Kurt Palm: Strandbadrevolution.

Revolution on the Beach.
Sample text (pp. 80-82)

When I rode past the church on the way to Reisinger one evening, I did not believe my eyes. I knew that Mü was a dead loss in Latin, but the fact that he had written DEVLORA came as something of a surprise. Apart from that the word was barely legible, because some of the letters had blurred into abstract shapes. While I was looking at Mü's work of art, the parish priest came round the corner, followed by two workers in white overalls. They were carrying buckets of paint and brushes. I made sure I got away as quickly as possible. Even if I had a negative opinion of the Church, I found Mü's gesture rather silly. I did not have the slightest idea what he wanted to achieve by it.
But then it occurred to me that in school Mü had once made fun of the priest in front of the class. However, Mü had forgotten that the priest was on duty in the corridor and could hear everything through the open door. At the end of the break he stormed into the classroom with a bright red head and shouted, 'Müller, that will have consequences. I shall expect you at the headmaster's study when lessons are over.' As a result Mü was given a black mark for conduct, and his parents were summoned to the school. Mü's graffiti may have been a belated act of revenge.
'Fuck the Army is the name of a live show with Jane Fonda.' Candy bit into his cheese toast and wiped the remains of the ketchup from his mouth. He was the only one of us not eating fried sausages, as he had decided to become a vegetarian. 'Anyone who kills animals also kills people,' he said, citing Nikolai Gogol.
I asked him why there was nothing in the Volkstimme newspaper about the Fuck the Army thing. Now Candy really could take control.
'Donald Sutherland is in it too,' Candy went on, you know, the one who's in Klute with Jane Fonda.'
If Candy were now to tell us as well that he had already seen the film, it was possible that I would go mad on the spot. So I tried to turn the conversation in another direction. 'Perhaps we ought to organise a demonstration. There are demonstrations to show solidarity with Vietnam being held all over the place, why shouldn't there be one here at long last?'
Mü pulled a face. That won't shake anybody up. After an hour it'll all be over.'
'And what about your slogan?' I asked irritatedly. 'First it was barely legible and second you wrote deflora with a v instead of an f.'
'It doesn't matter. It's about the symbolic value.'
'So are we still going to do something, or how am I meant to understand that?' Taylor asked.
'But of course we are.' Candy took a Le Monde out of his rucksack and held it up in triumph.' There's rather a lot going on in Paris; there the discussion about the Vietnam war is being linked very closely with the political developments in France itself. Sartre's playing a key role there. On the front page of the newspaper there were red marks left by Candy's ketchup fingers; they looked like blood.
I furrowed my brow. 'Since when have you been so good at French that you can understand it?'
'What are there dictionaries for, mon ami?'
Slowly but surely Candy was getting on my nerves with his smart-ass talk, in particular when I remembered that I had a re-examination in September – in French of all subjects.
'What I want to say', Candy went on, 'is the following: we must think beyond the Vietnam war. To that extent I still think that the only correct slogan is “Subjects, rise up!” And of course it has symbolic value when a slogan like that is on the wall of a bank. That is something we must … '
'Can't you be a bit quieter?' Hendrix interrupted him. 'The whole pub doesn't have to know what we're planning. Besides, my aunt works in the bank. If she finds out that I'm involved in a campaign like that, then I can just pack up and go.'
Candy looked around. 'Where is there anybody anyway? All those bourgeois people are sitting outside in the garden getting drunk.'
'And when is the campaign going to take place?' I asked. I would definitely be for waiting a bit, because the police might be particularly vigilant in the near future because of Mü's graffiti.
'In a week's time I'm going on holiday,' Taylor said, 'and I won't be back until a fortnight from now.'
'Where're you going?' Mü asked. 'To Lignano', Taylor answered, without much enthusiasm.
Mü lifted his fist. 'Avanti populo!'
'By the way, Heike gave me this note for you today.' Out of the blue Hendrix held out a folded sheet of paper towards me. I was flabbergasted and needed a few seconds to realise what that meant. As it was a loose bit of paper, I could take it that Hendrix had long since read it. And the others probably had too.
'You don't need to turn red.' Mü laughed stupidly.
'How come? I mean …', I stuttered. I reached for the piece of paper and put it away.

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