Summer 2000 • Vol. XXII No. 3/4 Fiction |

The Begging Chair

The destruction of Anton Jünger's Der Bettelnstuhl, or The Begging Chair, ended my friendship with Joseph, although, after having considered the situation for some time, I believe that had it not been cut short by The Begging Chair's collapse into a thousand tiny splinters of wood and a thousand tiny shards of glass, our friendship would have disintegrated on its own. A fundamental misunderstanding underpinned our friendship; as is painfully clear to me now, the things that Joseph most appreciated about my character, the things he found most appealing, were precisely the things that I had come to hate about myself. I first met Joseph while attending to a long-standing problem in the modernism wing, which was Joseph's regular station and the setting for several discussions we had on the nature of art and, to put it crudely, on life in general. Although at the time most security personnel seemed totally uninterested in me or appeared to feel cowed by me and would never respond to

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By Yvonne A. Jackson

The destruction of Anton Jünger's Der Bettelnstuhl, or The Begging Chair, ended my friendship with Joseph, although, after having considered the situation for some time, I believe that had it […]

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