
Lobgott Piepsam walks the pebbled footpath that runs beside the highway to the cemetery on a bright spring morning, dressed in worn mourning black, going to visit the graves of his loved ones. He is a ruined man: his wife, née Lebzelt, died after bearing a stillborn third child, his other two children died as well, and he has lost his post as a copying clerk at an insurance society through negligence brought on by drink. Self-contempt and drinking have fed each other until he is friendless and alone. As he walks, slow and brooding under his inflamed eyes and swollen red nose, a young cyclist comes speeding up the cemetery path, slows for him, and rides on past. Piepsam calls out a fabricated accusation, quoting a number as though reading it off the machine, and declares he will report the cyclist for riding on the path to the cemetery rather than the highway. The young man, amused and then irritated, argues that everyone rides there, and pedals off. Piepsam runs after him, seizes the tool-case under the saddle, and drags the bicycle to a halt, toppling it. The young man strikes him, knocking him back, threatens to break his neck if he interferes again, remounts, and rides away untouched. Piepsam, left alone, erupts into a prolonged fit of shouting and cursing after the vanished rider, hopping and gesturing wildly, his language sliding from furious insults about the cyclist's blue eyes and cap into drunken, half-religious ranting about sin, dissipation, and divine judgment. Children, laborers, mortar-women, and passing soldiers gather to stare as his tirade grows louder and more incoherent; a terrier howls at him. In the middle of his ranting he suddenly flings out one arm, cries his accusation once more, and collapses, his top hat flying off and rolling away. Two masons examine the unconscious Piepsam; one goes off for help while others try reviving him with water and brandy, without success. An ambulance wagon with two neat uniformed attendants arrives, and Piepsam is loaded onto a stretcher and driven away.
By Thomas Mann · First published 1900 · Genre: Psychological Fiction, Literary Fiction, Tragedy · 4,074 words
The path to the cemetery ran always parallel to the highway, always side by side, until it had reached its goal; that is to say, the cemetery. On the other side there were human habitations, new structures of the suburbs, part of which were still in process of completion, and then came fields. As to the highway itself, this was flanked by trees, by knotty beeches of a good old age, and the road was half paved and half bare earth. But the path to the cemetery was thinly strewn with pebbles, which gave it the character of an agreeable footpath. A small, dry ditch, filled with grass and wildflowers, extended between the two.
The Path to the Cemetery is listed on Textopian as a short story by Thomas Mann, dated 1900 CE.
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alcoholism · grief · death · loss · social decline · bereavement · self-contempt · despair · humiliation · psychological breakdown · alienation · Germany