Easter with König
It's another holiday, which means I'm going to make my favorite fictional Austrian go through the holidays as well. First was Fasching, now it's Easter! If I have to celebrate it, then so does König, except he gets to have a better time doing it!
I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d meet his family during Easter. It’s a tradition of his to go to his parents’ home during that time for a visit and a chat, he only sees them maybe twice a year, so he can appreciate having a small get together with them. He normally gets along well with his parents, but he’s lost most of the contact he had with them ever since he hit his mid 20’s, but he does look forward to seeing them. Naturally, he’d take you along for the ride, regardless of whether you actually know German or not. He can play interpreter for you, it’s not a problem for him. But if you know German already? All the better, that way his parents and you can just talk to each other with no problems. He does hope that you’ll get along with them, they did play an important part in his life when he was younger.
König genuinely hopes that you will like the traditional Osterjause*, though. He’s loved Easter for that reason, and for the freshly baked lambs, but mostly for the best Brettljause*. In fact, he’s probably called his mother two weeks before his visit to let her know what kind of meat and sausages to get for him and you as well so that there shall be plenty to go around. If you’re not from around, then you likely don’t know what a “Gsöchts”* or “Schweinsbratn”* is, but he will assure you that it’s something delicious. König could rave on and on about that one farmer’s “Hauswiaschtl”. In fact, if he can, he’d love to go to the farmer’s market on Friday with you just so he can get you something to eat. Not above grabbing some Bauernbrot* and Krenn* either while he’s at it. Mans needs his Krenn when eating his Osterjause. Although it will have been a while since he’s seen everyone, he will introduce you to all the farmers there since he knows a good chunk of them growing up.
Naturally, he’ll be drinking a few beers here and there as well. He’s Austrian, it’s in his blood. Will have you try everything off the plate, from the Nuss* to the low-fat Karree*. Loves having you with him and will actively try to involve you in any conversation there may be so that you get to talk as well. Again, it might be a bit awkward if you don’t know any German, especially since he’s not the most reliable translator, but you’ll get by somehow. His parents have been curious about you for a while now anyway and have been wanting to meet you.
Although he claims to be far too old for that sort of thing, he wouldn’t mind looking for an “Osterkerberl”* with you. It’s a nice tradition that he used to love as a child and he wants you to experience Austrian Easter with him, so he likely asked his mother to hide one for you somewhere around the yard so you can go find it. She won’t give you any clues as to where it could be found. It’s childish, but it’s a lot of fun. In fact, if König were to ask her to prepare a Kerberl* for you, then chances are she prepared one for him as well, for old time’s sake. And then the both of you, two fully grown adults, will run around the yard, looking for the basket. Once you found it, you had to admit it was rather cute, filled with a few hand painted eggs, some colorful chocolate, a baked lamb and some crafted chicks and bunnies. Clearly, his mother put in a lot of thought into what goes into such a small basket. In fact, even the “grass” was made of edible paper, it seemed.
König would feel somewhat stupid, looking for a basket of all things during Easter, but it did remind him of his childhood, so he wouldn’t outwardly complain. Besides, you walking up to him, all happy with your little basket, does something to him. The sight was just too adorable, so he’d likely ask you, the master sleuth, to assist him in his hunt. Once you’ve both found them, you’d return back to his parents’ apartment and continue just chatting while occasionally eating a bit of the Jause*.
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Osterjause - Food that’s been prepared for Easter. It usually consists of meat, sausage, cheese, tomatoes and horseradish.
Brettljause - Same as Osterjause except it can be eaten at any point during the year.
Gsöchts - Geselchtes - Salted and smoked meat.
Schweinsbratn - Schweinebraten - Specifically prepared roast pork, eaten cold in this context.
Hauswiaschtl - Hauswürstel - A hard sausage.
Bauernbrot - A special type of bread.
Krenn - Horseradish.
Nuss, Karree - Types of meat
Osterkerberl - Osterkörbchen - Easter basket, a basket filled with easter themed food. Sometimes has a gift in it as well, mostly for children.
Kerberl - Körbchen - A basket
Jause - In this context it refers to the Osterjause.
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reading Harlan Ellison's Deathbird Stories: A Pantheon of Modern Gods (fucking fantastic) and was immediately VERY surprised reading "On the Downhill Side"—pleasantly surprised and fascinated with this story, this 'two ghosts of New Orleans are involved with one another by the God of Love in their last chance for something better before eternity in limbo hits them both, also there's a unicorn there' story,—with the protagonist, Paul Ordahl, because his story is Gorrister's story.
"On the Downhill Side" can be found easy-like in online archives within the actual set of Deathbird Stories (unless someone wants to hunt down a signed vinyl audiobook)—and I'll actually transcribe a page or two under the cut for fun, but really all that needs to be said is that Gorrister's life history in the video game is almost entirely a play-by-play of Paul's, except instead of Glynis it's Bernice, instead of a truck driver he's an architect (and frankly how the 'bitch mother-in-law' gets into contact with him makes more sense here—because Paul was receiving an award and doing an interview at a televised architect's convention and she cross-referenced that with newspapers to find the convention hotel, all that), and instead of never quite caring he always seemed to love too much—among other things.
I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream was published in 1967, On the Downhill Side in 1972, the IHNMAIMS video game in 1995. wonder why things progressed the way it did in all that time in terms of how Gorrister's character was developed and changed. 'peace marcher and conscientious thinker to world-weary gave-little-damns-to-begin-with truck driver' and all.
do with that information what you will. 'd love to hear other folks' thoughts on this
ohh welcome to even more text okay here we go all standard content warnings for Gorrister's story apply (suicide and institutionalization mostly), just isolating some of Paul's dialogue once again from "On the Downhill Side" (1972) by Harlan Ellison (credit is important!)
"'My name is Paul Ordahl,' I told her. 'And the most awful thing that ever happened to me was my first wife, Bernice. I don't know how else to put it—even if it sounds melodramatic, it's simply what happened—she went insane, and I divorced her, and her mother had her committed to a private mental home.'"
"'Her mother was the one had her committed, you see. I only heard from them twice after the divorce. It had been four stinking years and I really didn't want any more of it. Once, after I'd started making some money, the mother called and said Bernice had to be put in the state asylum. There wasn't enough money to pay for the private home any more. I sent a little; not much. I suppose I could have sent more, but I was remarried, there was a child from her previous marriage. I didn't want to send any more. I told the mother not to call me again. There was only once after that…it was the most terrible thing that ever happened to me.'"
"'I was in New York,' I said. 'I was receiving an award at an architects' convention—did I mention I was an architect—yes, that's what I was at the time, an architect—and I did a television interview. The mother saw me on the program, and checked the newspapers to find out what hotel we were using for the convention, and she got my room number and called me. I had been out quite late after the banquet when I'd gotten my award, quite late. I was sitting on the side of the bed, taking off my shoes, my tuxedo tie hanging from my unbuttoned collar, getting reading to just throw clothes on the floor and sink away, when the phone rang. It was the mother. She was a terrible person, one of the worst I ever knew, a shrike, a terrible, just a terrible person. She started telling me about Bernice in the asylum. How they had her in this little room and how she stared out the window most of the time. She'd reverted to childhood, and most of the time she couldn't even recognize the mother; but when she did, she'd say something like 'Don't let them hurt me, Mommy, don't let them hurt me.' So I asked her what she wanted me to do, did she want money for Bernice or what…Did she want me to go see her since I was in New York…and she said God no. And then she did an awful thing to me. She said the last time she'd been to see Bernice, my ex-wife had turned around and put her finger to her lips and said, 'Shhh, we have to be very quiet. Paul is working.' And I swear, a snake uncoiled in my stomach. It was the most terrible thing I'd ever heard. No matter how secure you are that you honest to God had not sent someone to a madhouse, there's always that little core of doubt, and saying what she'd said just burned out my head. I couldn't even think about it, couldn't even really hear it, or it would have collapsed me. So down came these iron walls and I just kept on talking, and after a while she hung up.'
'It wasn't till two years later that I allowed myself to think about it, and then I cried; it had been a long time since I'd cried. Oh, not because I believed that nonsense about a man isn't supposed to cry, but just because there hadn't been anything that important to cry about. But when I let myself hear what she'd said, I started crying, and just went on and on till I finally went in and looked into the bathroom mirror and I asked myself face to face if I'd done that, if I'd ever made her be quiet so I could work on blueprints or drawings…
'And after a while I saw myself shaking my head no, and it was easier. That was about three years before I died.'"
"I remember the daybreak of the night I'd died. There had been mist. I had been a suicide.
My third wife had left me. She had gone away during the night, while I'd been at a business meeting with a client; I had been engaged to design a church in Baton Rouge. All that day I'd steamed the old wallpaper off the apartment we'd rented. It was to have been our first home together, paid for by the commission. I'd done the steaming myself, with a tall ladder and a steam condenser and two flat pans with steam holes. Up near the ceiling the heat had been so awful I'd almost fainted. She'd brought me lemonade, freshly squeezed. Then I'd showered and changed and gone to my meeting. When I'd returned, she was gone. No note."
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