I recently finished this novel after already enjoying Stefan Zweig very much for his other, shorter stories. The Chess Player is one of my favorite short stories, as is The Confusion of Feelings. From his other stuff, I had known Zweig wrote sentimentalist stuff and The Confusion of Feelings made it clear he was not only sentimentalistic but full-blown hypersensitive through his prose and how he unweaves every aspect of every feeling characters have, and how one action can lead to a myriad of emotions all at once in one person.

Man, Beware of Pity is torture. Don’t get me wrong, the novel is amazing and I recommend it to anyone, but it’s such terrible thesis that it makes you almost wonder if human beings are wired in a way that things will always remain at an impass.

The theme is one of pity. A soldier is found wanted by a woman but there are too many factors in the way, many of which are the soldier’s own feelings. In modern terms the story talks of ableism, antisemitism and classism (also perhaps homosexuality) in a way that really rebels against these flaws, but the root of it is unrequited love.

The problem is you know you’re at an impass the whole novel : it’s unrequited love, and the only thing stopping the hero from brushing off the woman is pity.

Things is, in 1939, Zweig could have used this book as a manifesto against Hitler. He could have simply written about how tolerance leads to good things, and how we should all kumbaya together. But he wrote the novel in a way that, to make everything right, the main character would need complete and total selflessness. And Zweig does aknowledge this exists : two characters give themselves totally to moral duty, and they are happier for it, they’re the “true heroes” of the book (Zweig clearly doesn’t mean that moral duty is more important than love, the guy fell for a married woman then divorced her for his secretary).

Yet, the main character isn’t here for that, his use is to demonstrate a sadder truth : you can be perfectly sensitive and lucid towards the feelings of others, sure, but that is not the same thing at all as being kind. Even worse, you can be as kind as you want towards others, but that will never be love, it will always just remain kindness, something that will exasperate a disabled person in a state of passion. The novel puts the hero in a situation where things could get fixed only if love was aligned with moral duty, which sadly is almost never the case.

And so, the main character acknowledges he’s a coward, or is he? Responsibility is optional. But yeah, he is a coward, at least simply by not being true to his feelings and rebuffing the woman. But then this “bravery” would mean putting someone in danger. How to decide between being true to yourself and helping others? Thus, the impass.

I would put this novel alongside all the great big greek mythological stories of forbidden love. The questions it asks are bold because the answers may be frightening. Would you help a person in need if you knew they would fall unequivocally in love with you ? Or do you have the strength to be a filthy coward? Am I an asshole for thinking “well, glad I’m not that guy”? Am I short-sighted for thinking “just love her bro”? Fucking, torture.