."Konrad’s Chinese teacher finally introduced him to a highly cultivated sixty-year-old Chinese gentleman who, thoughalmost offensively disinterested in Konrad, promised to teach him calligraphy. Obviously the man did not believe Konradwould last long, and offered to teach him strictly as a favor to Konrad’s Chinese teacher.The man, Professor Li, or laoshi Li, as his students addressed him, gave him a long Chinese brush and an ink-stone andfirst taught him how to rub a black sooty substance on the stone with water into a smooth ink. Then he had to practiceteasing the brush into a fine point and holding it in the right way. Laoshi Li was meticulous. No two right ways of holdingthat twenty-centimeter-long bamboo stick existed. Next, Konrad spent two weeks practicing various strokes on largepieces of newspaper. It was not easy, but finally Konrad met with Li’s approval.Li never smiled and never made an encouraging remark. He signaled his satisfaction by giving Konrad a new sheet onwhich to practice. One day Li looked Konrad in the eye, he normally avoided all eye contact, and said,"Now you can prove your mettle by drawing the character ling, meaning nothingness, the Void. It looks the same as aWestern O. It is the only circular stroke in Chinese, and drawing it is one of the fundamental Ch'an exercises."Konrad perked his ears. With one move of his wrist, his teacher drew a large, perfectly round circle that began with thefull brush and ended in the thinnest lift-off just before closing the figure. Li’s wrist control was uncanny, and, of course,Konrad made a fool of himself trying to emulate him.This was the first time Li smiled. "It is a concentration exercise that will take you months to learn. Keep on trying toperfect that stroke while you practice other characters. When you think you have mastered the ‘art of ling’ show it to me.Then you might become my student."One simple brush stroke instead of a hundred words was sufficient to be accepted as a Ch'an student.Li considered the ling exercises a bonus after hours of hard work, "to limber up your wrist." Li made up sheet after sheetof characters that Konrad had to practice. He had intimated that he would teach him first a simple, easily readable style.Later he might learn a individualized hand. Li showed Konrad some scrolls painted in a flowing cursive style of fleeting,most feminine strokes that looked very elegant but were nearly unreadable. Calligraphy was the essence of Chinese art.The ling exercises remained a most trying task—more daunting than the turn, which the semabashi of El-Zafaran’s tekketaught him once a week.Konrad worked into the small hours of the night at his Chinese exercises. Alexandra soon felt neglected. She had to getup at six to cope with her many obligations during the day. They barely saw each other at breakfast. Needing her sleep,Alexandra moved out of their common bedroom into the guestroom. Her deserting him, as he saw it, increased thetensions between them. Almost daily they had smaller and larger arguments about trivialities, although both knew, that ahurting word would forever be remembered while good deeds had to be repeated again and again not to be forgotten.On one such occasion Konrad accused Alexandra of always pretending to know better."Better than what or who?" she objected. "I may know a few things which you don’t, but when it gets to the detail, it’s youwho knows everything better than I. The problem is that you are irritated that I spontaneously voice what moves me,instead of burying my worries internally as you do. Unfortunately I am not like my mother, who spent all her life buildingup her husband.""Sometimes I feel," mumbled Konrad, "that it would be better if you would hold your tongue more often instead of tellingthe whole world what you think is the truth."Alexandra struck her husband from her mind. She did not have the time to concern herself with his emotional problems,though she could not avoid being constantly physically reminded of Konrad’s dark mood. She devoted herself to herpatients, among whom there now were also a few difficult emotional cases. Alexandra had become interested in thepsychological problems of people, because she suspected that they were often the precursors of serious systemic andchronic diseases such as cancer, asthma, and arthritis.During this restless time Vladimir brought her the manuscript of his pornographic novel. Alexandra was not eager to readit.Vladimir’s "opus" had a title now: The Last Princess of Svaneti. It was written in the first person. Alexandra often hadtrouble deciding whether it was the voice of its heroine, Thamila, or that of Nana, the pseudonymous author.I was born in the mountains of Svaneti at the castle of my father, Prince David Gurjani. Surrounded by the icy peaks ofUshba, Leila, and Elbrus, among meadows full of wildflowers in spring, our herds of sheep and cattle in summer and thefierce cold of winter I grew up an innocent, protected maiden more attuned to horses and animals than to people.Oh, Svaneti, the land of towers and old churches how I miss you now that I am condemned to live in this big Russiancity…It went on like this for a while, shallow and predictable, the heroine reminiscing about her childhood in well-worn clichés.Thamila developed into a wild and daring horsewoman, her father doted on her, mother was conservative and severe,161