the start, without any special introduction, what your metaphysical missions consist of? What do you actually do?”

“I wish,” she stated simply. “Nothing more than that. I accept commissions from the well-to-do to make wishes.—Wishes, intensely cultivated, intervene in the course of events. Wishes have power. But most people are powerless, or too lethargic, to wish for themselves. I make myself available to people like that for a moderate fee with my tried-and-true wishing power. I integrate their wishes into my schedule and wish for them, intensely and confidently. They are unburdened, depression drains away from their souls, they can go to the theater, to a concert, to balls, with the reassuring feeling that their issues, their wishes, are in the care of an experienced professional …”

“So what do you wish for, Madam? Perhaps some examples.”

“Mostly death and destruction,” she said, with a friendly smile. “Loss of assets, loss of face, and a bit of damage. For one person I wish for someone to defraud a business, for another I wish for a minor but annoying skin disease. The wishes, especially those of my female clients, get quite elaborate. Loss of a piece of jewelry, hair loss, rapid weight gain—think of that as my bread-and-butter work. There are people who have read older books of magic, have trained with Eliphas Lévi or Papus and consequently cling to a strict ceremonial. I don’t think much of that, but I let them have their fun. They hand over photographs of their enemies, instruct me to pierce them with a gold needle or to put a hex on little wax figures that symbolically represent their adversaries. The main point remains concentration, focusing the will squarely on the goal.”

“And are you successful? I mean: are your wishes fulfilled, or rather, those of your clients? Can you earn a living from your odd profession?”

She made an elegant sweeping motion with her hand. “Take a look around you! Don’t you see people everywhere on the street talking loudly to themselves, gesticulating with their hands? What are these people doing? They’re wishing. Fervently! Ardently! Wishing for death and destruction, misery and meltdown. They believe in the destructive power of their wishes, take comfort in it, and gain the courage to face life. Don’t you think that’s a vital need just crying out for gratification? Which can be the focus of an adequate business? How about the women who tell fortunes using a deck of cards? That’s surely no different. In earlier times, people were content just to put a curse on the milk of a cow or to cast a spell on the fields. Life has become more multifaceted; the opportunities have expanded. You’ve got trade, industry, a monetized economy. But the human soul has essentially remained the same. You can call me a modern witch if you like …”

She took out her compact and a mirror and applied some rouge to her cheeks.

“You won’t believe me on all this,” she continued, “but what I am telling you is absolutely true. I have put the so-called chasms of the soul to good use. The first time it was a joke, a whim. At a gathering I offered my services in jest, wishing, on behalf of a busy business tycoon, for his enemy to have a car accident. Two days later, it came true. Word got around. People I didn’t know came to my apartment in secret, and carefully felt their way into conversations about the accident. They told me I had been recommended to them, they would like to … one could … occult influences … metaphysical missions. I knew enough. Today I make a living from this.”

“And your conscience?”

“Criminal charges would never stick. Witchcraft no longer counts as a crime in our oddly enlightened age, even though I think that over time a provision on this issue will need to be reinstated in the penal code. And theoretically, the effect is truly the same whether I’m the one doing the wishing or my clients are. Basically the whole thing comes down to what you believe …”

“Can you show me a list of your clients?”

“No, discretion obviously prevents me from doing that. But you’d be amazed at what sorts of people seek me out. People who occupy prominent positions in public life. People in banking who call on me to use my power for complex and difficult transactions. Big businessmen who want to have me wish for the success of their new product. Every Monday I’m invited to visit the general manager of a major industrial group, who swears by my supernatural powers and makes use of them for all his businesses. You’re skeptical, amazed, taken aback. But in two, three weeks, I’m certain I’ll be counting you among my clients, too. Don’t resist! There’s no point. You’ll come around. I know it. It makes too much sense nowadays, meshes too well with people’s current psychological conditions, with the situation as a whole. The modern witch is a necessary sign of the times …”

This young, good-looking, elegant, highly sophisticated lady actually exists. I really and truly did talk with her, she sat in my apartment, chatting away as though it was the most natural thing in the world. And I think it’s worth noting, for cultural and historical reasons, that a witch was able to establish herself in 1927 and do well enough in her profession to live more than comfortably. Her clothing was definitely from a top-notch boutique.

Berliner Börsen Courier, October 23, 1927

Grock, the Man Who Makes the World Laugh

A melancholy man goes to a famous doctor and tells his tales of woe. The doctor gives him this advice: “Go see Debureau the clown—if he can’t get you to laugh, you’re a lost cause.” The man shakes his head. “I can’t go see Debureau; I am Debureau!”

His gray-checked trousers are so baggy that they’re swimming on him like a loose scarf, he is sweating so much that his makeup is dripping from his temples and

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