The Devil's Reward Read online

  At the time of my birth, Papyrus had someone carve a baptismal font in the trunk of an ancient oak, and it was in the hollow of that large mass of wood that my baptism was celebrated. Gabriel and I used to run there and sit down panting and then discuss all that we’d heard and seen. That day I tripped him and he fell flat on his face and scraped his knee. He said it stung a bit. When I bent down to blow on it — imitating what the grown-ups did when we hurt ourselves — he slapped me hard. In tears, I slapped him back and we ended up fighting like two stray cats. When I finally pleaded with him to stop because he was hurting me, Gabriel stood up, threw a fistful of my hair at me, and said, “Scram, you dumb Rudolfsteiner!”

  “I’m not talking to you anymore, you dumb Goetheanum!” I shot back.

  “Get out of my sight and go cry in your corner!”

  Which is what I did.

  The men were smoking fat cigars while my mother and Aunt Bette played cards in her private sitting room, where a nice fire crackled in the fireplace. I slipped up the stairs unnoticed and ran to my bedroom. A short time later Gabriel knocked on my door. The bogey brother was bored.

  “Hey, it’s Goetheanum, will you open up?”

  “If you think you’re funny, think again.”

  “I know I’m funny, now open up!”

  I opened the door. Staring at my torn dress and mussed-up hair, he started laughing. He then got the idea of having me make an appearance in our mother’s sitting room. I always did what Gabriel told me to do. He was quite a sight too, with his soiled shorts and bloody knee. And so it was in that state that we burst in on Aunt Bette, Elodie, and my mother, shouting “Coal delivery!” and laughing hysterically as they looked on horrified. The three men were laughing too, which encouraged us further despite my mother’s crestfallen look. The poor woman — she really deserved better than us two little savages.

  That evening my parents hosted a reception to celebrate Easter, and rooms were prepared for Uncle Geoffroy, Aunt Bette, Cousin Vincent, and Aunt Elodie to stay the night. Dinner parties like these were for us a real treat. We could eat delicious little things without having to sit at the table, we could hide at the top of the stairs and watch guests arrive without being seen, and we could criticize everyone and analyze every detail. It was like going to the movies.

  Aunt Bette came up from behind and surprised us, patting our heads in a friendly gesture. She was magnificent in her long red dress, and I knew already that it was going to annoy my mother. She was always charming with us and yet we didn’t like her much. I don’t know how to explain it, but her every word and movement had something haughty about it that was exasperating to us rascals. Thinking back on it, I’m still surprised how much ascendancy she had over the men in my family. All three were crusty, impenitent cavalrymen, and their interest in her and her theories was probably based more on a primitive attraction for her physique than any real philosophical convictions. Although…

  Everything started at the end of the First World War when Papyrus had been lightly wounded in combat, Vincent and Geoffroy survived the trenches, and Bette, newly widowed, took up spiritualism and a relatively new school of thought disseminated by a certain Rudolf Steiner: anthroposophy. My mother was only a girl then, ten years younger than my father, who would gallop under the windows of the boarding school for girls she attended, either alone or with other riders. They had fun performing acrobatic feats to this audience of wide-eyed virgins. My father met my mother at some ball in the area. She had grace and was of a good family but far too young for him to take notice of. Vincent, Geoffroy, and Louis were famous throughout the land for liking the ladies. Their high jinks were notorious, but they were considered charming, funny, worthy gentlemen.

  When war erupted, the three hardy fellows, who were enrolled at the military academy Saint-Cyr, were called into combat. My grandfather organized a ball in their honor, and among the guests was the woman who would become my mother. She was a child and nothing happened between them, but she found the courage, most likely with cheeks flushed and legs trembling, to approach and bestow on him a silver medal of the Virgin, saying that it would protect him. And the rogue put it around his neck.

  Chapter Five

  Enguerrand was the same age as Papyrus and they were quite close. After meeting Bette he distanced himself from his friends and lived only for her. All that romance lasted only a short while, however, because the war started a few months after their wedding. Each time he returned from the front they would shut themselves in their bedroom and only emerge at mealtimes. Theirs was an all-consuming passion, and it’s not impossible that this contributed to the scant sympathy my mother had for her sister-in-law.

  It was then that Bette met a certain Jeanne de Valcourt, who hosted Spiritism sessions for friends and acquaintances several times a week. At first there were only a few individuals of the upper bourgeoisie who attended, but as news from the front slowed to a trickle, many people asked her for help in contacting the dead and inquired about the fate of their relatives in the trenches. Aunt Bette was most impressed by the first meeting she attended. She claimed the pedestal table used by Jeanne rose off the floor and started spinning like a top — leaving everyone present terrorized. Bette had no trouble being persuaded that the medium had disturbed some spirits who then took revenge on her with this trick. It left her so frightened she promised never to return. And yet another event, more dramatic still, convinced her forever that life after death was real.

  Enguerrand died from wounds caused by a bomb that exploded a few hours before the Armistice was signed. Aunt Bette was reading by the fire that November morning when she saw the door open and Enguerrand appeared before her. She knew immediately that something terrible had happened.

  “Enguerrand, is that you?” she asked without getting an answer.

  She did not throw her arms around his neck as she would usually have done, because she sensed this was a paranormal appearance. Her husband was dead, she just knew it. After caressing her with terribly sad eyes, Enguerrand turned, went out the door, and disappeared forever.

  When she was informed of the death of her husband, Aunt Bette had already been in mourning for several days, though without confiding in anyone about the strange apparition. She feared that she would be accused of making the whole thing up, but in truth that strange experience left her feeling anxious and sad.

  She then decided to go to Basel and spend several days with her family.

  In Basel, Aunt Bette reunited with her older sister Greta, who after her own husband’s death had come back to live in the family home on the banks of the Rhine. Bette’s father owned a pharmaceutical business and had raised everyone to lead busy, full lives. But despite its neutrality, Switzerland had also suffered from the war and that was readily apparent.

  At the beginning of her stay, Bette was rather aloof and avoided contact with her family. Then one evening after dinner as Bette was returning to her room, Greta came and knocked on her door.

  “Am I bothering you?”

  “No, of course not. I’m just very tired.”

  Greta paid no attention and sat down at the foot of the bed.

  “Bette, my dear sister, I understand what you’re going through. I’ve been through it myself, you remember?”

  “Did you love your husband? I was madly in love with mine.”

  “I didn’t love him madly, no, but I loved him.”

  “You see how different that is. Me, I could never make a new life with someone else.”

  “But you’re twenty-two! You’ve got your whole life in front of you!”

  “I could never do it.”

  “Bette, my angel, that’s what you think today, you’re still in shock, but you’ll see life has a colossal force that will sweep you along without your being able to resist.”

  “Even if what you say is true, I could never abandon him.”

  “But Bet
te, he’s dead.”

  Bette raised her eyes to look at her sister and contemplated confiding her secret, but she held back and breathed a deep sigh.

  “Did you want to say something to me?”

  “No — well, maybe, but I changed my mind.”

  “You can tell me anything.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Go ahead, try me.”

  Bette told her sister about the apparition of Enguerrand and the anxiety she felt afterward. To her surprise, Greta showed no skepticism at all and nodded as though her sister were describing an experience she was accustomed to.

  “Greta, did you hear me? You don’t seem surprised.”

  “It’s perfectly obvious that your husband wanted to say goodbye to you personally.”

  “Except he’d been dead for some minutes already and it happened sixty miles from our home.”

  “Have you heard of Rudolf Steiner?”

  “Who’s he?”

  “A marvelous man — a philosopher, teacher, architect, and many other things besides. He started a center a few miles from here in Dornach. Tomorrow I’ll take you there.”

  This was how Bette became acquainted with Rudolf Steiner and his wife Marie von Sivers, with whom she became friends.

  The first thing that struck Bette upon entering the Goetheanum was its incredible overall atmosphere. The round forms of the center’s architecture gave a certain soulfulness and autonomy to its structures, as though they didn’t need the presence of man and were not even man-made. These buildings, designed by Steiner himself, became silent interlocutors — both enigmatic and imposing. The people who occupied them opened doors and closed them behind themselves without taking the least notice of the visitors. Then they would come out again quickly and go through another door, following some mysterious and invisible protocol.

  “Who are these people?” asked Bette.

  “People who are trying to rediscover the wisdom that we’ve lost over time.”

  “But what do they do?”

  “Everything. Everyone works hard here. Steiner’s teaching is infinitely rich in all areas. Anthroposophy is a path to knowledge accessible to everyone. Don’t be intimidated. You’ll see that everything will become clearer to your mind and to your heart.”

  “Is it a sort of university?”

  “More or less. Come, we’ll go to the woodworking shop.”

  A raised stage was set up in the middle of the workshop and several dancers were running here and there raising their arms and then closing them around an imaginary ball. Below the stage a voice was reciting some beautiful lines of German verse, but Bette was unable to identify the author. Bette was not yet the educated, ethereal, and slightly irritating woman she would later become. She looked around among all those gathered to see where the voice was coming from and finally noticed at the very end of the stage a strong-looking woman. Despite her hardy appearance and bold chin, she exuded an undeniably peaceful force as she read from a page with one hand and controlled the movements of the dancers with the other. She interrupted them several times and went onstage to demonstrate herself how the choreography should be followed. This was how Bette first encountered the bottomless soft blue gaze of Marie von Sivers, the wife of Rudolf Steiner. Steiner himself then appeared through a side door and approached to watch the practice session. He was very attentive but never interrupted the proceedings. Bette allowed herself to be caressed by the warm, welcoming atmosphere, and by an antique beauty that was entirely genuine. She knew nothing about eurythmy, but was immediately drawn to want to know everything she could about it. Greta explained that it was not dance in the normal sense but more precisely an art intended to transform instinctive movement into conscious movement that would bring humans into a new harmony with nature and the cosmos. It was a kind of visible speaking.

  “All that is pretty opaque to me, Greta. I don’t really understand what’s going on.”

  “Of course, my angel, that’s perfectly normal. Explaining what eurythmy is to someone who has not tried it is like trying to explain what music is to someone who has never heard any.”

  When the practice was over, Steiner left the workshop and went to the amphitheater, where he was to give a lecture. Greta took her sister by the hand to present her to Marie von Sivers.

  “Marie, this is my sister Bette, who has come from France.”

  “Hello, Bette, I’m very pleased to meet you. Everyone here likes your sister Greta very much.”

  “Well, the feeling is mutual, I believe.”

  The two women felt immediately at ease with each other, as though they were already friends. There was a deep and subtle bond between them from the start.

  “What did you make of our little show? I hope we will soon be ready for our performance.”

  “Oh, Marie, I found you amazing as usual. Everyone was really great, I thought.”

  “You’re too kind, Greta, but it’s true that they are really inspired. But we can talk more later. Rudolf is about to begin his talk. Let’s go listen together.”

  Steiner spoke vehemently about the culture’s hostility toward the science of the spirit and he predicted a hardening of that hostility in the future. He claimed that studying the spirit was more necessary than ever to meet the changes going on in the world, but also that paradoxically this necessity aroused greater distrust and even animosity among men who were not inducted into that study. He said that the scientist of spirit or mind knew very well that certain devilish forces worked through men who were less evolved in order to bar the way to knowledge.

  “What mankind needs the most will become the object of increasing attacks. The anthroposophy society is like a protective shield against aggression from the external world. But we who are familiar with these things, we must ask, from a scientific-spiritual standpoint, what are the most important qualities to instill in humanity. Two particular truths must be presented in a convincing manner: reincarnation and karma. What will be the implications for man when he recognizes that reincarnation and karma are true? Nothing less than the accomplishment of an amplification of the self beyond the predetermined confines of human knowledge acquired up until now. And beyond this enlargement of the confines of birth and death the feeling of responsibility is also amplified.”

  Steiner possessed undeniable charisma, and behind his round spectacles his dark eyes encircled with a bluish tint stared into your wounds, provoking at once both pain and relief. As hot tears were running down Bette’s beautiful face, a weak light appeared in the depths of her dark thoughts. She reached out for Greta’s hand and squeezed it.

  “Welcome to your second family, my dear sister. You’ll see it really is like a family.”

  “Oh Greta, everything is so overwhelming. I don’t really understand what Mr. Steiner was explaining to us but I feel overcome with enormous emotion. It was as though he were speaking directly to my soul.”

  “That is exactly what he was speaking to.”

  “But what are these devilish things he was talking about?”

  “According to Steiner, evil can operate in either of two ways: the way of Lucifer, which turns man exaggeratedly from reality, so that he only takes interest in spiritual matters; or the way of Ahriman, which binds him to matter and turns his attention from all spiritual activities.”

  “What would be an example? I apologize for asking all these naive questions but all this is so new to me.”

  “People who meditate all the time and neglect, for example, taking care of their children, would be dominated by Lucifer, whereas those who only think of money or power are under the total control of Ahriman. Is that clearer for you?”

  In the following days, Greta and Bette would go off to the Goetheanum directly after breakfast. Marie von Sivers initiated Bette into eurythmy and even found she was rather gifted at it. They spent a lot of time together. Bett
e even told her the story of Enguerrand’s mysterious appearance. Marie then told her a very similar story of something that happened to her husband at age seven.

  “He was alone in the little train station where his father was stationmaster when a woman opened the door and walked toward him, making odd gestures as she approached. She told him that from now on he must do everything in his power to help her, and then she disappeared. Rudolf kept this a secret, thinking that sharing it would only provoke mockery and accusations of lying. Some days later, he discovered that at the precise moment he was having that experience a close relative had committed suicide. Rudolf was convinced that the deceased person had appeared to him to ask for help.”

  “So do you think Enguerrand came to me for the same reason—to ask for my help?”

  “No, he would have told you. Come have lunch with Rudolf and me. I would be pleased to introduce you before he leaves again for Berlin.”

  The lunch was very lively and Marie von Sivers kept up a steady stream of praise for Bette’s talented dancing. Bette felt loved and welcomed into this intelligent, warm family and said so.

  “Well, you see you’re not alone,” Steiner replied softly. “Enguerrand will always be near you, but karma will bring other people into your life. Look to the light. His death was wished by higher powers, and things have ties that you must honor even if you don’t understand them yet.”

  Bette’s stay, which was to have lasted a few weeks, ended up lasting several months. She made friends with many people, including with a Russian eurythmist named Olga. The practice sessions were often very long. Marie von Sivers boldly declaimed texts in every language and remained devoted to the full artistic development of her students. She continually corrected, counseled, encouraged, and pushed them to better express their abilities. For their benefit she had given up on becoming a eurythmist herself, even though dance was her principal passion. Bette sensed the self-denial that led Marie von Sivers to confine herself to recitation and spoke about it with Olga.