draught rushing into the house from all sides, he said, but naturally I could not do anything against the parental commands, I aIways meticulously executed all parental commands, I would never have dared not to execute a parental command, no matter whether it was a maternal or a paternal command, I automatically executed my parental command meticulously, Reger said, because I wished to escape parental punishment and that parental punishment was always dreadful and cruel, I feared parental torture and so I naturally always executed all parental commands meticulously, he said, no matter what the command was, even when in my opinion it was the most nonsensical of commands, it was therefore a matter of course that I opened all the windows on that birthday of my father and let the draught blow into the house. Our mother celebrated all our birthdays, not a single one of our birthdays was not celebrated, I hated those birthday celebrations, as you may imagine, just as I hate any celebrations, I hate anything festive, anything solemn to this day, nothing is more distasteful to me than celebrating or being celebrated, I am a hater of festivities, he said, from childhood I have hated all feasting and celebrating and above all I have hated birthday celebrations, no matter what birthday it was, and most of all I hated a parental birthday being celebrated; how can a person celebrate a birthday, his birthday, I have always wondered, when it is a misfortune to be in this world at all; yes, I always thought if people were to observe a memorial hour on their birthday, a memorial hour for the monstrous deed their progenitors had committed against them, that I would understand, but surely not a festivity, he said. And our father's birthdays were celebrated with all kinds of revolting pomp, all sorts of people I hated were invariably invited, and there was a lot of eating and drinking, and the most detestable thing of course were the speeches addressed to the person celebrated and the presents given to the person celebrated. Surely there is nothing more false than these birthday celebrations to which people lend themselves, nothing more distasteful than those birthday lies and those birthday hypocrisies, he said. It was in fact on our father's fifty-ninth birthday that my sister died, Reger said. I was standing in a corner on the first floor and, while trying to shield myself against the cold draught of air, was watching my mother rushing about the place with birthday-hysterical rapidity, at one moment transporting a vase from one room to another, at another switching a sugar bowl from one table to another table, one doily this way, another doily another way, a book to one place, another book to another place, a bunch of flowers over here, another over there, when suddenly, coming from downstairs, from the ground floor, I heard a dull thud, Reger said. My mother had stopped, because she too had heard the dull thud from downstairs. My mother stood still on the spot and her face had turned pale, Reger said. Something terrible had happened, that was instantly obvious to me as it was to my mother. I went down from the first floor to the vestibule and found my sister lying dead in the vestibule. Ah yes, Reger said, instant heart failure is an enviable death. If only we ourselves had such an instant heart failure one day, that would be the greatest happiness, he said. We hope for a swift painless death and yet we can drift into prolonged, year-long lingering illness, Reger said yesterday, adding that it was a consolation to him that his wife did not suffer long, not for years as sometimes happens, he said, only a few weeks. But of course there is no consolation for the loss of the one person who, all one's life, has been the closest to you. One method, he said yesterday, while I was now, that is a day later, observing him from the side, with Irrsigler behind him who had for one moment looked into the Sebastiano Room without taking any notice of me, while I was therefore still observing Reger who was still observing Tintoretto's White-Bearded Man, one method, he said, is to turn everything into a caricature. We can only stand a great, important picture if we have turned it into a caricature, or a great man, a so-called important personality, neither can we bear a person as a great man or as an important personality, he said, we have to caricature him. When we observe a picture for any length of time, even the most serious picture, we have to turn it into a caricature in order to bear it, hence we must also turn our parents, our superiors, if we have any, into caricatures, and the whole world into a caricature, he said. Look upon one of Rembrandt's self-portraits for any length of time, no matter which of them, in time it will quite certainly turn into a caricature for you and you will turn away. Look for any length of time at your father's face and it will turn into a caricature for you and you will turn away from him. Read Kant intently and ever more intently and you will suddenly be seized by a fit of laughter, he said. Strictly speaking, every original is a forgery in itself, he said. You follow my meaning. Of course there are phenomena in the world, in nature, if you like, which we cannot make look ridiculous, but in art anything can be made to look ridiculous, any person can be made to look ridiculous, can be made into a caricature whenever we like, whenever we feel the need, he said. Provided we are in a position to make something look ridiculous. We are not always in that position, and then we are seized by despair and next by the devil, he said. No matter which work of art, it can be made to look ridiculous, he said, it seems to you great and yet from one moment to the next you make it seem ridiculous, just as a person whom you have to make to look ridiculous because you cannot do otherwise. But then most people