Человек в высоком замке

           TheyoungGermangazedathimquestioningly,andsohesaidthesamethinginGerman.

           "NoGerman?"theyoungGermansaid,amazed,inaccentedEnglish.

           "IamSwedish,"Baynessaid.

           "YouembarkedatTempelhof."

           "Yes,IwasinGermanyonbusiness.Mybusinesscarriesmetoanumberofcountries."

           Clearly,theyoungGermancouldnotbelievethatanyoneinthemodernworld,anyonewhohadinternationalbusinessdealingsandrode—couldaffordtoride—onthelatestLufthansarocket,couldorwouldnotspeakGerman.ToBayneshesaid,"Whatlineareyouin,meinHerr?"

           "Plastics.Polyesters.Resins.Ersatz—industrialuses.Doyousee?Noconsumers’commodities."

           "Swedenhasaplasticsindustry?"Disbelief.

           "Yes,averygoodone.IfyouwillgivemeyournameIwillhaveafirmbrochuremailedtoyou."Mr.Baynesbroughtouthispenandpad.

           "Nevermind.Itwouldbewastedonme.Iamanartist,notacommercialman.Nooffense.PossiblyyouhaveseenmyworkwhileontheContinent.AlexLotze."Hewaited.

           "AfraidIdonotcareformodernart,"Mr.Baynessaid."Iliketheoldprewarcubistsandabstractionists.Ilikeapicturetomeansomething,notmerelytorepresenttheideal."Heturnedaway.

           "Butthat’sthetaskofart,"Lotzesaid."Toadvancethespiritualityofman,overthesensual.Yourabstractartrepresentedaperiodofspiritualdecadence,ofspiritualchaos,duetothedisintegrationofsociety,theoldplutocracy.