Vienna, Austria. March 28, 1913. A fine evening in early spring. Lou and the very handsome young blond-haired psychiatrist Dr Victor Tausk emerge from the Urania Cinema. They’ve just seen an American movie, Cleopatra, based on Sardou’s play, starring Helen Gardner as the queen and Charles Sindelar as Antony.
Walking amidst the evening crowds along the Donau Canal, they follow Franz-Josefs-Kai to Rotenturmstrasse, reveling in one another’s company and the warm air carrying the aroma of early blooming flowers.
After a silence, Lou broaches a subject that has recently concerned her.
‘Ellen tells me I was discussed before my arrival. At one of Freud’s Wednesday evenings, no less.’
‘Does that surprise you, Lou?’ Tausk asks. ‘A famous woman coming to study with him and join our little group – of course everyone was curious about you.’
‘Was this an informal discussion, or …?’
‘Actually, Hugo Heller presented a paper about your fiction.’
‘Really! Heller never mentioned it. He was complimentary, I hope.’
‘It was an excellent paper. You’d have been flattered.’
‘And after the paper there was discussion?’ Tausk nods. ‘About the photograph?’
‘Yes, yes – the “infamous photograph”. Of course that came up. How could it not since it established you as a great femme fatale?’
Lou scoffs at the notion. ‘Is that really what they think?’
‘Please, Lou, everyone was excited you were joining us, in awe of you and perhaps a little worried too that you’d try to dominate discussions. An unnecessary worry as it turned out. You’ve been wonderful, an excellent listener. It’s clear to all that Freud holds you in high regard. Everyone agrees it’s nice to have a woman in our circle, moreover one who’s built a reputation outside the profession and who, by the way, doesn’t happen to be Jewish. None of us wants psychoanalysis to be viewed as an exclusively Jewish field.’
‘So like Jung I was especially welcome.’
‘The Jung issue is something else. I hear Freud’s about to break with him.’
‘You say the photo came up, Victor. Do you mean mentioned in passing, or analyzed?’
Tausk laughs. ‘There was some analysis, as you’d expect from our group.’
‘Such as?’
‘You want me to tell you what was said?’ Lou nods. ‘As I recall, basically two questions were raised. The first was whether it really was Nietzsche who instigated the whole thing.’
‘It was!’
‘I believe you. The second question was whether as a key participant you understood what the poses seemed to signify, or whether you took part in the naïve belief that it was all just fun and games?’
Lou exhales: she’s answered this query many times. ‘It was a joyful moment commemorating a serious plan – my plan that we three would live together chastely in a kind of intellectual commune.’ She looks at Tausk. ‘What was Freud’s reaction?’
‘He didn’t say much, just listened and smiled slightly the way he often does.’ Tausk chuckles. ‘That, as you know, can carry more meaning than a lengthy speech by anybody else.’ He stops walking, turns to Lou so they’re facing one another, then peers into her eyes. ‘Didn’t you suspect your plan couldn’t possibly work, that if two men, rivals competing for a woman’s love, were forced to live together the end could only be explosive?’
‘Yes, a time bomb! I’ve heard that. Call me naïve, but at the time my plan seemed worthy and on the day that picture was taken I was certain great things would come of it.’
‘As apparently they did.’
‘You’re speaking of Zarathustra. But, you see, I’ve never believed that book was a reaction to our failed plan. Fritz was deeply troubled even then. As I wrote …’
‘I know the line, Lou. “The depths of his misery became the glowing furnace in which his will to knowledge was forged.” Do I have it right?’
Lou nods.
‘I still have a question regarding the symbolism. Did Nietzsche want to suggest that, harnessed along with Paul Rée, the two of them would transport you to some undefined but exemplary future destiny, or was he suggesting that under your discipline he and Paul would fulfill the promise of their greatness?’
‘That’s a truly wonderful question, Victor, the best one, I think, that’s been raised about the picture. Knowing Nietzsche, I believe the former – that he saw himself and to a lesser extent Paul as mentors who would pull me along.’ She laughs. ‘Who knows? Maybe it was all just harmless fun and these deep hidden meanings, so dear to those of us in the profession, are simply, as Freud so often points out, unprovable interpretations superimposed upon a perfectly innocent joyous shared experience.’
Tausk stops to light a cigarette. ‘Actually Freud did say something about the photo. He said it seemed staged like a frozen moment in a dream, and the only way to interpret a dream is to put the dreamer under analysis. As a result, he added, anything more he might say about it would be speculative. But he did make one observation. He told us he recognized the Alpine peak in the background, that it was the mountain known as Die Jungfrau, The Virgin. Then he reminded us that in a dream every little detail is important, his way of telling us that choosing the Jungfrau as the background would be an important clue to decoding the dream.’
Hearing this, Lou smiles knowingly. Tausk, catching her smile, asks her if she agrees.
Lou shrugs, signaling she’ll have nothing to say about the then-state of her virginity. Then she laughs and takes Victor’s arm.
‘Let’s go to that Italian place we like, grab something to eat, then go back to the Zita. My little friend Ellen’s out for the evening, doubtless seducing another of her numerous admirers.’ She stops, turns to Tausk, looks him in the eye. ‘Her interest in you hasn’t escaped me, Victor. I noticed it when I returned to the room the other day and found you two reading Faust. She makes a fine Gretchen, doesn’t she? So young and devilishly pretty. You’ve been tempted too, haven’t you? I understand. She’s a seductive little creature. But let’s hope she doesn’t take her Gretchen role too seriously and try to poison her old mama.’
Tausk seems a little unnerved by this. ‘Believe me, Lou – nothing could be further from her mind. She adores you. As do I. Please don’t think such things.’
Lou giggles. ‘I love her too, so never mind. It’s good she’s out tonight. We’ll be able to fully express ourselves without worrying the little vixen will tiptoe in and interrupt us in our passion.’