Die Verwirrungen des Zöglings Törless by Robert Musil

Where Miklos Banffy spends nearly 1500 pages of his Transylvanian Trilogy chronicling the life of Hungarian nobility across their half of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy, in The Confusions of Young Törless, Robert Musil compresses much of the experience of the Austrian half into less than a tenth of that in a tale of life in a pre-WWI military academy. (Not to worry about Musil, though. His magnum opus, The Man Without Qualities, runs well past 1500 pages.) The academy is meant to be preparing the boys — co-education of girls was barely thinkable at that time, the first young Austrian woman having passed the general qualification for university studies just ten years before Törless was published in 1906, and co-education at a military institute was definitely not thinkable — for service to the empire, and to Kaiser Franz Josef who had reigned for more than half a century. Musil, though, is not interested in the routines of school, drills and lessons, or the kind of plot that drives many boarding-school novels. His subject is adolescence, the inner life of young Törless.

Indirectly, Musil also comments on the kind of education that was thought normal, even ideal, for the young men who would one day assume leading positions in Austro-Hungarian society. It could hardly be further from the contemporary approach shown, for example, in The Incandescent by Emily Tesh. First and foremost, the school is concerned with its own reputation; all of the students know that scandalous behavior will result in expulsion, most likely done over a break when the errant cadet would simply not return and no one would mention him ever again. Secondarily, the school is concerned with the appearance of good order in its routines. The book shows very little class time and a great deal of scuttling about at night, sneaking into inaccessible corners of the institute and occasionally visiting beerhalls or prostitutes in the adjoining small town. As long as the cadets return by curfew and do not bring the academy into disrepute, they seem to be allowed to do what they want. The teachers are not completely indifferent; when Törless reveals that certain mathematical constructions (imaginary numbers, for example) are causing him philosophical distress, the math lecturer receives him at home one afternoon, and talks him through some of the propositions and helps relieve a few of his worries. He also inspires Törless to acquire a copy of some of Kant’s works, which Törless tries to read on his own but does not make much headway.

Törless is at once thoughtful and clueless, not a great fit for a military academy. He writes to his parents almost daily, though the novel illustrates how he is beginning to separate from them without fully understanding what is happening. He joins in some of his cohort’s pranks, always as a participant and not as a leader. Early in the novel, a visit with a fellow student to a village prostitute shows that the boys are having their sexual awakenings at various speeds, and that they share even such private moments with their comrades. Törless views Bozena with a mix of awe, desire, and contempt. She, in her turn, is both motherly to and mocking of the boys who come to see her.

The confusions take a darker turn when Törless not only discovers that one cadet has been stealing from the others, but figures out who it is. To his surprise, two of the class leaders, Reitinger and Beineberg, have known for longer. The two of them had been rivals but had lately stopped intriguing against each other and teamed up to pursue their own desires. Beineberg thinks of himself as a deep philosopher exploring esoteric knowledge and approaching enlightenment through degradation, among other methods. He reminded me of some of the cosmic characters in Herrn Dames Aufzeichnungen, which takes place about the same time in Munich. Reitinger is more simply interested in domination, how much of it he can exercise and how far he can go.

The object of their undertakings is the cadet Barsini. He had run up debts to other cadets, borrowing from one to pay off another. Eventually he could no longer keep up the juggling, and he stole from one. Getting caught will mean expulsion, and Barsini is from a family with enough social status to get him into the academy, but not enough to gain him a second chance elsewhere if he is expelled. A mistake in high school will deny him forever the chance to make a career. The sink-or-swim attitude of the period, along with the certainty that consequences are only for people below a certain rank, are bluntly stated. Brought into this secret knowledge of Barsini’s guilt and that the other two have been aware of it, Törless at first sees no reason to do anything but turn him in and let the rules take their course. Reitinger and Beineberg spell out what that would mean for Barsini and his family, and persuade Törless to keep quiet. Now they have not only Barsini in their power, but Törless too, for what will he do if it comes out that he has known who is the thief but said nothing?

They all play at power games, discovering themselves, their darker sides (though they do not admit that to themselves), and just what they are willing to do or tolerate. Reitinger and Beineberg both take terrible advantage of Basini, abusing him sexually and psychologically. Beineberg says it is in service of attaining higher knowledge, with the path to salvation leading through great sin. Reitinger mocks his counterpart’s “hocus-pocus,” and simply exercises what power he can. But they share a bond, too, even if they do not or will not recognize it. Together, they want to make Törless into an ally and an underling, but separately they also want to share a tie with Törless that the other does not have. Törless, too, is driven by contradictory impulses. He likes being part of a hidden cabal, he’s attracted to the leading role that the others play, but he cannot fully submit. One night, when Törless takes Barsini to the secret clubroom that they have constructed in a hidden attic, Barsini presents himself naked to Törless, thinking that he should do as he has done for the other two. Törless is both attracted and repulsed. The relationship that they build is consensual, but still far from equal, and neither of them has any sense that same-sex attraction or sexual experimentation could be anything but shameful.

All of this is going on presumably amidst the usual course of classes and drills that would fill a cadet’s waking hours, but Musil shows almost none of it. Instructors and administrators are almost entirely absent. He focuses on Törless’ inner life, the confusions of an adolescent far out of his depth. Musil shows these developments with considerable skill, though in the style of the early 20th century. A contemporary book with similar subject matter would, I think, do far more showing of incidents, or even writing Törless’ thoughts directly, and far less narrating what Törless was experiencing. The style is another reminder that this is a book about another era, and from another era. The portrait of adolescence is close to timeless, even as it is tied to the very circumstances of an imperial-era military academy. Musil fell into obscurity during his lifetime, fortunately escaping Nazi persecution by choosing Swiss exile, and only rose to posthumous acclaim after the Second World War. Törless and The Man Without Qualities are both now considered classics of early modern German literature, though I suspect that Törless is much more widely read.