View source for From Cecile Polanyi? to György Lukács (2 March 1912)

== Original German Typed Version ==
{{Deutscher Text zum Tippen}}

{{Page |n°=1}} - {{Page |n°=3}}

== English Translation ==
{{Page |n°=4}} Gyuri – It is good the way it is, I have been here for two months now, and have neither found nor looked for any of my old acquaintances. I am organizing a Girls Lycaum and am looking for new staff and new possibilities. Analysis is my great and unsuccessful love – and as for flirta-tions, the time for that has passed. Alright. Not a single soul, not one solitary soul from old times. Neither called them, nor met them. But when I heard that Gyuri I here… well… he is neither ‘world’ nor ‘home’, he is really a piece of my good old past. You (i.e. I) must have committed a crime, or you (i.e. I) would not be meting out such harsh punishment, and if you even don’t know what it was, you have committed it all the same. For sure. To all these people you don’t want to see, to all these people I am now avoiding. But Gyuri, I want to see. You probably didn’t damage him much – he was more resistant. So him you really want to see. You can’t hold jelly or protoplasm or any other sort of inconsistent stuff in your hand for a life with-out feeling sick. But that one is solid, real steel (do you hear the false note of the old Schmerck-lerei) or hard stubborn wood – that one really belonged to you. Call him… But you don’t come. I am closer to tears than to rage, (and in spite of largest Schmeicherei – this is true, not false) I could lay my head on the table and sob for hours. Not because Gyuri is not coming. No, be-cause I now know that I am old – children and loneliness will now be my surrounding. The grown-ups though, and move on. You are quite right. And your letter is proof that you have grown up. I have only one consolation – Gyuri can be “so” grown up, and reply “so”, but be-fore he was “so” grown up, he needed you, because all the children needed you. I must cry some more, but softer, with less pain and less anger then before. And one can see so much clearly through the tears. I know why I did not call others; because then they might have come – for they are still children. Old children – not beautiful any more. And so for me only grandchil-dren, and later a Lyceum where there will be ever new children. Because I need them. And now I must cry some more, and for no rhyme or reason. Not even psychoanalytical ones. I nev-er really loved you. I mean I never loved you like Leo, or Otto – we were not even very good friends and even and often I hated you because Karli is becoming a “scholar” (academic, learned person) because he will come to the help of every poor old woman, because he refuses to grow up – but then why must I be crying? Is it more from fury than sadness? But anger and sadness – it’s all the same for me.

Our feelings run deep, somewhere between our childish wishes and our longings – and torment old women too? I don’t know anything, except that I must weep – it is 11 o’clock – everyone will passing through the room, and want to know what’s the matter. Better I write. Gyuri – I write for the last time and I won’t write – I will cry – where is Leo? Where is Irma? Where are the living – where is Karli, where are they all, all I have lost – and now I know that I am not crying for them, and I don’t need you – I am crying because we cry at all souls and because the calendar is lying, and the years fly by so fast.

It is all souls, and not white sun. And surely it is only anger and fury that is releasing these tears down my cheeks. These tears which play havoc with the devastated feelings of old wom-en. Bu because I never loved you, I have no fear to be rejected by you, and that explains the ugly ______ of this letter.

I have now re-read you parting note. You are neither offended nor give me cause to be offended – you have just grown up. And because you have grown up, that is why I am old. The catego-ries are eternal. Old women cry easily I cried. It’s alright Gyuri, I am alright and quite calm, and smiling. This is the moment for which I have waited. Now I can raise my head, smile with sense and not stupidly, shake your hand, and tell you yes, yes that is how it is. Good bye. Take care, I’m alright – we have books to read, yours and the others – Take care, bon voyage – send you a word one in a while – some read a new baby, a new book, or just a picture post card greeting – old folk who sit at home alone get great pleasure from a post card - …With best wishes, your Cecile Polanyi.

PS. “With best wishes, your Cecile Polanyi” sounds ridiculous, bat what would not be ridiculous? “with a firm handshake”? “with sincere regards”? “Faithfully for ever”? It all sounds funny, and that is a comfort, and so the tears have stopped. Life is just funny, not tragic at all – so there have to be scholars too, somebody has to be a scholar, and they surely are funny, wear glasses, patter and chat with discretion, and do everything with importance – so “Gelehrte”. Gyuri is unmistakably becoming a scholar. --- You have become an old woman – and scholars have no interest in old women. --- Funny --- very funny – and when an old woman has a sense of humour – it’s OK – can stay around for a while --- doesn’t bother anybody too much --- Gyuri, lebel sie wirklich wohl!


== Letter Informations ==
'''Reference''':<br />
'''Date''':<br />
'''KPA''': [[56/06]], 1-16