The Sonderberg Case
Published in Issue #1 Translated from French by Catherine Temerson(Excerpt from a novel)
IT IS BECAUSE of Werner Sonderberg that, one fine spring May, I found myself in court, in the bosom of the justice system. Not as a lawyer, as my mother had wished, but as an interested observer. And above all as a drama critic.
This was the boss’s idea. Rather original, not to say hare-brained. To tell the truth, I had tried to dissuade him.
“I haven’t studied law, Paul, as you know. I’ve never attended a trial, and never set foot in a courtroom. Do you want me to make a fool of myself? My area of expertise is theater!”
“That’s just it. Trials are like theater. All those who participate in them are playing a part. In England, the judges wear wigs. In France it’s robes. When the lawyer says, in his client’s name, ‘we plead guilty or not guilty,’ it’s as if he himself were guilty or not guilty, too. It’s theater, I tell you. In a criminal trial, especially with a jury, there’s always suspense and drama. That’s why the readers are interested in it.”
“And the defendant, Paul?” I replied. “Is it a game, for him, too?”
“It’s up to you to tell us.”
That’s how, from one day to the next, the aforementioned Werner Sonderberg, nephew of Hans Dunkelman, burst into my life.
I remember: a Sunday, late afternoon. I return from the theater and find a meeting of the editors. They’re preparing the layout. The Middle East is on the front page as usual, as well as a speech by the president at...
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