Tyll

by Daniel Kehlmann

An old riddle goes: can God make a stone so heavy that he can no longer lift it? It sounds like a paradox. Do you know what that is, a paradox?” “Yes.” “Really?” The boy nods. “What is it?” “You are a paradox, and your rogue of a pimp father is one too.”

Agneta called him a furry horned animal, whereupon he told her not to meddle in things that are too difficult for women, whereupon she smacked him, whereupon he told her to watch herself, whereupon she slapped him so hard that he had to sit down for a while.

This is how things should be, the theater told you, this is how you should talk, how you should hold yourself, how you should feel, this is what it would be like to be a true human being.

Then the King’s Men performed a play that their leading dramatist had written specially for the occasion. It was about a Scottish king who was killed by a rogue, a man with a black soul, spurred on by witches, who lied by telling the truth.