Proceed to Extraction

"We must proceed to extraction," says the dentist to Thomas Buddenbrook*, and he answers "Very well, proceed, then”. The operation fails. The tooth is broken, before it is brought out, and the Senator dies shortly afterwards from the effects.

It went incomparably better with me today. The friendly and skilful Doctor Reitz got the back tooth out in almost no time and in only one piece, under a strong local anaesthesia. He also cleaned the part of the bone where the dead root had permanently inflamed the body and caused disorder.

I am sitting right now, three hours after surgery, almost pain-free in my house and am already planning what kind of meal I will mash in the mixer.

In the last few days the idea had frequently occurred to me that I could do like the Senator and decease after the operation. Those are the thoughts that torment people who read too much.


* In Thomas Mann’s novel „Buddenbrooks“. Original: „Wir müssen zur Extraktion schreiten“, sagte er nach einer Weile und erblich noch mehr. „Schreiten Sie nur“, sagte der Senator und schloß die Lieder noch fester.

Among immigrants, being an immigrant myself

For Erkan Saka’s sake who kindly put a link to this new blog I should add a little detail to my latest post: the quarter where my immigrant great-grandfather started his business in 1898 and where he lived until his death in 1939 is now one of the centers of the local Turkish population*. So I use to tell my children that our people were the first Turks in town.

I sometimes talk to my Turkish friend Necattin, whose father came to Cologne around 1965 about our mutual experience of being offsprings of immigrants. He of course denies that I am his equal, because my great-grandfather “only” immigrated within Germany. But he listens well when I tell him that my great-grandfather walked two days from his village 60 miles south of here, whereas it took Necattin’s father only three hours with Türk Hava Yollarι from Ankara.

The history of the worldwide migration from village to town is still unclear to most of us. Why did they all walk out from the beauty of a rural setting into the ugliness of modern cities? I am sure that the reasons why my great-grandfather and Necattin’s father went must have been pretty similar. I will try to find out more about both men.

*somewhat around 10% of the 120.000 inhabitants of Remscheid