The Roman playwright, Plautus once
wrote, “nothing
is more wretched than the mind of a man conscious of guilt.” In The
Assault, the author, Harry Mulisch, composes a plot based on the integrity
of Plautus’ wise words. In the beginning
of the novel, in order to avoid the wrath of the Krauts, Mr. Korteweg and his
daughter fatefully transport Fake Ploeg’s dead body from their yard to that of
the Steenwijk’s. A major aspect of the
plot is anchored by Anton Steenwijk’s unforeseen perception of the guilt that wrecks
havoc upon Mr. Korteweg’s life. This
guilt arises because all but Anton in the Steenwijk household are murdered. Korteweg’s actions stem from the immense
necessity he has to care for his lizards.
However, once the guilt of the Steenwijks’ deaths manifests itself in
Korteweg’s mind, he murders the very lizards he once sought to protect. Death seems to follow those who reap death,
for Korteweg commits suicide later in life.
And although the assault may have directly caused the murders of Fake
Ploeg and the people whose yard his body ultimately desecrated, it is the sheer
violence of guilt that conceives the deaths of Mr. Korteweg and his
lizards.
Throughout
the novel, Anton locks himself in a room of ignorance by refusing to learn why
certain events, in relation to the assault, transpired. He describes this room in a broader sense, in
that he feels as if “his entire universe had become that other one which now
fortunately had come to and end, and about which he never wanted to think
again” (56). In this new, imperceptible
universe, Anton represses his feelings, emotions, and even his mere thoughts pertaining
to anything that happened the night of the assault. Yet, ironically, throughout his life, Anton
comes face to face with numerous people who hold many truths about the assault. For instance, Anton faced Fake Ploeg’s son in
a heated discussion where “every word mattered” (90); he listened to the man, Cor
Takes, who “shot [Ploeg] first in the back, then in the shoulder, and then in
the stomach” (108); and ultimately, he met Karin Korteweg, who enlighteningly
described to him “what happened that night” (175). However, it is not until Anton’s conversation
with Karin Korteweg, that he is able to piece together the collection of
personalized stories he had heard about the assault. Through this conversation, Anton learns of
Mr. Korteweg’s guilt. This guilt stems
from Korteweg’s interpretation of the events in which “three people had lost
their lives because of his love for a bunch of reptiles, and the thought that [Anton]
might kill him if [he] ever got the chance” (182). However, Korteweg’s guilt reeks of a pathetically
ironic scent, for Anton had never pondered about Korteweg’s guilt because Anton
had purposefully remained in locked in ignorance. The unknown sparks the fire that destroys
Korteweg’s guilty mind. Therefore,
through Anton’s informative interactions with the people of the assault,
especially Mr. Korteweg, guilt becomes a character in the novel that ruthlessly
and maleficently devastates lives.
This
very guilt, murders Korteweg’s lizards. Although
lizards stereotypically seem like ephemeral pets that cannot form strong bonds
with their owners, in Korteweg’s eyes, he witnesses “something about eternity
and immortality, some secret in them” (181).
Even to other people, Anton included, Korteweg’s lizards evoke an inner,
universal mystery. When young Anton
secretly views the lizards, which he describes as “weirdly silent” (69), awe
washes over him – for “the creatures stared at him out of the past as deep and
immovable as themselves. Though some of
them seemed to be grinning broadly, their eyes spoke a different language, of a
gravity so immovable and undisturbed as to be almost unbearable” (69). The lizards captivate their viewers with an
almost hypnotic spell, which, only elevates in power with Korteweg’s emotional
connection to them. Karin later terms
this emotional connection as “something to do with [her] Mother’s death” (181). This symbolic association between the lizards
and Mr. Korteweg’s deceased wife alludes to another representation of the
character, guilt. For through the
lizards, which are depicted as “the only thing [Korteweg] still cared about,
Korteweg tried to cope with the loss of his true love. In turn, this loss transforms into guilt as
Korteweg tends to the reptiles he desperately attributes to the loss of his
wife. The lizards’ need for attention
consumes Korteweg and the “trouble he took to keep them alive through that
winter of hunger” (181) was irrelevant – he had already fallen victim to guilt’s
tight, emblematic grasp.
Accordingly,
when in order to save the lizards, Korteweg and Karin fatefully transport Fake
Ploeg’s dead body from their yard to that of the Steenwijk’s, everything
changes – for all but Anton of the Steenwijk household die because of
this. When discussing this with Anton,
Karin puts it as such, “Peter dead, and your parents too, they seemed to turn
back into lizards for him again, just ordinary animals” (182). Thus, the guilt that ravages Korteweg’s mind
from the murder of his three neighbors ultimately consumes the once
all-powerful guilt that Korteweg had felt from his lizards. In turn, the guilt grows like a wild fire,
and as if almost to stomp it out, “as soon as [Korteweg] came home from the
Ortskommandantur, he trampled [the lizards] to death…like a madman” (182). And although Korteweg terminates his lizards’
physical lives, that “something about eternity and immortality” (181) he had
once felt for them, lives on in the form of brutal, violent guilt.
This
very guilt, murders Korteweg. When
Korteweg’s wife had passed, the lizards “had become his only reason for
living.” So, when Korteweg is ravaged by
the guilt of how he murdered his lizards, he breaks. He enters a state of paranoia – fearful that
Anton, the only survivor of the Steenwijks “might take revenge” (180). “But in the end he didn’t need [Anton] to
kill him” (182). After the assault, in
order to try and escape Anton’s possible vengeance, Korteweg and Karin “leave
on a merchant ship within the year” (180).
There, in New Zealand, they try to create a new life for themselves. However, guilt follows them, “and there, in
forty-eight, [Korteweg] commit[s] suicide” (180). When Karin shares all of this with Anton, she
concludes with “perhaps he did it mainly for you” (180). Nevertheless, she, like her father, is still
ravaged by guilt, and so she also attributes her own history to Anton’s
perception of her and her father’s guilt.
This attribution is nothing but a mere representation of blame, which in
turn creates the next prey for the ravenous character, guilt. And so, the brutal cycle continues.
Ultimately, Plautus was correct in his
observation of the guilty mind – for Mr. Korteweg and his lizards die from the
sheer violence of the destructive, emotional force. However, through the juxtaposition of these deaths
and the continuation of the guilt that presides in Karin and eventually Anton,
the author of the novel, Mulisch, gave life to guilt. And so, as death seems to follow those who
reap death, guilt, like a wildfire, consumes all as it expands its caustic
realm.
- J. A. Kind
