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For you everything was emotional froth: your fling in Frankfurt, and unfortunately also what you had with me. On each occasion, it wasn’t anything to do with the conditions, it lay in your nature. You needed an atmosphere of adventure, of conspiracy, to excite you. Our early days satisfied that, bu…

Ludwig has gone and gotten himself baptized, Hans told her three weeks ago. “A palaver,” he called it, and: He does it just to annoy me.

Only now has spring properly sprung. Did Katharina ever desire Hans like this? She dances around her apartment, drinks wine in the middle of the day, sketches, paints, glues collages — and loves Hans whenever he comes by, and mixed in with the pictures of love that are happening are thoughts of wom…

In the middle of April, Hans collects Katharina from a performance at the Volksbühne, The Drunken Ship, a play about Rimbaud. A Castorf production, but he didn’t want to see it with her, only afterwards does he tell her why not. You remember: My heart by the bow must vomit. The Rimbaud quote appear…

Hermann Kant wants to give up the presidency of the Writers’ Union, but it seems better for everyone — they take soundings — that he stay on as titular head, and five deputies do the work, instead of waiting for a new president to be appointed by Erich Honecker. And apropos Honecker, how long will …