That Makes the World Go Round

That Makes the World Go Round

The narrator, Leontine, is a young French-American woman who works alongside her mother in a small New York millinery shop. Her mother, Maman, is a vivacious, sharp-tongued Frenchwoman whose family carries deep wounds from the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, during which Lorraine was seized from France. When Leontine falls instantly and completely in love with Willy Roeder, a kind, earnest German-American bank clerk, the match seems ideal in every way but one: Willy's father, Herr Roeder, is a proud, emphatic, sentimental German, devoted to his music, his pipe, his German cooking, and the memory of Bismarck. Maman and Herr Roeder represent, in miniature, the centuries-old antagonism between France and Germany, and their mutual contempt is vivid, fierce, and entirely genuine. Despite the obvious danger, Willy and Leontine marry, bound by a love so strong it overcomes every practical obstacle. They attempt to create a united household, bringing both parents under one roof. The experiment is a predictable disaster. Maman and Herr Roeder wage relentless, petty warfare. She mocks German cooking, German sentiment, and German music. He goads her over French military defeats and insists upon the superiority of everything German. They clash over Bismarck's portrait on the dining room wall, over pipe smoke, over competing recordings played at full volume. The household becomes a battlefield of shrugged shoulders, wrinkled noses, poisoned remarks, and explosive confrontations. Willy and Leontine, deeply loving toward both parents and toward each other, are ground between the two factions, exhausted and heartbroken, trying to absorb the blows from both sides without breaking. The crisis comes when Maman, cleaning the apartment during Leontine's illness, strikes Bismarck's portrait with a cake of scouring soap and cracks the glass. Herr Roeder enters at this exact moment and erupts. The confrontation escalates into one of their worst quarrels, ending only when Leontine, pale and trembling, rises from her sickbed and stands between them weeping, telling them they are killing her. Shamed into silence, both parents recognize that their behavior has real and serious consequences for the children they love. With surprising dignity and self-awareness, Maman announces that she will return to her rooms above the shop. She acknowledges that no one should impose themselves as a fifth wheel in another's household, and that the arrangement has been a mistake from the start. Herr Roeder independently reaches the same conclusion and takes rooms nearby. A careful schedule is arranged so that the two grandparents visit on alternating days and never have to encounter each other. The separation transforms both of them. Freed from the daily friction, Maman blooms. She redecorates her flat with charming taste, creates elegant hats that begin selling at serious prices, rediscovers her wit and beauty, and gradually becomes a figure of such independent vitality that she begins to visit Leontine and Willy as a treat rather than a burden. Herr Roeder similarly rejuvenates, grooming himself carefully, developing opinions about neckties, trimming his beard, and recovering his natural jovial warmth. Then the baby arrives, at Thanksgiving, a small, bald, magnificent grandson who reduces both grandparents to joyful incoherence. On Christmas Eve, Willy and Leontine bundle up the infant for his first outing and carry him to surprise Maman. They find her flat lit and festive, decorated with Christmas greens, Maman herself radiant in red with a poinsettia in her white hair. And settled comfortably in her new Morris chair, in a fine new smoking jacket, is Herr Roeder. The two parents explain, with great satisfaction, what has happened. After the household separation, loneliness drove Herr Roeder to Maman's door to apologize. He found her lonely too, and the small, beautiful home she had made for herself moved him. They talked, consoled each other, discovered genuine warmth beneath the antagonism, shared meals, taught each other their languages, and found that the great artistic and literary traditions of both countries, rather than dividing them, brought them together. Slowly, steadily, they fell in love. Three days before Christmas, without fuss or announcement, they married. Maman's first Christmas gift to her new husband is a handsome bust of Bismarck, wreathed in holly. His gift to her is a recording of the Marseillaise, played with pride. The story closes with both families gathered in the small decorated room, the baby passed between grandparents, and Maman making one final request of Leontine: that the child, her most beloved Christmas gift, be named Karl Johann.

By Marie Conway Oemler · First published 1912 · Genre: Romance, Literary Fiction, Domestic Fiction · 6,683 words

First lines

If I hadn't loved Willy more than any girl had ever loved any man before, I should never, never, never have had the wild courage to marry him, on account of my mother; and if Willy hadn't adored me to distraction, he would never, never, never have had the temerity to marry me, on account of his father. Not that there was anything in the least objectionable about Willy's father, or about my mother, who are about as dear, delightful angels as one shall find this side of Elysium. But -- divided, they stood; united, they simply fell upon each other, tooth and claw!

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That Makes the World Go Round is listed on Textopian as a short story by Marie Conway Oemler, dated 1912 CE.

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Tags

romance · family conflict · marriage · intercultural marriage · French American · German American · in-laws · comedy of manners · domestic fiction · New York · music · reconciliation

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