Posted on January 26, 2010 by Scott Esposito

We’ve been talking a lot about Swiss novelist Robert Walser this month as we count down toward Walser-translator Susan Bernofsky’s appearance at Lit&Lunch on Feb. 9. (RSVP now to save a spot!) You might have noticed in my interview with Bernofsky last week that she mentioned one Carl Seelig, a “guardian” of Walser when he was in the mental asylum:

SE: Since you’re working on a biography of Walser, I’d like to ask what you think of his decision to quit writing, which he made in 1933 when he had a full 23 years yet to live. Do you have any theories as to why he chose this, or if he would have been able to produce anything worth reading during that period of his life?

SB: It’s far from certain that Walser ever stopped writing. His guardian Carl Seelig says that when he asked Walser about returning to the literary life, Walser brushed off the idea . . .

Seeling, in fact, regularly conversed with Walser for over 20 years, and you can read a number of these conversations right now. He collected the them into a book called Wanderungen mit Robert Walser (”Wandering with Robert Walser”), published in German, French, and Spanish editions. Though there is currently no published English translation, Walser-fanatic Sam Jones, and some collaborators, have been translating a publishing a free version online.

For instance, here’s a bit from the meeting that occurred on April 15, 1943, which happened to be Walser’s 65th birthday:

I bring Robert some birthday presents, which he coldly puts aside. We have hardly left the sanitarium grounds when he asks me what I was doing so long with Dr. Pfister. I tell him that we were talking about common friends among the Zurich doctors. This explanation appears to calm him, but even so the morning walk to Degersheim and Mogelsberg, in the low Toggenburg, is rather monosyllabic. He doesn’t answer my cautious question about the operation, so I immediately change the subject so as not to irritate him any further. After lunch we go up in elevation in the Herisau suburbs and sit in the sun with three bottles of beer on a terrace, where he is more comfortable and chat with the almost mechanically clattering innkeeper. To finish up we go to a tea house, where he devours eight little tortes with gusto. When we part, he says, most likely in reference to his sickness:

“There have to be unpleasant things in life, so that the beautiful things stand out better. Worries are the best teachers.”

These conversations between Seeling and the notably romantic, unpredictable Walser make interesting reads for anyone, and they’re absolute necessities for the Walser fans out there.