A NEW GERMANY.

Dunstan Times, Issue 3130, 14 August 1922, Page 7

A NEW GERMANY.

(By an Observer.) The New Germany is full of surprises. To the foreign visitor, at first, the outward appearance gives no clue to the hidden realities. On entering the country, one’s chief impression is that of orderliness and prosperity. At Berlin, for instance 1 , the eye its struck by the gaiety of the town. Here hotels, res tail rants, and theatres are filled to overflowing, and the shops in the fashionable Unter den Linden, the “Rue de la Paix” of the German capital, offer an amazing display of alluring goods--enamel and jewelled boxes and cigarette holders—satin, velvet, and leather purees and vanity bags, ivory knick-knacks, and other “fantaises de luxe.” And there are many shops of this kind, all willing to display their dainty wares to the inquisitive passerby; side by side with these are the ever-crowned cinemas, picture galleries, and museums. So far, the superficial pre-war picture is complete; but it is lacking in one respect, for the all-pervading shadow of Imperialism is absent. Gone are the smart officers with glittering uniforms, the pomp and splendor of court, and the strident, imperious ring of the Emperor’s horn as, at break-neck speed, he raced down the Kiirfurstendamm and Unter den Linden to the Imperial Palace beyond. Vanished, too, is the flower of a proud aristocracy, who formerly peopled the hotels and restaurants, and gave the tone to play and operetta. To-day, only the nouveau riche, the “Schiebetr,” as the war profiteers are called, and the prosperous foreigner, with an inflated coinage, can afford to dine at the best table and buy .seats for the theatre. To the foreign visitor this is the first evident’ change, the revelation of a new era, the discovery of the New Germany. And the average audience at opera, operetta, or play, lie it light, serious, or classic', is indeed a revelation. The 1922 playgoer, or occupant of 'stalls and boxes, considers it unnecessary to change' or wash. Although rich and prosperous in appearance, he is certainly lacking in elegance or refinment. His artistic perceptions are practically non-existent; his wits, if any, chilled. The same can be said about the stage, which reveals a general laxity of morals, often a total absence of good taste; for both manager and performer have to adapt themselves to the new public. To-day it is almost impossible to cater for the moody and changeable proletarian ; unfortunately, the takings of the box-office are dependent on him to a great extent, and producers cannot afford to risk money on a possible failure. The most obvious and obscene joke is sure to please, and the house recks at the'least touch of vulgarity. In this respect, the tone of the new productions shows a' decided improvement when compared with the disgusting plays which found favor immediately after the revolution. There are, however, still a few theatres which remain untainted by social and economic upheavals. Of these, the State Opera. Houses, the State Theatre, which is the equivalent of the Comedie Erancaise in Paris, and Reinhardt’s Theatre present pieces, of the old school. Here 1 have witnessed performances admirable in every sense, artistic, musical, and dramatis; in many respects the best in Europe, with the exception of the opera in Auciina. As formerly, the old favorite classics are always favorably received, and music of every kind! is both understood and appreciated by the new audiences —a curious anomaly. Generally speaking, the old aristocracy is bankrupt. It lives very quietly and modestly, and takes no part in costly entertainment. Many of these unfortunates find it difficult to exist at all, owing to the exorbitant price of’ every commodity, and the inelasticity of a. small fixed income, which is unable to stretch itself to meet present requirements. Sons and daughters of these impoverished families are confen to occupy the humblest posts for the most modest salary, as bank clerks or typists, or in any other capacity, provided they can get work at all. Some of the Emperor’s immediate entourage are obliged to live in secluded obscurity in the country or at Potsdam. The present regime has behaved extremely well to these, in allowing them to retain their Imperial pay for five years. But many, in spite of this, relief, are in a state of dire poverty, owing to the depreciation of the mark. Of the field-marshals and generals of the old army, most have sunk into obscurity, but the great Hiudenlmi'g occupies a house in Hanover, which the town has given him in recognition his services. To a great extent militarism is dead. It is difficult for many of the old regime to adapt themselves to new conditions. For the most part they arc despondent, and feel that things are going from had to worse; others hope for the dawn of a better era, at a date possibly not too remote, or for Hie revival of a monarchy of some sort. At present, faced with acute realities, the most serious problem is lor all of them how to live, and the struggle lor existence pre-ocenpies the minds ol; file formerly prosperous, who realise that iu Republican Germany there is no place in the sun for the old regime unless they can find work to assist their inadequate means. But even a regular “job” does not provide its owner with a salary sufficient for his daily needs. Iu spite of its poverty, the German aristocracy clings together, and has formed a sort ol league in order to assist its poorest members. The “Abeisbuud” Noblemen’s League —undertakes to raise voluntary snbschiptions to give relief to the really destitute. A\ itli this purpose in view, each provincial town has formed certain districts, and brings the bard cases to the notice ol the members of this society. 1 know of instances in which several members of one family are obliged to share one room and a tiny sitting-room, their sole diet often consisting of vegetables. To these, the arrival of a rabbit from a country friend is a great luxury. It is the members of the aristocracy with the small fixed income, ample for prewar conditions, hut now insufficient to purchase the barest necessities ot life, that are the most to be pitied. Ihc same applies to the bourgeoisie, to professors, lawyers, doctors, and other member* of the “intelligentsia” who are m a state of dire poverty. Too proud to reveal their penury, they suffer m silence. The housing problem is acute, owing to the influx of fugitives and refugee.* from the occupied and annexed territories, such as Alsace-Lorraine Uppei Silesia, and parts of Poland, which belonged to Prussia and Posen. To meet these abnormal conditions, the magistrates of each town have taken the situation in hand, and have formed a bureau in order to control of all the bouses and flats available. AA.ithout the permission of these gentlemen no accommodation can be let, or disposed of, all contracts having to bear their stamp. To each person in each bouse is allotted one room, and the use of a common sitting-room. Any ownm of a spacious building, a large flat or bouse, is liable to have it commandeereel iit any moment. ]\fa.nv to have their own friends or relations quartered upon them ; others to ‘‘take, in” strangers. To many impoverished families this is a veritable source of income, and the arrival of “enforced ravine guests” is quite welcome. The condition of the country squire

is less precarious. Those of the old regime who were fortunate enough to possess a country house with a. few acres of land have retired to their estates, there to cultivate the land, economise, and live on their market produce. Generally speaking, the landowner is comparatively prosperous. To-day, in Germany, the possession of land is a. decided asset and a source of income, although it is only the richest who can afford to make a* splash in town, where they pay occasional visits. The poorer landowner cannot often allow himself this luxury. Indeed, he often feels a prisoner within his own walls, on account of the prohibitive railway falres, and hotel and restaurant expenses, while his wife would hesitate to replenish even the most modest wardrobe, for a dress material! alone is equivalent to the cost of an entire gown before the war! But his house ife comfortable, and he has enough to e'a.t, and often lives in much the same style as formerly. In this respect he is more fortunate than a town inhabitant with the same income. Undoubtedly, the lot of the average laborer or artisan is more to bo envied, than that of the middle classes. Yet although benefited by a rising scale of wages adjusted to the increased cost of living, ho is unable to set anything aside Tor the future, being obliged to expend all his earnings on his living expenses,- which increase daily. The. working classes as a whole have nob much confidence in the present Government, but they are relieved to feel a greater sense of freedom, and are glad that militarism is practically dead —for the present, at any rate! There is little unemployment, as tho.-e in power consider that “it is preferable to work for the enemy than to be faced with the demon of iijnemployment.” The working man himself realises that the world belongs to those who work, not to those who loaf. He lias put his shoulder to the wheel, and strives to be fairly contended, ever in the hope ol something better in the future. Amongst the most prosperous of “new rich” is the gentleman farmer. Having contrived to make money during the war by selling his market produce at an exorbitant price, he is now extremely well-to-do, and could afford to live in princely state if he chose—in fact, in much better style than many a Germany prince of to-day.