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Today we have two separate letters sent from Helene in Vienna to her children Eva and Harry. She has written “No. 40” on the top of each, meaning it’s the 40th letter (or pair of letters) she has sent to them since they left Vienna for San Francisco in October 1939.

 Vienna, 19 July 1940

My beloved child Eva! Your last letter from July 3 restored the balance of my soul again. 14 days I was without any news and I was walking around with my face looking like little Harry when he was in the theater for the first time and kept saying “My name is Ernst. I am Ernst, I want to remain Ernst for the entire day because I have lost the laugh” [pun: Ernst means “serious”]. I lost my laugh because I haven’t heard anything from Harry since the 10th of June and I did not even get the “surprise letter” from you. If Harry were in his familiar surroundings, it would be ridiculous to be so worried, but since I don’t know where he is hanging around, I am very disturbed by the lack of letters from him. From your letter which reached me the day before yesterday, I can see also that the previous letter from you did not arrive since you mention a topic only in passing with the remark that you would have mentioned it anyway. It was about the communication that you sometimes even after dinner can go out. I am happy about that and would like to know more about what you are doing, especially about the treatment. Your shyness has rather amused me, as did your transformation, my damaged little soul. If you had stayed here, you would be justified criticizing girls for whom taking advantage seems quite natural and has to do with their philosophy of life.  In America, this seems to be quite different - the poorest devil thinks that he should behave in a knightly fashion and take a lady out even if he cannot afford lunch the next day. It strikes me as kind of funny that I am here giving you a lecture about living in the United States when you are actually living there. I am only doing this based on my reading and on the tales that Bertha and Tillie tell. However, I did find it quite astonishing this custom that the woman would pay for the bill herself when the man is also there: no, that is my trip. Flowers, candy, even a book, you can accept that from a gentleman and that doesn’t commit you to anything.* That seems to be a Central European oddity that when you are paid for that you need to return the favor. I am feeling like I’m being rather pretentious to discuss this with you since you are someone who has traveled much further than I have, and really I could learn a lot from you. So there it is, I am more curious than I was when I was younger. Does Harry write to you? What is Paul doing and have you heard from little Robert? There is not much to tell from our end of things. If it is not pouring at 5 o’clock, I’ll pick up Papa, and then we go to run errands or decide to go get an ice cream or we watch the weekly news in a movie theater where we perhaps see a little bit of California, Texas, or Pennsylvania. Through your letters we are sometimes reminded of the Prater and the prairies seem closer than the Hauptallee. Since The Cohens don’t get to go to the Prater, the Prater has to come to the Cohens. And it does. Not really that the Ferris wheel comes shaking towards us or that the elevated way finds its way to Seidlegasse, no, but the flea circus didn’t visit us either. But the mosquitoes did. [quotes a song about nasty beasts going for naked knees] But they make concessions for me since I don’t have my knees naked in bed. They decorate my arms, neck and nape with a very artistic but painful design as if on a quilt. Is it because these sweet little things don’t dare touch Papa perhaps since he has the original quilt all the way up to his chin, or the smell of his self-invented hair cream? If I were this mosquito, I would prefer silver Roman coins. When he saw my beautifully decorated skin, Papa was very sympathetic and showered me with sweet attention and hot tea at breakfast. It’s so unusual for him he’s not used to being so sweet to ladies in order to win over their hearts. Jo knows all about that because he throws her out all the time. By the way, Jo did not receive your most recent letter She says hello to you and also to Alf. If you know his address, please send him a card and send her greetings on to him. So my sweet golden child, please write me in detail and often because we have to realize that not all letters arrive and therefore we have these nerve wracking pauses in our communication which really drive us crazy; they rob us of our last shred of sanity. If old Galotti had known me his statement that “he has no one to lose” would have been even more justified. I should stop now says my paper and I will obey. My most sincere kisses.

Mutti

*I preached this to you at the time.

As in letters we saw earlier in the year (see January 24 and February 5 posts), Helene tries to give motherly advice, even from afar. The distance is vast — both in miles and between the old and new worlds. It must have been heartbreaking to “watch” her children grow up without her and know how much she has missed.

Helene’s quotation is from Gotthold Lessing’s 1772 play Emilia Galotti:

Wer über gewisse Dinge seinen Verstand nicht verlieret, der hat keinen zu verlieren!
Whoever doesn't lose his mind about certain things has none to lose!

According to Wikipedia, Goethe referred to the play in his 1774 novel The Sorrows of Young Werther. I don’t know whether the play was produced in early 20th century Vienna, but she would have encountered it when reading Goethe!

 Vienna, 19 July 1940

Harry, Harry, have you completely forgotten your mother? Why don’t you write? For God’s sake it can’t be that all your letters have gotten lost. Or can it be from all that driving around chauffeuring that you are not physically able to write? I am just so happy I received a report from little Everl yesterday but since she does write as she should, the interval is not so great even when every now and then one of her letters doesn’t arrive. Paul has apparently already forgotten what it’s like when one is waiting for mail. He is a person who always busy even when he has nothing to do. Tillie doesn’t answer any of my letters and that really bothers me. What’s the matter? Papa sends me to the door 10 times with his “Hey, doorbell’s ringing.” And I run to the door relying on his hearing which is better than mine to see if there might be a letter from you even though I know that at this time of day mail is never delivered. There are so many amazing wonders that one experiences - why shouldn’t a letter from you arrive at a wonderful time? Meals are the best time for celebrating reminiscences and thinking about you. We were in fact just at table for a meal in the greatest of moods. When I’m spreading butter on my bread, Vitali says “your son would have been able to use that much butter on 14 pieces of bread” (14! think of it). And if I put sugar in my tea he says “you eat too much, you’re getting too fat. Why don’t you use your daughter as an example?” And with such sentimental jokes, we pass the time and breakfast. There was an amusing intermezzo a few days ago in our store. A man asked for a globe. Papa hands him one and the customer turns it around in his hand a few times. Papa says “well, don’t look for the Danube, they don’t really have that much detail on these things.” The man takes the pencil sharpener, pays for it and goes away. After a while he came back. Papa thought maybe he wanted to return this huge purchase. He came in said hello and grinned. He said “OK, OK.” The customer laughed and Papa echoed his “hoho”. But then Papa decided, although he usually doesn’t worry about the mood his customers are in, that he wanted to know why this guy was so cheerful. And the man said “Well now I can say I have the whole world in my pocket!” Papa was happy when the man closed the door behind him. We still have plenty of pencil sharpeners, which have pictures of various things on them. Who knows what they might inspire our customers to do. Anyway, we had a good laugh over this strange hermit of a fellow.

It’s late now and I must think about getting lunch together. I’ll write in more detail next time. I just ask you to please write soon and repeat what you said in the letters that have probably gotten lost. The last letter we had from you is dated 10 June.

I hug you most eternally,

Mutti

Helene and Vitali are hungry for both news and food. Helene probably could never have received enough news from her family, but in reality she wasn’t receiving all of the letters that had been sent, and there was often a long time lag between the sending and receiving. They had little money to pay for whatever food was available in the markets. So they made light of their meager meals and imagine they were eating rare delecacies (see January 29 post). It’s hard to imagine how they survived on what little income that came in from selling stationery supplies and repairing fountain pens. No wonder Vitali began his metaphysical career in the back of the store. If you do a search for “globe pencil sharpeners 1930s German” you can see the type of item mentioned.