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Lost Zweig (2002)
"THE LAST DAYS OF
STEFAN ZWEIG IN BRAZIL" Exile is the word they give to nightmare. I fled to Paris, to London. But everywhere I went, Gestapo thugs followed me. My name is Stefan Zweig. And this is the story of the strangest week of my life. I first came to Brazil in 1936... and immediately fell in love with the country. By comparison, Europe was about to destroy itself. If and earthly paradise exists, then it can't be far from Brazil. Last year, exhausted and disillusioned... I went back with my second wife, Lotte. But it was a different Brazil that I arrived in. And, besides, one can never really escape from a nightmare. Cheers! To carnival. And to Brazil! Not now, Hubert. Thank you. Come on, Herr Zweig! Let's forget about all the work and politics. I'm going to take you to see something unforgettable. To Brazil! To the eternal "land of the future"! Please, Hubert, I wrote that book before I came to live here. Sorry. I didn't mean to... They really dance through the streets naked? You won't believe your eyes. The whole world is turned upside down! It all sounds so savage! Hubert, must you? Sorry, it's a habit. Stop that, please! Listen, Herr Zweig, you're right. This is a wonderful country. But the Brazilian intellectuals... are either Stalinists or fervent Catholics. And most of them, even the communists... remain dictatorship's hostage. Hardly a democrat among them. Just a bunch of nationalist pigmies! All they want is their job... and someone to think for them. So, why be so surprised with their criticism? This country and its government have treated us well. I should think we owed them a debt of gratitude. The Brazilian society is not as open and free... as they'd have you believe. How is your health, Lotte? It doesn't matter where I am. I still have my attacks. This is a time of celebration... yet we insist on discussing disease and tyranny. Herr Zweig... just because Vargas has given you your visa... don't think he will automatically support... your request for a Jewish homeland. Don't forget that Salazar turned down your same request... for a Jewish homeland in Portuguese Africa. I'm fully aware of how dictatorships work. But I sense Vargas is different. Besides, Brazil is a continent. I'm sure he will back my request. Please, Herr Zweig, be careful. Don't imagine for one moment that Vargas protects Jews. You and a handful of others are useful exceptions. Of course, he wants to look tolerant, especially by the Americans. And dictators, they are all flirting with Hitler and Mussolini. Hubert! I'm sorry. It's stuck. It's stuck! - Sorry. - Stefan, it's all right. Stop it, Hubert! For God's sake! - Turn it off! - Stop it! Turn it off! It's okay, Stefan. It's okay. My dear friend, please forgive me. I don't know what is wrong with me these days. Perhaps it's old age. No, Herr Zweig. Don't say such things. In fact, I don't think you've ever looked so good. Really! - You're very kind. - Well, let's go! Tomorrow we have carnival to celebrate. The President of the Republic, Dr. Getlio Vargas... welcomes the eminent Austrian writer... Dr. Stefan Zweig, to Brazil. The Minister for Press and Propaganda, Dr. Lauro Pontes... was in charge of protocol... and introduced the celebrity to the Head of Government. Dr. Zweig, accompanied by his wife... and by his Brazilian publisher, Sr. Jonas Faerman... presented the President with a copy of his popular publication... "Brazil: Land of the Future"... inscribed with a special dedication to president Vargas. The President wished the well-known author a happy stay... and urged him to write further books... to the glory of his new home - Brazil. Sing! Sing! Chop-chop! Sing! Sing! Good, very good! Once more! Stefan Zweig! Jesus, Stefan Zweig, here! It's you! What a marvelous coincidence! Stefan Zweig at carnival in Rio! Believe me, Mr. Zweig... when I got off the plane, I said to my producer: "Get me an interview with Stefan Zweig. He's a sublime writer. I must talk to him. " But your agent or somebody said you were... unavailable. That's very kind of you, Mr. Welles. You know, they are boycotting my pictures. Here it's Vargas... back home, it's Rockefeller and RKO studios. Everything is tough! I'm being censored. So now they send me here... to film the Brazil of the postcards, the scenic Brazil. But me, I want to shoot the real people, the slums... the black guys, the black girls! Specially the black girls. The people are what make a country special. Oh yes, Mr. Zweig! Yes! Everything I learned about Brazil I learned from your book. It's a masterpiece. No other foreigner knows Brazil, understands Brazil like you. And I say that to anyone who cares to listen. It's no secret: your book is the inspiration for my picture. George! The book! Thanks! See? So long, Mr. Zweig. And enjoy your paradise! And my congratulations for having such a beautiful wife! Stefan, are you coming? Am I forgetting anyone, Lotte? Why don't you take a break? You've gone over and over the list for days. I'll have plenty of time to rest when our friends are here... and safe with us. Now... who have I missed? What about the Feinbergs? I've got the Feinbergs... here. Stefan...? There must be someone we are forgetting. There must be someone we are forgetting! Stefan, wanting to play chess against yourself... involves a real paradox. It's like jumping over one's shadow. "Nothing on earth puts more pressure on the human spirit than a vacuum. " "Nothing on earth puts more pressure on the human spirit than a vacuum. " Hello? Who is it? Who was it? Nobody, dear. Wrong number. God! My God! My God! Stefan, are you going out? Yes, I've arranged to meet up with young Davila. Remember him? The young journalist Faerman... introduced us to in the palace of Vargas. I think he's looking for an interview. Okay. But don't be late, please. Of course not. Ten o'clock sharp. By the way, have you finished... my notes on Montaigne? So, Herr Zweig... what a wonderful work are you writing now? I have very few rules about writing, dear young fellow... but one of them is never talk about a work in progress. You can't even give me a little clue? Perhaps it's another book about Brazil? This beautiful land where the future never arrives. Have you ever heard of Montaigne's "Essays"? Voluntary death instead of being forced to submit to servitude... to moral and ideological slavery. No? No, I'm afraid not. Tell me, Alberto, do you have access to "me-de-santo"? Herr Zweig, it is highly illegal. The government forbids Umbanda. I didn't ask you for the party line, I'm simply wondering if you know one. I know of somebody who might help. I'll see what I can do. How beautiful you are tonight, Leonie. Sorry, I meant you're as beautiful as ever! Thank you, darling. Look, tell Yolanda that her cuddly favorite has come back. Look, that American, Welles. You see, Mr. Zweig? I carry it wherever I go! One night in NY, I drank... I literally drank your book... your love poem to Brazil... along with two bottles of Wild Turkey! Naturally I pissed out that poisonous bourbon... but your description of paradise stayed right here... and right here. I was almost born in Brazil. Did you know that? No. But thank you for your kind words, Mr. Welles. I just wrote what I saw and felt. Besides, paradise is only possible when you look back. And don't we do that everyday of our lives? Mr. Zweig... "tudo Brazil"! - This means "all is Brazil"... - I know, I know. ...the wonderful country of the world! All is Brazil! All is Brazil! Good evening. Good evening. Every time I see these poor Jewish girls... my heart sinks. That's life, my dear. What could we do to help them? Nothing! The Jews themselves exploit them. You know, Welles practically lives here. He has fallen in love with our black girls. If you don't enjoy life, my dear, it becomes mournful. Good evening. You look gorgeous. In Brazil we say that men who sleep with whores... are the most faithful to their wives. She is ready for you. You just cares about luxury and wealth Everything you see you want Oh my God How I miss Amelia That's what you can call a woman Amelia had no vanity at all Amelia was a true woman Amelia had no vanity at all Amelia was a true woman Amelia had no vanity at all Amelia was a true woman Stefan? Who is this? Leave us alone! Well, Herr Zweig, this is me here. - I go up there. - Yes... - You will be okay on your own? - Fine, my boy. Fine. You're really too kind and generous to me. Don't worry. My dear, sweet young man, forgive me. I... I didn't.. Good night. Welcome home, Stefan. Petropolis, perhaps our home forever. It's not Salzburg nor London... but we are alive. Frederica... Frederica... "So many storms, such destruction at sea... and within each wave seen death's own eyes. " "So many storms, such destruction at sea... and within each wave seen death's own eyes. All the wars on land, such hypocrisy... this disgusting, compulsive enterprise! Is there a refuge for human frailty? Some safe port for our ephemeral lives... where serene skies unleash no well-armed squall... to rage against creatures... that are so small?" Good morning, Frau Lotte, Herr Zweig. - Sorry for being late. - It doesn't matter, Lourdes. Thank you. "No further resistance possible. The whole British Empire hears news with deepest mourning. " Excuse me. What a disaster! Singapore is now in the hand of the Japanese. The whole world is at war... a war we are surely losing. And I have to go and see that Pontes fellow! I don't know what you're worrying about. He seemed a nice man to me. Why on earth does he want to see me this morning of all days? He knows I have tonight's lecture to prepare. Please, try to stop fussing all the time. Perhaps Pontes wants to discuss the visas. Besides, don't forget: we are just guests here in this country. Herr Zweig. Pleased to meet you. Take a seat, please. Santos Dumont is a grand Brazilian. He solved the mystery of flight before the Wright brothers. Brazilians, you see, not Americans... were the first humans to fly. So you say, yes... Herr Zweig, I'm sure... you didn't know everything about Erasmus, Fouch... Americo Vespucci, Marie Antoinette... Kleist, and yet you researched... and look what wonderful biographies you produced! I was interested in such characters. Let me explain something to you, Herr Zweig. Just for your own good, you understand. Brazil is an open country... made up of all races and creeds, including Jews... who live in harmony with each other. But we are also trying to build a new country... and it is very important how we are seen by the rest of the world. That Orson Welles character, for example. The Americans think we are ignorant and stupid. And they send that... that communist to film our slums... to film the worst aspects of carnival... a bunch of niggers jumping up and down like the Devil himself! Forgive me, but... is this president Roosevelt's good neighbor policy? To blacken the name of our government... telling Americans that Brazil is the Eldorado of poverty... lust and decadence? Mr. Pontes, I understand your concern... but, really, I cannot abide... simply cannot write to order. Are you afraid of losing your readership in the US, Herr Zweig? But, of course, take your time. I'm simply a middleman, a messenger of the President's will. Mr. Pontes... I thought we were meeting to discuss the visas... your government promised. Oh yes, for your Jewish friends in Germany. Herr Zweig... forgive me, but these are troubling times for us all. The world is at war. The President promised almost two months ago. They may not survive for much longer! Just one more thing, Herr Zweig, about this book. Santos Dumont's death. Perhaps you should omit... that one unholy matter. To put it in a nutshell, Herr Zweig: no one, in Vargas's Brazil kills himself. Like all geniuses of his kind... my eulogy may cause this talented Austrian... of noble lineage some embarrassment. But I need not tell you what an honor it is... to have this rare opportunity... to hear the man who "reinvented" our country with his book... "Brazil: Land of the Future". Stefan Zweig... is an example of the unyielding, unbendable intellectual. This man is an example of resistance and moral coherence... when many others prefer to conform or abandon ship. This man is a true champion. Please let's welcome Herr Stefan Zweig! Please, girls. Please. Hurry up. Hurry, hurry! Quickly. Thank you. You can put it here. There. Thank you. In these times... we live through facts excessively quickly... and we live through too many facts... to remember them properly. I am unable to identify... the "I" of my passport... with that of the writer in permanent exile. A man without a country, ironically, is a free man. Our country has been taken by your pal Vargas! He's right! Put yourself in our place! Some of you... question my devotion to freedom. Well, I've always spoken publicly against oppression... against the violence that dictatorships wield. Against the suppression of freedom... which I have known, believe me, all too frequently in my life. I have no freedom! What about Vargas?! It is impossible for anyone to remove himself from the world. - Quiet! - Respect! But I think an artist should never subjugate himself... to any party or to the ideology in fashion. He who allows himself to think freely... honors freedom on earth. Jew, out! My book has been misunderstood. It's so unfair. Don't they see he's telling the truth? Lotte, it's unbelievable! Utterly disgusting! Please, Stefan, get off the stage. You don't deserve this. I'm just a poet. There are no campaigns, no praise in my book. I've seen good and bad and I've written about both. What about political prisoners? Why don't you challenge Vargas's dictatorship? Tell him to stop! Tell him to stop talking. This is absurd! Go home, Jew! Thank you, Herr Zweig, for such a stimulating speech. The greatest task in life is to know how to be yourself! Get out of here! Vargas's lackey! It was a shambles! I was a disaster. No, Stefan, you did right. You stood your ground. Do they really believe that I'm one of Vargas's lackeys? That I actually support this dictatorship? They just don't understand you. What they say about Vargas is true, it's undeniable. But does it impede me to do business with him? No. I must keep pushing him and Pontes. If I distance myself of the regime, it will never happen. Now they want that rotten book! God! I don't know, maybe we should have stayed in Europe. Maybe we could have done more there. Stefan, my dear. What practical good could you have done back home? You work here is far more important. Your words are your weapons, darling. You are fighting! Maybe you are right. Now, please, come to bed. You must sleep. Tomorrow we have that awful visit... to the Immigration Office with Faerman. In a moment, dear. In a moment. You're a great man, Stefan. I love you. Now, don't worry, Herr Zweig, Frau Zweig. This is just a way for Pontes to show off his power. It's a regular procedure... concerning all German and Italian immigrants. But with the Jews he's always extra vigilant. I'm glad to hear he's so concerned about us. This way, please. Thank you. Thank you. Each month you must come and present yourself... to just that you are still here and still alive. You see, Herr Zweig? Pontes wants you alive. Amusing, how very amusing. In tsarist Russia, it was only the prostitutes... who received yellow cards. Please, Herr Zweig, that's a bit strong! Really, Stefan... must you behave like an anxious little boy? Lotte, please, try to understand... she's my only source of intellectual material. Is it from Frederica again? - Good morning, Herr Zweig. - Good morning. Good morning, Herr Zweig. A special delivery from NY. I'm sorry. It's open. You can't image how exciting it is. The mail is my only link left with the outside world... if some government censor gets to read it first. I understand. - See you. - See you, Herr Zweig. "Dear Steffi, it was good to hear from you. Here are the books on Montaigne you requested. I searched every bookstore in NY for them. It's freezing here now. How I miss Salzburg! It's good to know that distance has not separated our hearts. I forgive you for leaving me... but has not forgotten the pain you caused. The chapters of your autobiography I received... tell me little of you... hiding once again behind History. It's a pity, I'm sad to say... but you have forgotten me, too. Even so, I still love you... even desire you sometimes. Love and kisses, Frederica. " Lotte! Lotte, can't you control that bloody wretched dog?! Lotte! "My darling Fritzi, what a pleasure it was... to receive your letter and the books... for which I send you many thanks. Letters are getting fewer. It seems my friends have forgotten me. Here, we are having a wonderful carnival week... an extraordinary, magical, sensual event. But my mind is far away from such things. I cannot let myself be swept along by... this wave of pleasure and drunkenness. The catastrophe back home makes all joy impossible. You'll be happy to know I'm writing again. It's a strange novel... like nothing I've written before... about this game which has no element of luck. " Should I get it? No, no. I will take it. Yes? Stefan, is president Vargas! Hurray, Lotte! We've succeeded! We've succeeded! The President is in the fountain garden... at this moment, with the pupils of the Public Junior School. At one-thirty pm, lunch will be served in the President's private dining room... but he wishes you to join him first in the garden. After lunch, you'll be driven home. Mr. Zweig, I hope you do enjoy your conversation... with our grand leader. Madam. Sir. Vargas! Vargas! Vargas! Vargas! You can go, please. Herr Zweig, Frau Zweig... ...what a wonderful surprise! - Mr. President. Those children, Herr Zweig, are the future of Brazil... and they have inherited a proud past. This country has never been stronger than it is right now. My government is here for all people... not just for the elite. Yet I'm still criticized, Herr Zweig. Can you explain that to me? With respect, Mr. President... you have also abolished all opposition parties. Yes, the communists and the fascists. You censor the newspapers... and you imprison those who speak out against you. Herr Zweig, have I imprisoned you? Did you not speak badly of my regime in public? Since the First World War... only the US has taken more of your people to live... and earn money than Brazil. Did you know that? So? I really appreciate your continued consideration of the visas... which, I believe, are yet to be sent. Yes, yes. Please, let's listen to the music. My God! You know... us Brazilians are a very mystical people. Like anybody else, I'm both a skeptic and a believer... in signs and messages. Do you dream often, Herr Zweig? I do. I'm having awful nightmares. Have you ever dreamt of being dead? Or even taking your own life? It's terrible... believe me. Mr. President, forgive me... but they say that one dreams of one's own death... it means you will have a long life... that death is still far away. Perhaps, Frau Zweig, perhaps. But I worry about... about my future... and about the future of this country. I am Brazil and Brazil is me! It's an incarnation of my strength, of my will. I'm afraid that death will grasp me... and all my plans and projects for my people... will disappear with me. My friends, perhaps I'm being too dramatic! No, not at all, Mr. President. Tell me, Herr Zweig... how is the research on Santos Dumont coming along? Pontes told me you've taken to the idea... of writing his biography. Not a word about the visas. Damn Vargas! He's like Salazar: only words, promises, dissimulation. The Portuguese are masters in dissimulation... and Vargas is an excellent pupil. So... Now... am I supposed to become a mere court scribe... bargaining for lives according to the wishes of the little dictator? To hell with Santos Dumont's flight! Stefan, please speak low. Him and that worm of his, Pontes... think they can force me to write what they want! She's saying that she has been waiting for you. So much running from yourself... from your people. You must heal your soul of bad thoughts. Your pan is not here. On the other side of the earth... that's where your devils lie. An older woman is going around your head. She's calling you... while the other one means a Calvary for you. She senses... you have dark plans in your mind. You should turn your back for all this. You should find a new direction in your life. She's saying that after we die... we enter a time that existed before we were born. Therefore, what importance can have death? She's asking you to listen carefully: no one dies before his time. They'd given me the day off. Such nice people. But this... this is awful! How could she know of these things? There were moments when I felt was reciting... passages from Montaigne's "Essays". Reincarnation is an important part of Umbanda. Our other lives in other eras... even in other planets, they affect this one. Maybe she was reading my mind. Maybe it was telepathy. I have Montaigne in me from head to toe... I even dream about his thoughts. But I suppose telepathy is no more plausible than reincarnation. Just does make sense. These things cannot be explained... in the light of reason, Herr Zweig. Either you accept them or you don't. I believe in them and it's sometimes frightening. Their powers of premonition are terrifying. It means that everything is preordained... that everything is already said and done. That's one of the reasons I stay away from it. Please, you don't believe that, do you? That everything is all laid-out? No, I don't. And that's a problem. Our belief system can't explain what happened. We shun the inexplicable, they embrace it. Who's to say who's right? I'm sure they find our believes just as baffling. They live in one world, we live in another. But last night the two worlds met... and it was more exhilarating than either one alone. You should have seen you face, Stefan. It was like you were somewhere else. How could she know about my most intimate past? How could she? A toast... to Stefan Zweig, the voodoo Jew of Brazil! Cheers! I admit I am defending a serious breach of doctrine... but Herr Zweig is a special case. He has offended a natural law: "God gives and only God takes away". It applies to all of God's people... but, gentlemen... Herr Zweig was one of our greatest. He attempted to safeguard our History... our culture in his work. But my only fear, Sholem, is that it will set a bad example. By allowing him to be buried in the Jewish cemetery.. we will make an example of his life rather than his death. The Jewish community will be watching. A proper burial is a more fitting end... than the one he chose for himself. I agree with Sholem. Now more than ever, we must look after our own. Herr Zweig should be buried in the Jewish cemetery here in Rio. Agreed? Very well then. Now we must go to Petropolis and tell them our decision. But we have a problem to face: Herr Zweig was affiliated with the Vargas regime. Thank God you're here! We're having a terrible time in there. Even when he's dead, Herr Zweig is a victim of injustice! They're using him as a political football! Who's responsible for the funeral rites? - We'll sort it out right now. - His coffin! His coffin is open! There are flowers and wreaths all over the place! It's an absurd! What are we going to do? Calm down. Calm down, Mr...? Teitelbaum. Israel Teitelbaum. Mr. Teitelbaum... let's try to resolve this peacefully. As Jews, we must take great care. By all means, rabbi, by all means. Rabbi. Excuse me, rabbi Pech. I'm sorry, but the request of the government authorities... I would like your approval. I have already agreed to send the bodies to a non-Jewish cemetery... ...here in Petropolis. - No, no, no! We've come all the way from Rio to grant the Zweigs burial... on sacred Jewish ground. They will be buried in Rio, in the Jewish cemetery. Really, Rabbi Koning! Wherever a Jew is buried the ground itself becomes blessed. Mr. Pontes, I am here on behalf of the Jewish community... Mr. Pech... did Herr Zweig leave any instructions as to where he wanted to be buried? - Not that I know of, but... - Without explicit instructions... the matter is far from settled. Herr Zweig was a prominent member of the Jewish community. President Vargas wants to honor Herr Zweig... and his wife with a proper State burial... here in Petropolis. Now, as far as I know, and I knew Herr Zweig quite well... he never made a point of his Judaism. In fact, I am surprised by your zeal. They will be buried here, Mr. Pech, not in Rio. As for Herr Zweig's religious practices, Mr. Pontes... they are better left to heavenly judgment. His burial should be decided by the community. I believe I can resolve this dispute. These are Herr Zweig's last wishes... written in his own hand the day before yesterday. "I wish to be buried with full Jewish rites... in a small, simple ceremony in my beloved Rio de Janeiro. " So, there you have it. The ghost of Herr Zweig affirms his faith. He is Jewish, Mr. Pontes. And we, the rabbis, will allow him to be buried... in the Jewish cemetery in Rio. I saw him only yesterday. He said he was going on a journey. Maybe he was trying to send a message... and we didn't get it. - Do you know how they did it? - No. There are rumors that they took rat poison... God! ...but Vargas has forbidden an autopsy. He claims that he wants to respect their privacy. Dictatorships don't like autopsies. Poor Lotte! She was so young, and such a good companion. I don't know what could have been so bad... as to make them do this. You know when I first knew the real Stefan Zweig? When I read your biography of that suicidal poet, Kleist. I thought, this man must have died once... to have so much understanding and empathy. It's a blessing we're together. "Now it's all in order. The eternal intranquillity is at peace. That which is destroyed finds itself in complete union with the world. Because only he who has been torn to pieces... feels the desire for perfection. " "Eventually my frenzy mounted... during the game itself. I did nothing else from morning to night... to such a pitch that I couldn't sit still anymore. The driving desire to win, to dominate, to defeat myself... gradually became a kind of madness. How this horrible, unspeakable situation came to a head... I cannot tell you myself. All I know is that I woke up one morning... and the process was suddenly different. It was as though I was outside of my body. I don't know how much thought I've given... to the intellectual character of this royal game. But it's absurd, logically speaking... to want to play against yourself. " "Dear President Vargas... the delicious lunch was only matched by the sight... of those wonderful Brazilian children. I must return, however, to a graver topic... namely the matter of the homeland. The slaughter of Jews continues. My personal, lifelong dream of a free, united, democratic Europe... a continent without passports, has been snuffed out. Barbarism is everywhere. " I appeal to you once again to approve our plan... for a Jewish homeland in Brazil... an act of humanity which would give life... to those who face certain death! Good morning, miss. Good morning. - How are you today? - I'm very well, thank you. And thank you for the lovely gift. It's the least I could do. I think I'd like to buy some stamps. How about three sheets? Three sheets? My! You must have many friends. Can I get the ones with the animals and the birds on them? They really are beautiful, aren't they? Yes, they are. But they're only stamps. The real ones are all around us... and I would rather see the real thing. - Goodbye. - Bye! Well, but Brazil has been such a wonderful new home... for some many refugees. And not just now, but for more than a hundred years. It's a country of immigrants. Do you really believe that it's been... a welcoming home for the Jews? Well, yes. Yes, look at us! Aren't we doing okay? Mr. Faerman, don't you think it's time... to take off your rosy glasses? Look here, you were treated differently. As Jews, you arrived with money, with contact, with education. What about the hundreds of Jewish prostitutes... in the streets of Mangue's brothel? Brazil hasn't been good to them. Jewish prostitutes? It's true. These women were brought to Brazil from Poland... your country, Lotte... from France, from Germany, brought under false pretenses. Have you ever heard of the Tzi Migdal, the Jewish crime syndicate? They are responsible for it. A member of the organization proposes to a young woman... she accepts, they travel to South America... to begin a new life, and when they arrive, the trick is revealed. She is forced into prostitution. That's horrible! Someone should do something about it. It's not possible. The Tzi Migdal is too powerful. "Let there not be a whore amongst the daughters of Israel!" Stefan! What? It's a fact. Jewish prostitutes are made by Jews. We seem to be the whipping whores of the world these days... and still we are punished by our own people. Attention to this newsflash: a German submarine has attacked the Brazilian steamship Buarque... off the coast of the US today. The brutal and coward aggression has caused many deaths. This is the first reprisal by the Axis Alliance... since diplomatic relations of the Brazilian government... with German and Italy were broken last month. The war has reached paradise. When we left Liverpool for NY... the ship's captain visited our cabin. He explained that our trip would be a highly dangerous one. The sea was full of Nazi submarines. Stefan and I knew that, but we listened to him... not really understanding where he was getting at. Then, without any further explanation... he deposited two little capsules in Stefan's hand. He said he had to do it... and had already done so with most of the other passengers. It was his duty, but it was an official matter. In case of attack, each of us would have the chance... I think I meant "choice"... to die by swallowing the cyanide capsules... rather than being drowned or captured. This world of ours can be a peaceful world As in this night when people everywhere Gather in prayer to our Lord above Most guiding light shows us the way to love This silent night The world of ours is one And everywhere the hand of God's become The greatest might our world has ever known The wondrous sight No one is not alone Stefan is unhappy and there's nothing I can do about it. Maybe he needs to be left alone. But it's getting worse. What if I were to lose him? Lose him? I think the guilt is driving him away. He's closing in on himself. Lotte, we are all suffering from this war, being in exile... but we shouldn't feel guilty about being alive. We are alive, but we are orphans. The last thing we have is each other. And that's what I don't want to lose, what I can't lose... and I am losing him. Is he planning on leaving? Do you know that he once asked Frederica to die with him? The answer was... "If you want to die, do it by yourself. Why do you need company?" I'm sorry, but it's just so true! It's okay, really. It doesn't matter. Come here. Look what I've brought you, honey. This is the world... your world... the world beyond Brazil. What? You don't like them? No, they are beautiful. The world that you'll never see again. Never again. But that will be good for me because I will have you forever. Sorry. I'm joking. I'm just feeling giddy. I said I'd write your Santos Dumont book. Now, where are the visas? Just tell your people to do something. Now! Or else... Or else what, Herr Zweig? You won't write the book? But you yourself said they are two separate issues. The truth is you need to write a successful book in this country. "Brazil: Land of the Future" was an enormous success here... it sold hundreds of thousands of copies. Even that walking cash register Faerman was thrilled. Oh, Faerman! A very good salesman. You're lucky to have him working for you. Now, Pontes, Faerman is not the point. But he is, Herr Zweig, he is. Who do you think bought all those copies? You honestly think that, in a country of millions of illiterate... many Brazilians were interested in the opinions of a foreigner? What? Let me show you something, Herr Zweig, just between the two of us. Please. Look, Herr Zweig. I mean... you couldn't... Couldn't what, Herr Zweig? You couldn't! They had a saying in England which I always liked very much. Now I'm not so sure. They used to say, there's no fool like an old fool. Lotte? You startled me. What are you still doing up? You know I can't sleep until you're home. I'm sorry, dear. It's just that I got distracted with that vile creature Pontes. God! I'm beginning to hate that man. He's so slimy that he leaves a trail. I know. It's okay. Let's get you to bed. Stefan? Stefan? Lunch is ready. God, the water is practically freezing. We have just received word... that the Germans are refusing to recognize the visas. After Pearl Harbor, you know, everything became more difficult. They will not allow your friends to leave for Brazil. It's out of our hands, Herr Zweig. There's nothing more we can do. But we have already tried again. The war is changing. This was our last and final chance. I'm afraid that won't be possible. The President is in negotiation with the Americans... for the next two weeks. If you had some sort of arrangement with president Vargas... I have not been made aware of it. So, we'll take up this matter another time. For now, I'll let you go back to sleep. Good night, Herr Zweig. God, why have you forsaken us? How could I have trusted a dictator again? I'm so ashamed! Damn Salazar! Damn Vargas! Idiot! What an idiot you are, Zweig! They are dead. They're all dead. The Cohens... The Fleishers... The Brauns... all of them... What do you mean, Stefan? How do you know? Because Pontes told me... that the Nazis won't recognize the visas. That's if Pontes ever even sent them! So that's the end of it for them. - But the President... - Vargas? That spineless creature, that dissimulated character? As far as he's concerned, we don't exist anymore either. Why did I marry you? Was I lying to myself? God! How worn-out you look, exhausted by life... wounded... The vanity of it! God, Stefan! How could you be so cruel? You've never really forgave yourself for leaving Frederica, did you? An attempt to kill the illness of old age. Check mate! Lotte! My dear Lotte. Once I was in a travel bureau in London... the place was filled with refuges, almost all Jews. And all of them wanted to go somewhere, anywhere. They just wanted to go to another place. Anything was better than where they were. I knew at that moment, with a terrible clarity... what the future would hold. You saved me. And the future has come to past. This nightmare without end. I had hoped that, naively, for something else... I really believed I could make Vargas do something... despite all the signs, all the warnings. I have ignored my inner voice for quite some time now. Lotte... I'm through. There's still time for you. You have youth and hope. These last things I don't have. Stefan, you know I've loved you since we first met. I love you more than myself. I just want to be sure. Isn't there any other way out? Are we condemned? Is this what you really want? I think you should be the first to know... but I tell you under strictest confidence. So please don't say a word to anyone until after we have gone. I don't understand. What about your work? Your Montaigne biography and "The Royal Game"? Aren't they ready to go to the publisher? I would say... at this moment our absence is more important. When will you be back? Our plans are a little hazy. Lotte is sick, I'm exhausted. All of the excitement has made me tired. I mean no offense, Herr Zweig... but aren't you just running away? You know, Alberto... it's not only plants and teeth that can't live without roots. Men and women are not better off. Well, I suppose the war can't last forever. No, my friend. All things must come to an end. "Dearest Frederica... by the time you receive this letter, I will be feeling much better. Although I'm writing this letter in my last hours... you can't imagine how happy I am. Please don't grieve for me. Be cheerful knowing that I'm happy and at peace. I have not felt so good, so vital... and so full of purpose for many years now. My decision is a relief and a release. Please accept my love and friendship. Forever yours, Stefan. " Here we are. Thank you, Herr Zweig. Thank you. This is okay. This is the last fitting, Herr Zweig. In a week you'll be able to show it off... to receive from the President the visas for our friends. Fine. I hope so. The cut is a little bit different in Europe nowadays. It's more classical. If you could do the same as the suit my wife brought in... I'll try to do the best I can, Herr Zweig, and a little bit more. We're twenty years behind here in Brazil... excuse me... but we are the kings of a perfect imitation. Wonderful! Wonderful, Herr Zweig! Good evening, friends. - Welcome. - Thank you for the invitation. Welcome, Hubert. Well, you're in a good mood! Yes, I am in a good mood. Must be a prospect of a journey. So, what's all this I hear about you two taking off again... on a mysterious trip? Hubert, I've been thinking... I remember when I first came to Brazil, back in '36. I felt I had already been here or at least a part of me had been. Dorothea, Hubert. Thank you for coming. The first gift I ever gave to Frederica... sorry, honey... back in 1912 or 13, was an ashtray... with one of those amazing blue butterflies in it. It was very pretty, exquisite. Frau Lotte? Frau Lotte? Dinner is ready. Thank you, Lourdes. Shall we? Where was I? Yes. Well, to make a long story short... I didn't realize then that the poor butterfly... didn't deserve to be encased in glass. You never cease to amaze me, Herr Zweig. You're as erratic as the flight of a butterfly. But that's what I like about you. May I? - Thank you. - You're welcome. Thank you, sir. Thank you. Perhaps it's time for a toast. To the flight of a butterfly! Hello? Who is it? Just a minute, please. Herr Zweig, it's Mr. Faerman. He needs to have a quick word with you. Dorothea, Hubert, my dear Lotte, pardon me for a second. Yes, Jonas. Good evening. Don't worry. Oh, dear! Have you called a doctor? Good, good. No, no problem. I'll give your apologies to Lotte. Yes, it's a pity we can't say goodbye personally. Yes, the manuscript has gone to NY. I called it "The Royal Game", "Schachnovelle". Do you like it? You'll get a copy tomorrow. I think so. In fact, I think it's the best I've ever written. Yes, yes. And to Hannah, too. Farewell, my friend. Keep me in your thoughts. No matter what happens. We have gifts for you. But this is your grandmother's! Yes. Now you will never forget me. They look beautiful on you. Herr Zweig... do you think we should have stayed in Europe? Joined the Resistance? Fought like everyone else? At times I've been overwhelmed by guilt. At other times I've felt like there's no use feeling guilty... for what's already said and done. It's a permanent conflict that can't be resolved. In your case you were right to get out. You're no longer young and you've already done so much. Hubert, it's rather like when a couple separates. But here. These are yours. The original Montaignes. What? You have the complete set of originals? Yes, you know Frederica. She's always so zealous. She sent the missing ones to me. Isn't that great encouragement? It's like a sign from heaven. "The more voluntary death is... the more beautiful it is. Life depends on the will of others... death, on one's own will. " "The more voluntary death is... the more beautiful it is. " My dear friend... do you really believe this? I don't know. I don't know. But... who knows? Only you, old virus. My loyal companion for some many years. My old, indestructible virus. You're the only thing that enchants me and doesn't abandon me. My invisible mirror. Yes... my invisible, unshakable mirror. - Have I forgotten anyone, Lotte? - No one, dear. Did you check carefully? I've made coffee. I can heat up some milk. No, no. Black's fine. "I want to give heartfelt thanks to this wonderful country... which has been for me and my work... so good and hospitable a resting place. Every day I have learned to love this country better... and nowhere would I more gladly have rebuilt... my life all over again... now that the world of my native tongue has perished for me. " One would need special powers to begin completely afresh. But now that I'm 60... my reserves are exhausted after long years... of homeless wandering. "It seems to me, therefore, better to put an end... in good time and without humiliation... to a life in which intellectual work... has always meant the purest joy and personal freedom... earth's most precious possession. I greet all my friends! May they live to see the dawn after the long night is over! I, all too impatient, am going on before. " "Lourdes, please look after the plants and don't let the orchids die. Today, for the first time, Dorothea, I feel happy. I'm not afraid anymore. I freed myself from the torture of pity and self-pity. " "I don't hope for posterity through my life's works. My last look embraces the supreme beauty... of paradise lost. " With the sudden, tragic death of famous European writer... Stefan Zweig... the world loses the voice which best described the grandeur of Brazil. Authorities and the people of Petropolis... attend the funeral of the author of "Brazil: Land of the Future". Representing president Vargas... his Minister for Press and Propaganda, Dr. Lauro Pontes. A close, personal friend of the deceased... he pays tribute to this great man. |
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