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Updated: May 11, 2025
No, there I agree with my colleague, the criminal banker. But tell me, Lisaveta, don't you think I am endowed with the eloquence of a Hamlet today?" "Are you through now, Tonio Kröger?" "No. But I will say no more." "Nor do you need to. Do you expect an answer?" "Have you any?" "I should think I had.
And the hateful and pitiful thing was that this soft and slightly malicious voice had the right of it, that time went on and days came when Tonio Kröger was no longer so unconditionally ready to die for the merry Inga as formerly, because he felt in himself the desire and the ability to accomplish in his fashion a quantity of remarkable things in the world.
About him it was quiet and dark. But from below the sweet, trivial waltz time of life came up to him muffled and swaying. Tonio Kröger sat in the North and wrote to Lisaveta Ivanovna, his friend, as he had promised. Dear Lisaveta, down yonder in Arcadia, whither I shall soon return, he wrote.
But when he had a mind to completely startle his audience, he would suddenly and without cogent reason leap high in the air, cut pigeon-wings with bewildering rapidity, trilling with his feet, so to say, whereupon he would return to this earth with a muffled thud which, however, shook everything to its foundations. "What an incomprehensible monkey!" thought Tonio Kröger.
"First couple en avant!" said M. Knaak, for a new figure was beginning. "Compliment! Moulinet des dames! Tour de main!" And no one can describe in what a graceful manner he swallowed the silent e in de. "Second couple en avant!" Tonio Kröger and his lady were the ones. "Compliment!" And Tonio Kröger bowed. "Moulinet des dames!"
But dose lobster-omelettes, you know, dat wasn't de ting, you'll see, for it's going to be a stormy night, de captain said so himself, and wit such an indigestible supper in your stomach dat's no joke ..." Tonio Kröger listened to all this complaisant folly with a secretly friendly feeling. "Yes," he said, "they eat far too much up here anyway. That makes them lazy and melancholy."
Tonio was silent, and his eyes grew sad. Had Hans forgotten, not to think of it again until this minute, that they were going to walk a bit together this noon? And he himself had been looking forward to it almost uninterruptedly since the plan was made. "Well, so long, fellows," said Hans Hansen to his comrades. "I'm going to take a little walk with Kröger."
The great novel was followed by a collection of short stories, Tristan , from which we have selected Tonio Kröger. A tragedy of the Renaissance, Fiorenza , develops the dualism between real life and artistic existence, between the proud joy of living and ascetic hostility to life, in two brothers of the house of Medici, Lorenzo and Girolamo, who are suitors for the hand of one and the same woman.
These sentiments of Mann's Tonio Kröger might animate one of Keyserling's characters, but Keyserling would never express them in such impulsive fashion. Mann is much more subjective than Keyserling. In all the experiences of his characters he is mirrored himself, and all of his writings make and repeat one and the same confession as the foundation of his art, the solitude of the artist.
It smelled a little of decay and also of the pitch of the fishing-boat against which Tonio Kröger leaned his back as he sat on the sand, turning so as to have the open horizon and not the Swedish coast before his eyes; but the light breath of the sea floated pure and fresh over everything. And gray, stormy days came.
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