Monday 17 November 2014

Permutations on Lamps and The People Who Owned Them (II)

I caught a cold, a snot-rattling, throat-rasping, eye-watering, croaking-voiced cold.

Fräulein Optenberg was certain the cold would be gone by the day of the concert. All would be well. I begged to differ. The cold was the perfect excuse for backing out. What teacher didn’t know was that I had long had cold feet and the nearer the day came the more terrified I became. "No, Miss, I am certain the cold won't be gone in time and please excuse me from going on stage”.

Snivelling little idiot.

Frl. Optenberg was frantic. I hadn’t ever heard the phrase ‘The Show Must Go On’; Miss begged, cajoled, implored. I sneezed pitifully, then I had an idea. If it meant that much to her I’d get her a replacement. I’d get her Klara. Klara was plump, small, stupid and in possession of a much healthier, more powerful voice than my lung-sick one. Klara jumped at the chance and was so abjectly grateful that I began to doubt the wisdom of my abdication. Aladdin’s cave was no longer mine for half an hour twice a week.

My cold evaporated, the day of the Christmas concert came and Klara was a great success. Neither Mum, Dad or I were in the audience.

This was the beginning of a lifetime of doubt in my own abilities.

Then came Middle School; I passed the entrance exam with flying colours and was granted a scholarship. There were school fees which my parents couldn’t afford, ends were barely meeting. Still pig-tailed, tall and very skinny and ten years old I joined children from varying backgrounds, some already well-off, particularly the children of farmers and professional people, and some from poor backgrounds like mine, on scholarships. We scholarship kids were the bright ones, the kids from the farms the least able. (That’s not prejudice, that’s how it was. After the war many farmers were rich, had their girls been bright enough they would have gone to Grammar School, where the fees were higher.)

Herr Thomanek was my form master. I adored him and he seemed to enjoy teaching me. For three years all went well. When kids from professional households made fun of my pronunciation of foreign words he shut them up and patiently explained where these words came from and how to pronounce them. Herr Thomanek was my favourite master and I had a bit of a crush on him, as a thirteen year old  might.

When from one day to the next he turned on me I was devastated. Open-mouthed incredulity met every unkindness, every jibe at my expense, every shouted term of abuse. It’s no exaggeration to say that my form master bullied me unmercifully. He focussed the attention of the whole class on me. “There she goes, sneering again. That cynical grin of hers, look at it. What makes you so superior, I would like to know." Once I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I got up from my seat, howling in fear and frustration, making for the door. “Look at her, look how she runs and howls; exactly like one of the Furies.” I went home and finally told my Mum.

That same afternoon Mum grabbed me and we went to Herr Thomanek’s house. His wife came to the door and said we couldn’t come in, they were about to have their evening meal. Mum insisted. For once she believed me without looking for confirmation elsewhere and she was going to get the truth out of him there and then.

We were let into the sitting room. I was probably too distraught to take in details, but I instantly saw an old fashioned roll top desk in an alcove, with lots of papers on the open flap and a lit desk lamp on the shelf above. Otherwise the room was in shadow. Herr Thomanek turned towards us as we entered, his face, illuminated by the lamp, a study in angry discomfort.




to be continued


25 comments:

  1. You've certainly left us with one helluva cliffhanger here, and you've put in high relief something I think a lot of us have experienced, but have buried down deep: a teacher turning on a student as Thomanek does here.

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  2. I can remember teachers who had a mean streak and picked on kids. None as wicked as this though. I'm sorry you endured that as a child. I can't imagine how deeply that would affect you.

    You do build suspense like no other. Waiting (not so) patiently for part three.

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  3. You certainly know how to "always leave them wanting more"! :-)

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  4. Oh drat. We have to wait. I hate waiting.

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  5. My French teacher hated me. The feeling was mutual.

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  6. and...and? Good for your mum though, however it turns out.

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  7. How awful! What a bad memory to carry. I feel like a helpless 13 year-old reading this. Your mother was courageous. But obviously you did get a thorough education because you can now write like this.

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  8. Thankfully, I never had a teacher who really picked on me, although I certainly did not get along very well with some of them. It must be very confusing if from one moment to the next, a teacher's mood and behaviour towards a student change so completely. I really wonder what caused it.

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  9. Hi Friko - well you've certainly taken us there ... I didn't have an easy schooling either for a variety of reasons .. so can feel your feelings - but I certainly didn't have the ability to pick up the nuances of the room and its decor .. the roll-top with its desk lamp ... shadows ... angry discomfort ... I await part III - cheers Hilary

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  10. Holy Crap Friko, pardon my word, but jumpins I feel I know what the next installment is. I am going to bite my tongue but I am hoping I am right. You really left us anxious for the next episode. I love this, just love it.

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  11. You are very good at leading up to the moment. That's a rare writing quality! Have a super day Friko :)

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  12. Well? I can hardly wait to find out what he had to say. You have left me wanting more, which is the sign of a good writer. I think I know why, but I will wait to find out.

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  13. How can you do this to us, Friko? To be left hanging like this... Wonderful writing and story-telling.

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  14. You've got us all on the edge of our seats .... love this unfolding story.

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  15. Although we lived not that far from each other at this time and it was for both of us just after the war, it seems to me that life in Bonn was easier maybe because it was the capital. I can't wait to read the rest of your story ! I have always hated school and all teachers from the very first one when I was 7 ! They were not very kind especially not to the weak and vulnerable once !

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  16. Oh, my....I'll be back for the next installment.

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  17. Unforgivable behaviour from a teacher .

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  18. Sad you were so fearful you missed your big chance to become a star. On the other hand, the bulling you received did not help you later on. I was fortunate, excepting one teacher, my teachers either loved me or ignored me. Its hard to be a cerebral sort when the teachers/bosses are not.

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  19. I am catching up on posts and see I've missed part one. But this is gripping. I can relate to much of this. But oh, the hurt, being turned upon by a favorite teacher. I'm hoping you will find some sort of reason and share it with us in part three.

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  20. Oh my, I am in such suspense! But what happened to turn him on you? That's so unfair, so crushing to a child's spirit… I have had it happen to me more than once. I attended a one room church school attached to our church for all of the grades until I started high school. The teachers there treated me kindly at first, because of my natural charm, but later they turned on me and treated me terribly as a means to "get back" at my family and a feud the adults were having amongst themselves. I was terribly hurt and confused, and I know that it left a permanent mark on my heart. Poor child Friko. But what happens next?!?!?!

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  21. Well Friko, I am back from my travels, and still a bit under the fog of jet lag. Still catching up on what my friends have been written while I was away.

    I have learned that autumn is yielding to winter where you as it is here. Your version is more graceful and beautiful.

    I learn about lamps being a key ingredient into a child's getting of knowledge. I am reminded of what a fine writer you are, dear Friko.

    xo

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  22. Right down to the description of your hair and howling, I felt in the room with you as Herr T unleashed. It's taken me back to the worst moments of bullying from my own youth, in fact.

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  23. Clearly, I have exhibited great good sense in saving these three pieces for reading together. Onward I go!

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  24. You have me hooked. I can't wait to read what happened with this mean teacher. I'm sorry you had to suffer this. I'm also grateful your mum believed you.

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