Diary 1903-1906

Tuesday, July 26, 1904

Today, for the first time in half a year, I woke up after 3 a.m. and thought... I thought. I thought over the whole stay in Klonowska[1]  - and only then did I see clearly how great things could have been. Our lives there. And one fundamental mistake was that Telka did not go to Kalisz. If she had stayed there in the grammar school, Rózia would have followed her example, and I, left with only Madzia, would certainly not have been yelling outside, at least I would not have poisoned the air with constant complaints about boredom and lack of company. Of course, a wise Pole after the damage.[2] And now I simply do not have the courage to speak to my parents again. Mutual relations have become tangled like a web, and I am not able to loosen them – not even.

I was in various moods in Klonowa, but in such as now, probably never. I feel so terribly unwell, not for any personal reasons, only because of this terrible despair of my parents due to the lack of business and coming to Łódź. If only there were some business! - if my parents were not so worried - I would sacrifice all my personal happiness for their happiness at this moment

Notes:

[1] Kolonwa is a small village in Lodz area (72 km from Lodz): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Klonowa,_%C5%81%C3%B3d%C5%BA_Voivodeship

[2] Old, common Polish proverb.

Saturday, August 13, 1904

My terrible internal turmoil bursts outward. Mom says that she simply does not recognize me, she does not know – she says – whether it is from illness, nerves or anger, but I have apparently become very bad. I myself am simply terrified by my condition. I do not know what will happen in life in general, in mine in particular, I do not know where to go and what to do? Never before have I seen the full horror of these questions in such a bright light. What am I to do? Should I sit here or go to educate myself, or desire to live on [????], or lie down (?), throw myself (?), or not demand anything and be as Tolstoy convinces? What should I do? What is my life (?)? What should I do with it? What are my duties? Why am I so mean, miserable, low? Why is it that I am completely permeated with altruistic thoughts? What a terrible contrast between my inner and outer "I"? Why do I feel such disgust for myself?

Friday, September 16,1904

I am returning from the Saturday school session. I am very sad – I do not know why. Whether because there was an excellent paid position there, for which I did not apply for, perhaps for various reasons, or because I see the futility of all human efforts to improve all human efforts – I am quite sad. I thought that autumn would lessen my longing for Klonowa, but it has not. I am so drawn to this life without fever that I am often bitterly worried. Mother intends to write to Aunt Zuker[1] in Paris, asking if she would agree to have me for two years when I am at the university – although in practice I would not be happy with that, because I am bound here by certain activities, certain intentions and goals. Above all (all), however, my father's lack of business interests thwarts everything. How I feel bad when I recall our present state! I suffer terribly over this. Will it all change once?

I am returning from the Saturday school session. I am very sad – I do not know why. Whether because there was an excellent paid position there, for which I did not apply for, perhaps for various reasons, or because I see the futility of all human efforts to improve all human efforts – I am quite sad. I thought that autumn would lessen my longing for Klonowa, but it has not. I am so drawn to this life without fever that I am often bitterly worried. Mother intends to write to Aunt Zuker [r1] in Paris, asking if she would agree to have me for two years when I am at the university – although in practice I would not be happy with that, because I am bound here by certain activities, certain intentions and goals. Above all (all), however, my father's lack of business interests thwarts everything. How I feel bad when I recall our present state! I suffer terribly over this. Will it all change once?

Notes:

[1] Aunt Franka mentions Aunt Zucker in another document, a Lubliner.

Wednesday, September 28, 1904

A nice paradox of my own fabrication: “Without phosphorus there is no thought” said Moleschott[1] . Phosphorus is only found in bones. Animals and invertebrates do not have thought – the more the skeletal system develops, the more phosphorus, the more thought.

Notes:

[1] A Dutch physiologist, and this one of his maxims.

Thursday, October 6, 1904

Mom came from Warsaw, and this business was a flop. She also went to the doctor on the subject of Dad, and he told her to live in the country or in a small town. Naturally, there was great regret with Klonowa, and I was the first to do so, as always. I understand now what it means to faint from pain, it is a state when a person is overcome by such helplessness, impotence, passivity, but there is no apathy. I am in such a state. I regret very much that we left there, because life could have been arranged differently there. We could have been the happiest people in the world. "Well - tu l'as value George Dandin". The words come to my mind many times! And by the way, I would not wish to move to such a Klonow bed for anything in the world, I would be as if dead. In fact, my parental home has a very bad effect on me, I feel that only by some miracle do I not lose the ability to think, I am always as if crushed in our home, everything is suppressed in me and withers. Whose fault is it? I do not know - but I know that any progress in our home is closed to me, only the moment I free myself from it could I achieve something. For now, I only have three great desires:

1. for Dad's health to improve

2. for him to find some kind of business

3. for me to have a blast with my lessons

Otherwise, my life will once again be a mindless and terrible torment. 

Friday, October 7, 1904

Yesterday, before the evening, a quarrel began between me, Mom, and Julek about this departure from Klonowa. Mom cannot get over it, Julek non plus, and there is no question of me. Naturally, I had to proudre de l’offensive and tried to say that the departure was very necessary. I had no arguments of my own, besides, I refuted them in my mind. And later, when Mom left, I started crying terribly, just like I had in Klonowa. I felt so sorry for this village that I only just felt what it means to love something or someone. I became so visibly aware of love that I completely, completely understand what it means to go crazy, bite, kick, get furious with emotion. So now I ask what to do when you know that the situation is bad? The first step, by its very nature, is to improve it. And how can it be improved here? Even if there is a good deal, will my mother reconcile herself to this life? Let's assume so. But where can I get this deal? Times are terrible. I am now giving half my life for the end of this terrible murry (?), when I read the telegrams, my hair stands on end, I want to shout "people, what are you doing". And now this terrible influence on business... If this war were to finally end and business improved, maybe the sun would come to our ends! Because otherwise my whole stay here seems like a monstrosity. Sometimes I only console myself that other people have misfortunes, but what does that mean... you won't be satisfied.

The wind was so strong tonight and it reminded me so much of Klonowa...

Monday, October 16, 1905

This morning, Mom sent me to the Bank again. I had a feeling right away that I would meet Kazcio H., although the hour was very early. As luck would have it, Mom forgot to sign the check and I had to walk for the second time. When I was returning home after taking care of the formalities, someone bowed to me on the corner of Piotrkowska Street. I looked: Horowicz. I looked back at him: he was walking slowly and looked into the Szaske window. I walked on, indifferent, when suddenly – he was next to me, happy, cheerful. A cheerful but very ordinary conversation naturally began. When we stopped at the corner of Piotrkowska Street, he looked at me in surprise. I understood and replied: I'm going home. I could see that this irritated him: how is that? I don't want to prolong the conversation, I'm choosing the shortest route home and I don't even think about taking a walk? Such indifference seemed to him simply astonishing. I had not made any such shocking remark during the conversation (?), on the contrary, he must have recognized that I was both intelligent and well-read, so his interest in me increased even more. Among other things, I made the following comparison: it is as indifferent to me as, let's say, going out to Piotrkowska and meeting people is to you.

- How do you know that I do not care who I meet? On the contrary, I go out deliberately to meet someone. (More people who make arrangements would add to themselves: "you drink to me").

- And if it is not indifferent to you, then to me I continued in the most indifferent tone, because in fact I have not yet caught myself in this exchange of words. And I felt that he was calculating it well in his brain.

At parting, I no longer remember what about it, he said something like this: "as someone trying to win your favor, I will trust myself to become the kind of person you want to see." I ignored it and as if it meant nothing, I continued to say whatever came to mind. When he left, he said that we probably wouldn't see each other again, so he said goodbye and wished me all the best. But it was an allusion to one part of our conversation: we were talking about the fine arts exhibition in Łódź. I admitted to him that I hadn't been there yet, but that I intended to before I left. He told me the same thing. Then there was a second of silence. The thought hung in the air: we'll go together, "duch keiner wollt es dem andern gestehn".

And then it stopped. So when he said "we won't see each other again" when he said goodbye, he meant the exhibition... but I didn't feel like saying it. Why? I don't know.

Today's conversation gave me a pretty clear picture of our relationship. I think I understand his intentions towards me quite well. He, supposedly, hasn't touched a woman yet. At least that's what his friends say. He himself told me that he would fall in love and get married once, even if he still had to study for a few more years. In me, he found a girl with whom he could talk better than with his other friends. This encouraged him to come over again and again. With each conversation, his opinion of me keeps improving. If my appearance had once offended him, now, when I treat him a bit too condescendingly, that consideration has almost disappeared. He also calculates that when I take 2,000 rubles to the bank, my parents must be rich. He also knows that I have contacts in Łódź, so it seems to him that he can dismiss certain dreams in the classic charm of his future wife and can sacrifice himself for me. My trip to Krakow is very convenient for him, because he will probably ask "the heart of his heart" about his opinion of me. As soon as he approves his choice, Mr. Kazimierz's postcards, which he promised to send me, will become more and more tender, well... and then the finale, as everyone knows, comes.

I have always liked Horowicz and I like him, but when I so clearly picture the whole course of his actions, then I begin to feel a not at all weak disgust for him. If there is a break of several months between the first meeting and the proposal, then both parties have time to see all their rods and lures so clearly that they can become disgusted with each other. If, on the other hand, there is also any stretch of time between the proposal and the wedding, then both parties have time to visualize such images before their eyes that half of the mutual charm is lost. Love should be served hot.

So despite the fact that I am beginning to feel a certain disgust for Horowicz, nothing in his presence offends me. On the contrary. And it seems to me that although it will be easy for me to attract him absolutely, he will probably never become my husband. And that is why I will not lift a finger, not a finger, to become a little nicer to him.

Tuesday, October 17, 1905

A short time separates me from leaving. Only, as I had expected, he received the news of it with complete indifference. Mama, on the other hand, is only now beginning her jeremiads, and I do not know whether it is because of her worry that something squeezes my heart every time I talk about leaving. It is as if I had a presentiment of something bad. In vain I summon all the strength of reason and reason that I should not stay any longer, because I will start paz force (?) to slip, that I cannot work at home by any means, that I am already at an age when one year plays a great role in life and cannot be wasted (wasted), despite this today and yesterday and the day before yesterday and in general for a long time now I have not been able to resist this impression. However, it seems to me that I feel Mama's worry immensely and I am only worried that Mama feels my future absence from home so strongly. 

Thursday, October 19, 1905

Contrary to my prediction, he left. I didn't meet him on the street, although I wanted to very much, I don't know why. Tonight I woke up for the first time in months and I kept thinking about him. When I woke up after falling asleep again, the first thought was about him. I got more angry at myself than I could have. I keep reproaching myself for how I could have bothered with him. I must not have a shred of ambition when I think of him. I am absolutely convinced that despite all his talk I am quite indifferent to him. The proof of which is the fact that he did not even send me flowers when I left. A similar fact on the part of the man probably speaks quite eloquently about his disposition towards me. After all, I see Julek sending flowers to Konówna, even anonymously, just so that she would have them. I recall this fact several times today, but I cannot resist a certain kind of longing... I really feel as if he is missing and now I understand a little the longing for the object of my love, which I used to ridicule so much.

Saturday, October 20, 1905

Well, well – that was a downfall!

Yesterday I was completely out of my element. I am not talking about Thursday in the evening, when I sat like a mummy and could not get a word out of me. Mom asked me twice what had happened to me. Yesterday I was better, but I walked along the street with a strange feeling: somehow it was empty, but I looked ahead confidently, because I knew he was gone. Tonight I woke up again and thought about him again, but I restrained myself so much that I put him out of my mind and went out into the street as calmly as possible to do some shopping. When I approached Zielki, I saw a man who looked strikingly like him. It turned out to be him. I deliberately stayed at Zielki's as long as possible so as not to meet him and I was very happy when I didn't meet him yet. Suddenly he comes towards me. He must have done it deliberately so as to get to me. I noticed immediately and made an inaccessible face. But he didn't pay any attention to it and came as if he had the right to. I was really angry because I don't want me and his people to be talked about, but eventually we started talking. We met and went together for a long way, and finally this man told me that he was leaving on the same train as me on Monday morning. And yesterday I was already expecting a card from him from Kalisz! And by the way, based on the fact that he somehow didn't say goodbye with any visible sign, I had flashes of a premonition that I would see him again before he left.

Kreuzburg[1]  Wednesday, October 25, 1905

I have more than an hour at this station, so I take the opportunity to note down a few details of the journey. In Kalisz[2]  I had a run-in with Gucia[3]  because of the card. In the end some Reins got me through safely. I also admired the zeal with which they did us a favor. How interested they were in us, although it was the first time they had ever dealt with us. However, there is nothing more pleasant than giving and receiving such favors. At least one feels one's connection with humanity.

Gucia, on the other hand, treated me less critically, because she was right. She lost a whole 5 rubles because of us. And I didn't even emphasize that we had contributed to this loss, which clearly angered her terribly. In the end, I said goodbye to them all quite warmly. Olga Füchs (?) made an extremely pleasant impression on me. I was simply grateful to her for her calm and tactful attitude towards all of us. Yesterday after dinner I went to Kępno[4] . I found Raphael at the station. I was terrified at first by the sight of him, because he was already too unexpected. He had changed superficially for the worse. Now, next to me, he looks like a Berliner Szusfujmiga. I treated him indifferently, although I was slightly angry that it was mutual on his part. Last night he kind of gave himself away. He took out my photograph, which he had stolen from Aunt Gucia, and stuck it on a cardboard from some [????????] photographer. He carried it in his pocketbook. So you know that I was not indifferent to him once, but now!

The girls in Kępno haven't changed at all. I am reminded of the title of some Russian novel: "обрегепые на гибель". What are they capable of doing in the world? Bogna is still like Bogna, but both of them are older? How terribly sorry I am. They deserve to be better off in the world than they actually are. I said goodbye to them today with a certain pang of conscience. I am ultimately selfish and I simply don't want to listen to the same complaints about fate for 4 years. Involuntarily, I feel a certain kind of contempt and pity for them, so that access to some kind of altruistic feeling is inaccessible to me.

My journey [???] took exactly twice as long (if not more) than I thought. If my calculations continue like this, then my mother was right when she said that I was going without knowing what, where and how. I have a head [?????] in general. My passport was taken away by Locia, a nightjacket from Kalisz, one of them, who on [????] so that to get it I have to write to Berlin, Paris or Bern. [?????] worldly means a piece of underwear. Finally [???] [?] in addition I told Locia to send the passports by Poste restante Kraków "Registered" and I won't be able to take it out without the IDs, which I don't have with me. But these are trifles that probably happen to every novice. I just want to rent a room today and have enough money at least until the end of November. That's the main thing. The rest, I guess, will be fine somehow.

Notes:

[1] Now Kluczbork—“ It is the capital of Kluczbork County and an important railroad junction. In Kluczbork the major rail line from Katowice splits into two directions – westwards to Wrocław and northwards to Poznań. It is also connected with Fosowskie.”

 [2] Kalisz is a city just before Skalmierzyce, where yesterday’s entry was noted as from.

 [2] Presumably, her aunt Augusta Friedmann nee Lubliner.  Her children were born in Kepno.

 [4] City in Poland. Suggests that her aunt didn’t live directly in the city.

Krakow[1] Friday, October 27, 1905 

I want to write because I think that in this way I will calm down a bit. I am in a terrible state of nervousness.

I arrived in Krakow on Wednesday at 2:43. I went straight to Berkówna. However, it turned out that I had been given a false address. My situation was critical, because I had no one in Krakow and I had no other address. Fortunately, I remembered that at Poniatowska No. 6 there lived some medical woman, I did not know her name. I managed to find her and we went to rent an apartment. At 7 p.m. we barely found a room, for now it may be too expensive for me, but I had no choice. I live with some Jewish family - she and he are below any criticism. Typical roommates and clerks. Ugh! I do not know how I will manage to get along with them. The first day I went to bed with a terrible feeling of abandonment. I was incredibly nervous. I was shaking all over. In bed, despite being tired, I couldn't fall asleep and woke up several times at night with an incredibly heavy feeling. Yesterday I went to university. I didn't have anyone I knew. An impossible emptiness took over me again. I took care of everything I could and went home to write a few words, because I want to receive from some soul. I will cross out a few of the most miserable words. I thought about Horowicz yesterday. I am now convinced of what a moment means. Whatever he asked me yesterday, I would have answered with a warm heart: yes, yes. I was fully aware of this, and yet if I had seen him I would have thrown myself around his neck with joy. After dinner (fried eggs and a glass of tea) Berkówna came to me. She calmed me down a bit and somehow I went to bed in a better mood. This morning I got up with my worries. Above all, I have heavy pangs of conscience for abandoning my parents. I imagine how worried Mom is and I am overcome with despair at the thought. I know that she is worried about how I am coping here, I know that she will not believe me when I write: I am doing well and that is why I am grieving why to cause myself and her worry if it is not urgently needed. Because do I know whether my departure was so necessary, so irrevocable? To go for a hit - not in my theory and now I am convinced that I was right. It may be that this departure will have a significant and positive meaning for me - that all these are just beginnings. After all, Fuksówna, although she had her existence secured and a desire to educate herself no less than I did, after a 4-day stay in Brussels, where she did not know anyone, burst into tears and begged her mother to send her to Switzerland. My nervousness is therefore perhaps completely natural, especially since I still have to take care of my own existence. If Mom sent me 25 rubles it would be good, she would probably even do it, but I know very well how difficult it will be for her. And so from that side I have pangs of conscience. On top of all this I am also worried about what [?any] are doing at home. Although I have read that things are quiet at Jadzia's, even though there is a strike, and I would really like my city to remain only a spectator for now. It has already paid dearly for its movement. So my head is full for now. I keep reminding myself that I should write, but with such anxiety I guess nothing can be done. I have to meet someone as soon as possible, because otherwise I can probably go crazy. The woman had no problem...

Notes:

[1] This is where her (somewhat autobiographical) novel Die Studentin starts.