My Life and My Efforts Part 13

"The note I published in the Heimgarten is based on the judicial hearing in Charlottenburg, and as soon as, once again, a court will decide in your favour, I will, with great pleasure, take note of this.

"As a colleague, your case does concern me personally, and being your colleague, I also would like to take the liberty to give you my opinion on what would be the best manner for you to refute these allegations.

"In your place, I would ignore all the polemics which do not refer to the accusations in a factual manner. What you have confessed yourself from the time of your youth, should thereby be also taken care of, and hardly any person with a legal mind would still hold this against you, unless the court does so. That your travel accounts are not based on personal experiences, that they are just stories told in the first person, this also cannot be regarded as an objectionable act on your part by any man of literature. Thus, the only thing that is left is to finally come forward with the factual proof that those frequently mentioned obscene pa.s.sages were not written by you, but edited in by the publisher. As far the plagiarisms are concerned, you have been accused of, experts ought to be able to decide to which extent these might be plagiarisms or to which extent they are only rewritten subject matters and thoughts. Based on the first editions, comparing them with the new editions, it ought to be possible to determine, whether the manner, the train of thought, and the style of the newly added sentences organically fit with your style and the book or not. I think, you should now concentrate all of your defence to such realities and push incessantly for these things to be finally decided in court. All other articles written by your friends, who are just talking in general about your works'

outstanding qualities, which are by no means disputed, could not possibly have any special effect on this embarra.s.sing affair as such.

"So, set all means in motion to arrive at a vindication in court.

Should this be unsuccessful, absolute silence will be the best course of action, and should this be successful, even that part of the press which supports your presents opponents will also have to accept the court's exoneration and spread the word among the people.

"Sickness has delayed this letter. Forgive this openness, which comes from honest benevolence, and let me greet you

"yours truly Peter Rosegger."

Krieglach, 7/2/1910.

That Peter Rosegger, the distinguished, sensitive, and humanely thinking aristocrat of the mind, regards what he has mentioned concerning my youth as finished and done away with, goes without saying. Only lowly developed persons can wade through such dregs and residues. I myself have also, a long time ago, erased this chapter of my life, and thus I have to judge everyone who talks or writes about me by the same standards which I here find in Rosegger's letter. He who does not forgive, will not be forgiven either; this is the just law of heaven and of earth.

As far as the "obscenities" are concerned as well as the proof that they were not written by me, I will have to discuss this subject in the next chapter, but let me make one remark, which I deem necessary, right here and now. This is that I am not the one who has to prove that these indecent pa.s.sages were not written by me, but rather they will have to prove to me that I am the author.

This is just as self-evident as it is correct. No judge of our times would even consider dragging me back to the times of thumb-screws and the "Spanish maiden", when the accusor was not required to prove anything, but the accused was the one who had to prove his innocence. This simply had to be impossible in most cases. For strategic reasons in the course of a lawsuit, I have been falsely accused of having written the "Book of Love" for Munchmeyer. How can I prove that this is untrue? Let's suppose Munchmeyer's lawyer had come up with the insane idea to a.s.sert in court that Peter Rosegger had written the notorious "Temple of Venus". Would Rosegger supply the proof that this was a lie? Or would he say that the truth of this a.s.sertion would have to proven to him? I am convinced, he would do the latter. And I do so as well. I demand that my original ma.n.u.scripts are brought in as evidence. There can be no other proof.

As far as the acts of plagiarism are concerned, Peter Rosegger had mentioned, the situation is like this: The Benedictine monk Father Pollmann has written a series of articles against me and my works, starting with the threat that out of my works he would construct a figurative noose around my neck, to "whip me out of the temple of German art". Here, he has employed the right metaphor, for every one of his allegations, he afterwards cast upon me, was nothing but a snap of a whip, harsh, sharp, tough, loveless, and s.a.d.i.s.tic, therefore outraging the readers, and the echoes of its snap faded away without effect. It was also such an empty crack of a boy's whip, when he accused me of plagiarism and unsuccessfully made every effort in proving the truthfulness of his allegation. There, he talked like an ignorant man and could therefore achieve nothing but the well known effects of ignorance.

The newspaper called "Grazer Tagespost" wrote about this:

"Father Pollmann, a well known gentleman, who has just lately, with genuinely Christian humility, awarded himself the decorative cognomen of a 'respected critic', has very quickly forgotten the moral defeat which he had suffered in his battle of name-calling against the travelling author Karl May, because recently he again put his foot in his mouth etc. etc."

The thing was that in some of my very first and oldest traveller's tales, which I wrote when I did not possess the necessary experience yet, I let the events I described take place before a geographical background which I took from well known, readily accessible books. This is not just allowed, it even happens quite frequently. To adapt descriptions of places for one's own needs, can never be a theft. A literary theft, plagiarism this is, is only committed when essential components of another author's mental creation are copied and then used in a manner which makes them an essential component of the plagiarist's work and thereby the impression is created that they were his own thoughts. But I have never done something like this and I also never will. Works of geography, especially when the information contained has become common knowledge, can be used without thinking of it twice, as long as no entire printed sheets or sequences of pages are copied identically and the second author's work, in spite of the copied parts, forms an independent mental achievement. In the introduction to Voigtlander's book on "Authors.h.i.+p and Publis.h.i.+ng Law" it reads:

"No person creates the world of his thoughts solely by himself.

He constructs it on top of what others have invented, said, and written before him or together with him. Only then at best, his very own creation begins. Even the most creative of all activities, the one of a poet, ranks highest, achieves the greatest success, when it consecrates with an artistic form those ideas, which along with the poet, are also thought and felt by his entire people. And not even the form is entirely the poet's property, because the form is supplied by the refined language, "which creates literature and thinks for you", and which has given to many a man who thinks himself to be a poet more than the form, but also thoughts or the appearance of thoughts. To put it brief, writers and artists are with their knowledge and abilities in the midst and on the top of the cultural achievements of many millennia. If Goethe had grown up on a lonely island, he would not have become Goethe. But once someone has been granted such a gifted spirit, that he has been able to advance the cultural achievements of mankind by one step, because he has been allowed to continue the ancestors' work, then it is just right _that_his_ _work_in_turn_shall_in_due_time_be_made_available_for_others,_to_ _use_it_freely,_not_just_its_contents,_but_also_its_form."_

This is what the publisher of the law says, and there is no cause to dispute what he says. I, not even having committed what he explicitly permits, am thereby perfectly vindicated. Someone else wrote: "Everything is more or less plagiarism committed against achievement of culture, the mind, or the imagination. The intellectual upper cla.s.s, those who possess education and culture to a higher degree, will always, more or less, feed on _one_ reservoir which has been filled by the achievements of other, earlier, greater minds."

In issue no. 268 of the "Feder"

, the magazine for authors and journalists, coming out two times per month, it says: "Since it is impossible for author of popularised scientific articles to make something up, everyone has to be also a plagiarist to a certain degree. If the main part of the related thoughts are new, one might very well be justified in using suitable ornaments from already existing works. According to Emerson, _the_greatest_ _genius_is_at_the_same_time_also_the_greatest_borrower._ Here, all depends on how it is done. _You_may_take_what_is_good_wherever_ _you_find_it,_ if you want to achieve great purpose with it; but you must not let it show; something truly new has to be produced from the borrowed material."

It is a well known fact that Maeterlinck [a] had simply copied in one of his plays three scenes from Paul Heyse. Heyse protested; but Maeterlinck laughed at him and just had the play published under his name. It is just as well known that the popular song from "Der Freischutz" ent.i.tled "Wir winden dir den Jungfernkranz"

was not written by Weber, but an almost entirely unknown chief conductor from Gotha. Weber heard it and used it in his "Freischutz", without caring about the danger of being described as a plagiarist and a thief. It is generally accepted that Shakespeare was the greatest literary thief we know. If the principles of Father Pollmann would be applied, even various authors of biblical books would have to be called literary thieves. I could continue listing an even greater number of examples, but want to limit myself to citing Goethe, our very greatest cla.s.sic, and Alexander Dumas, the most successful novelist of the modern age. Dumas borrowed extraordinary much.

He could not exist without outside help and exceeded in this very far beyond what is permissible in literature. For instance, it is known that he has exploited the tale of the "Gold Bug" by Edgar Poe, to create some of the most exciting pa.s.sages of his "Count of Monte Christo". And as far as Goethe is concerned, I will quote from a short article, which was recently published in several newspapers under the t.i.tle "Goethe on plagiarism":

[a] In 1908, Maurice Maeterlinck (1862-1949, n.o.bel Prize 1911) had turned to Paul Heyse (1830-1914, n.o.bel Prize 1910) via his German translator Friedrich von Oppeln-Bronikowski (1873-1936) to ask for his permission to use two ideas from Heyse's play "Mary of Magdala" in his own play on the same topic in exchange for a share in the royalties. Heyse was outraged and harshly rejected this offer. Maeterlinck nevertheless used Heyse's ideas, but in a manner which did not const.i.tute plagiarism and openly pointed this out in an appendix to the German edition of his play. Heyse complained in an article and von Oppeln-Bronikowski answered by publis.h.i.+ng the letters which had been exchanged between them and referred to an expertise, attesting that this was not a case of plagiarism. In 1911, a letter by von Oppeln-Bronikowski was published in a magazine, denouncing Karl May's version as an audacious lie.

"Nowadays, it is very easy to be regarded as a plagiarist. An author only has to fail to quote the source from which he has taken one or another pa.s.sage, may it be intentionally or unintentionally. Everyone has such a dear friend, who will, after having been so fortunate to discover the plagiarist, publicly denounce him. Richard von Kralik has recently been accused of plagiarism, because he was - with out any guilt on his part - quoted incorrectly. We want to remind those who enjoy sniffing out plagiarism of Goethe's view on plagiarism. The subject of his conversation with Eckermann on January the 18th, 1825, were Lord Byron's supposed plagiarisms. See 'Eckermanns Gesprache mit Goethe' , 3rd edition, volume I, page 133. There, Goethe said: 'Byron also does not know how to defend himself against such simple-minded attacks, directed against himself by his own nation; he should have spoken out more forcefully against them. _Whatever_is_there,_this_is_ _mine,_ he should have said. _Whether_I_have_taken_it_from_real_ _life_or_from_a_book,_this_is_all_the_same;__the_only_thing_which_ _mattered_was_that_I_used_it_properly!_ Walter Scott needed a scene from my 'Egmont', and he had a right to take it, _and_ _because_it_was_done_in_an_intelligent_manner,_he_is_to_be_ _praised._ Thus, he has also recreated my character of 'Mignon' in one of his novels, but whether he has done it with just as much wisdom, is a different question. Lord Byron's 'transformed devil'

is an extended Mephistopheles, and this is right so. If he had wanted to avoid the similarity on an original whim, he would have had to achieve a worse result. Thus, my Mephistopheles sings a song written by Shakespeare, and why should he not do so? Why should I take the trouble of inventing a song of my own, while Shakespeare's was just right and said just what it was supposed to? Therefore, when the beginning of my 'Faust' has some similarity with the one found in the book of 'Job', this is again just right so, and I am rather to be praised than to be scolded for that.'"

This shall be the end of this short selection of famous names as references. What have out most famous authors done without having suffered such verbal abuse? And what have I done to be treated like the lowest of all cheaters and thieves? I have, without thinking much of it, decorated some of my small, Asian tales with entirely irrelevant geographical and ethnographical arabesques, which I found in books, which, for a long time, belong to the public. This is permissable. This is even my right. But what does Father Pollmann say to this? He resorts to public name-calling, saying I was a _"pirate_in_the_field_of_literature,_ _for_all_eternity_the_prime_example_of_a_literary_thief!"_ Emerson, one of the most famous and most n.o.ble men of America, says: "The greatest genius is at the same time also the greatest borrower." And Goethe says: "Whatever is there, this is mine.

Whether I have taken it from real life or from a book, this is all the same!" How would Father Pollmann have to pa.s.s an a.n.a.logous judgement on these two champions? To him, they would have to be "for all eternity, the worst among all literary fiends", exuding the stench of greedy rapacity and moral corruption! A criticism which is thus ignorant, thus inexperienced, thus self-promoting, and thus exceeding all limits, as this one, const.i.tutes a danger not just to literature, but also to the entire people.

I have written my "traveller's tales" just the way I had originally planed to write them for the human soul, for the soul, and only for the soul. And only the soul alone, for which they have been written, shall read them, for it alone can understand and comprehend me. I do not pick up my pen for soulless readers.

An exemplary author, writing exemplary stories for exemplary readers is not what I am or I ever would want to be or become.

Once we will have reached this point that there are only exemplary authors, exemplary readers, and exemplary books, this will be the end! I am so bold to a.s.sert that we must not use the existing exemplary books, but rather the existing trash as examples, to model our own books after, if we wish to achieve what the true friends of the people seek to achieve. Let us not write like the boring ones, which are not read, let us rather write like the trashy authors, who know how to win a hundred thousands and millions of subscribers! But our topics shall be n.o.ble, as n.o.ble as our purposes and goals. Write for the great soul! Do not write for the tiny spirits, on whom your efforts will be waisted and dispersed, without them ever being grateful to you. Because however much effort you put into seeking their applause, they will still maintain that they were able to do it better, though they are not capable of anything at all! And do not write anything small, at least nothing earthly small. But rather raise your eyes up to how everything fits together on the big scale. Small things might also be found there, but behind and in these small things, the truly great thing live. And even if you should commit mistakes in the process, mistakes as many and as big as the ones Karl May has made, this will do no harm. It is better to occasionally stumble on the path which leads upwards and to finally reach the top regardless, than not to stumble on the path which leads downwards and to succ.u.mb to the depth. Or even to run round and round one's own equator, holding one's head up high and taking proud steps, always returning to oneself again and again, without having climbed over any higher ground. For mountains are what we must have, ideals, highly situated intermediate stops and final goals.

Perhaps, I have just too many ideals and goals and am therefore running the risk not to achieve a single one of them; but I do not fear that this might be so. I have already said what I want and what goals I am seeking; I do not need to repeat it. And I have already had to overcome so many steep heights, that I cannot possibly regard myself as one of those poor devils who never leave the plane of their own equator. There are some people who recommend my style as an example for others; there are different people who say that I had no style; and thirdly, there are people who maintain that did have a style, but that it was an extraordinarily bad one. The truth is that I do not pay any attention to my style at all. I write whatever comes from my soul, and I write it the way I hear it inside of me. I never change anything, and never improve anything. Thus, my style is my soul, and not my "style", but my soul shall talk to the readers.

I also do not employ any so-called artistic form. My literary garments have not been cut to size, sewn, or even ironed by any tailor. It is natural cloth. I wrap myself in it, drape it as I need it or according to the mood I am in when I write. Therefore, what I write has such a direct effect and not an effect which would be achieved by pretty outward appearances, which possess no internal value. I do not want to capture the reader, not grasp him externally, but rather I want to enter in his inner self, I want to access his soul, his heart, his emotions. There I will stay, for there I can and may stay, because I neither come with distracting forms nor distracting garments and am just the way the soul wants me to be. That this is the right thing, decades of beautiful experiences have confirmed to me. I must, can, and may take the liberty of displaying this honest and natural quality, because solely by these means, I am able to effectuate what I want to achieve, because I do not ask my readers to conform to a different or even higher artistic standard than I ask from myself, and because the time has not come, yet, when I will have to give my work also an external form, which is on an aesthetically higher level. Now, I still make my sketches, and sketches are commonly accepted as they are.

In my entire work, not including the humorous short stories and village-tales from the Ore Mountains, there is not a single character which was fully developed and perfected by me, not even Winnetou and Hadji Halef Omar, those two about whom I have written more than about any other characters. After all, I am not finished with my own development yet, I am still changing. Inside of me, everything is still moving ahead, and of the characters within me, all of my topics are moving along with me. I know my goal; but until I will have reached it, I am still travelling, and all of my thoughts are still travelling. Naturally, none of our poets and artists, and mainly none of our great cla.s.sics, have postponed their work, until they have grown mentally mature enough, but I am to be regarded as an outsider in this respect as well, am even described by many as an outlaw or outcast, and therefore, I may not even by a long shot take those liberties which others take for granted. What is regarded as the most natural thing in the world with others, is in me either regarded as bad or ridiculous, and things which are accepted as an excuse, a reason for forgiveness, for others are being ignored in my case.

One single time, I have intended to write something of artistic value, my "Babel and Bible". What was the consequence? It has been described as a "miserable fabrication", and so much mockery and sneering has been heaped up on it, as if it had been written by a harlequin or an ape. Such an experience makes a person stand back and await his time. And this time will come for sure.

Literary buffoons can very well be swept off the scene, but spiritual movements cannot be suppressed, for they are invincible.

I would not think of making accusations, since nothing would come out of it, anyhow. Nevertheless, I must not fail to give one example to ill.u.s.trate the fact I touched upon here, one single example which says it all thus clearly that I can easily forgo all other evidence. This example concerns an organisation, which has been founded for the purpose of establis.h.i.+ng libraries for the people and making books more readily available, and which has distributed, until now, several thousands of my volumes each year.

Suddenly, they stopped this, and being asked about it, the central office of this organisation issued the following statement, which had been published by several newspapers: "On our part, we do refrain from the further distribution of May's writings and no longer offer these books through our catalogues, but we do not intent to express by this that the contents of May's traveller's tales would be objectionable, and we also to not ask the boards of our organisations to go through the trouble of removing these books from the libraries for that matter. Our current disapproving position is not directed against the _writings,_ but against the _personage_ of the author. _Thus,_you_can_continue_to_ _allow_these_volumes_to_be_checked_out_without_any_need_for_ _concern."_ This is surely enough! My books are beyond reproach; but I as a person am publicly condemned! Why? Due to this "scheme" I already talk about earlier. Therefore, do not think that the "Karl-May-persecution" or, to put it a bit more decently, the "Karl-May-problem" was a matter of literature. Here are, by no means, literary or even ethical reasons at play, but it is, to call it by its proper name, a solely personal butchering for the morally lowest reasons pertaining to my lawsuits. What they say in this context about moral and journalistic necessities is nothing but a bombastic show, to conceal the truth. If someone would want to write a novel about this, this could become the most sensational one of all colportage novels, and the main characters would be the following: The former chief editor Dr. Hermann Cardauns in Bonn, the former colporteuse Pauline Munchmeyer in Dresden, the Franciscan monk Dr. Expeditus Schmidt in Munich, the former social democrat Rudolf Lebius in Charlottenburg, who has seceded from the Christian church, the Benedictine Father Ansgar Pollmann in Beuron, and the lawyer of the colporteuse Munchmeyer, Dr. Gerlach in Niederlonitz near Dresden. This novel would be most important for the purpose of shedding some light on the present legislation and would also cast surprising side-lights on other conditions, conditions of society, business, and the psyche.

There, we would get to see much filth, very much filth, which is anything but tasteful, and thus, I want, since I have to mention and demonstrate this filth here as well, to try my best to get this over with as quickly as possible.

VIII. My Lawsuits

Jrgensen [a], whom my readers will probably know, says in his parable "The Shadow" to the poet: "You do not know what you are doing, when you are sitting and writing here and your soul is filled by the power of the wine and the night. You do not know how many people's fate is reshaped, created, changed by a single line of yours on the white paper. You do not know how many a human joy you are killing, how many a death sentence you are signing, here, in your quiet solitude, by the peaceful lamp, between the flowery gla.s.ses and the bottle of burgundy. Consider, _that_we_others_act_out_what_you_poets_write._ We are as you have shaped us. The youth of this realm repeats your creation like shadows. We are as chaste as you are; we are as immoral as you want us to be. The young men believe according to your belief in or denial of any faith. The young girls are as decent or frivolous as the women are your glorify."

[a] Jens Johannes Jrgensen (1866-1956)

In this, Jrgensen is perfectly right. His opinion coincides exactly with my own. Yes, I will even go far beyond his. Poets and novelists have a much greater, creative or destructive, purifying or soiling influence than most people suspect. If it is true what the newer psychology says, that "a person is not a single being, but an entire drama", then an author's work might possibly be even regarded as more akin to a divine creation than to a creation of human labour. Because I am very much aware of this, I am also aware of the immense responsibility which every one of us writers has, as soon as we take up the pen. Whenever I do so, I do it with the honest intention, to create only something good, but never something evil. Thus, you can imagine how astonished I was, when I found out that I had been said to have written "abysmally indecent" books for the publis.h.i.+ng company of H.G. Munchmeyer. The expression "abysmally indecent" was invented by Cardauns, who is known for having the peculiarity to indulge in the most exaggerated harshness whenever he opposes someone. Then, in his articles, all things are not just proven, but "evidently proven", not made up, but "cunningly made up", not distorted, but "distorted beyond recognition". Therefore, in describing these Munchmeyer novels, because the were said to be written by me, the simple word "indecent" was not enough, but it was the most natural thing in the world that they had to be even "abysmally indecent".

The first trace of these "indecencies" of mine was discovered over in the United States. Councillor of Commerce Pustet, who owns branch offices there, wrote to me about this rumour and wished me to respond to this. I did so. I answered him that I did not know anything about any indecencies and that I would investigate the matter, if necessary even in court. I would then inform him of the results. This settled the matter for him. He was an honourable gentleman, a man with a keen mind and a good heart, who would never have even considered to go about anything in a clandestine manner. We liked each other. He is with absolute certainty not even in the slightest degree to blame for the indescribably filthy and disgustingly pa.s.sionate agitation persecuting me. Because the rumour came from America, I had to investigate there first. This required a long time, and I was unable to obtain any specific information. I only knew that the rumour was about those novels I had written for Munchmeyer, but I found no one who would have been able to name the chapters and the pa.s.sages to me where this indecency would be contained. And to laboriously search through all five novels, this are about eight hundred printed sheets, on account of a mere, vague rumour, without even knowing what to look for, was something for which I did not have any time to waste, and this also would have been asking too much of me, anyhow. Whoever had the guts to accuse me would be required to know these indecent pa.s.sages precisely and had the duty to name them to me. I waited for this to happen.

But no one came forward, who would have done this. Pustet did not do it either. Probably, he knew just as little about those supposed indecencies as I. Unfortunately, I had been forced, some time later, to stop working for his magazine for a second time.

The first time I had done something like this was when Heinrich Keiter was still alive. He had rather significantly shorted one of my works, without asking me for my permission. I have never put up with any corrections or abridgments. The readers are to get to know me as I am, with all faults and shortcoming, but not as an editor cuts me down to size. Therefore, I informed Pustet that he could not expect any further ma.n.u.scripts from me. He tried to change my mind by means of letters, but in vain. Then he, the old gentleman, came personally to Radebeul. This was moving, but equally unsuccessful. Then, he sent his nephews, quite naturally with the same negative result, because after all, neither of them had been the one who had violated my rights.

Then, the right man came, Heinrich Keiter in person. He promised me that it should never happen again, and on account of this, I retracted my refusal. Certain people are still holding this against me. They expressed it like this: "Heinrich Keiter had to make a kotow [a] before Karl May." I possess letters on this topic, written to me by no ordinary person. But he had only himself to blame, not me. I have respected Heinrich Keiter, as everyone respected him. I recognise all of his merits and still feel sorry for having been compelled, at this time, to show that I had a backbone. There was no other way. I had to have the hard cover edition of my "traveller's tales" printed on the basis of the texts of the "Hausschatz" magazine, and therefore, I could not permit that my ma.n.u.scripts were changed in any way.

[a] Kotow (Chinese): Kneeling and knocking one's head on the floor as a gesture of homage. Here, the term is, of course, used figuratively, meaning to be forced to humiliate oneself.

Later, I wrote for Pustet my novel in four volumes "Im Reiche des silbernen Lowen" . I had just reached the end of the second volume, when friends of mine among the editorial staff of other publishers sent me a advertising pamphlet from the "Hausschatz", the contents of which caused me to repeat my previous refusal. I telegraphed Pustet that I had to discontinue the work in progress and that I would write no further word for him. He even had to send the unprinted ma.n.u.script in his possession back to me, for which I returned the royalties to him he had payed for it. I would not have mentioned this with a single word, if not, a short time ago, I had received a threat, though only from a very irrelevant party, to reveal facts from that time. Therefore, I have used this opportunity to state the truth here. And at the same time, I furthermore state for a fact that I never stopped being on a personally friendly basis with Councillor of Commerce Pustet and that I felt an honest joy and satisfaction when, after about ten years had pa.s.sed, he sent his present editor of the "Hausschatz", the Royal Genuine Councillor Dr. Otto Denk, to see me at Leinfelder's hotel in Munich, to persuade me to work for the "Hausschatz" again. I then proceeded to write the "Mir of Jinnistan" for him.

With this, I have jumped far ahead of Cardauns's accusations of "abysmal indecency" against me and am now turning back to them, to uncover the cause and the root of this matter. The cause is Munchmeyer, and the root is just the same. The facts which contributed to this affair form a chain of events, extending over more than thirty years, the links of which are intimately connected on the levels of logic, business, and the law. Most of it has been proven. Some of it is still hidden in the files, waiting to be exposed to the light of day. I am not willing to prejudge the pending lawsuits and will therefore only discuss those points which have been fully resolved.

I have already said that Munchmeyer knew about my prior convictions. He even knew all the lies which had been added to them. He wished very much that I would write a novel about this; but I rejected this most decisively. In the circle of his friends and acquaintances, I have not kept my past secret, but rather I have told them about it without any reservations and explained in detail my views on criminals and crimes, guilt, punishment, and the penal system. Not a single member of the Munchmeyer family has a right to pretend not to have known about this. The workers of the company found out about it, too, the typesetters, printers, and all others, as well as the authors, contributing to the publications. "May has been punished; he has been to prison", they said, sometimes quietly, sometimes louder, but soon spreading everywhere. Thus, it is fundamentally wrong to start talking about sudden "revelations" or even about my "unmasking", now.

Whoever pretends that he had unmasked me, is lying.

It is an important fact that Munchmeyer had a rather p.r.o.nounced preference for working with previously convicted people in particular, for certain business reasons. Going through the list of authors, both men and women, who have written for him, the percentage of those with a criminal record is rather significant.

I already noticed this very soon after I had joined his company.

Walter [a], his main factotum, to whom he a.s.signed all the task n.o.body else was allowed to know about, had prior convictions as well. Very soon after I had taken over as editor, he brought in a former official of the postal services from Vienna, who had embezzled money, to be one of my co-workers. When similar cases occurred repeatedly and I asked him for his reasons, he answered: "An author who has been punished can be made to put up with anything, because he fears that his criminal record will be disclosed." "So, this also includes me?!" I exclaimed, astonished at such an honesty. "Nonsense!" he replied. "With you, the matter is entirely different. We are friends! And after all, you're no ordinary man, who would put up with anything! Even if I would not honestly care about you, any attempt to cross you would have to fail!" He tried his best to remove the mistrust which had arisen in me, but it could not be made to disappear entirely and was a contributing factor in my resignation, when I left my job as an editor on account of that proposal of marriage. Later, when after the time of six years I started to write the "Waldroschen"

for him, these second thoughts against him resurfaced again in me.

But the exceptional position, he granted me in his personal life and in his business, the exceptional royalties he payed me, and most of all the objections my wife made at every opportunity against my distrust, all of this influenced me so that I finally returned to my previous trust in him.

[a] August Walther (1827-1900). The misspelling of this name occurs throughout the original text with only one exception.

(In German, a "th" is p.r.o.nounced the same as a "t".)

That I did not receive any proof sheets to read and therefore also did not get my ma.n.u.scripts of the novels I wrote for Munchmeyer back, I had already mentioned. Thus, I could not verify, whether the printed version matched my original ma.n.u.script. But honesty in this respect had been promised to me in such very certain terms that I did not consider any fraud possible. I also thought it impossible that Munchmeyer could later ever pretend that he had bought my novels with all rights not just up to the twenty thousandth subscriber, but forever, because, first of all, I had kept all of his letters, in which he repeated everything, we had (not) [a] put into a written agreement, one thing after another, and secondly I also had another fully valid proof in my hands, that he did not own the rights forever. This was that he had made, in writing, the attempt to obtain these rights later on. He had done so using a reciprocal bond, which he sent to me by means of this ex-convict factotum Walter, to have it signed by me. But I rejected this extraordinarily cunning messenger with his bond.