Gerda

Gerda is a figure from Fiete’s past whose few appearances in these passages give her two connected roles: she represents a brief interval of relative normality, and she becomes the precedent through which Fiete recognizes the beginnings of his later relationship with Frida. The book does not develop her history here; instead, it lets fragments of memory turn her into a measure of what has changed and a warning of what may recur.

A Brief Interval of Normality

Looking back while living with Anna, Fiete thinks that even with Gerda there had once been something like normality, though it lasted only a little while. The qualification matters: the memory offers no sustained picture of a stable life, only a short contrast with the present. Gerda is associated with a time that could be called ordinary for a moment, but the brevity of that moment keeps the recollection from becoming a promise of lasting security.

The Precedent for Frida

When Frida enters the Zum Goldenen Handschuh, Fiete experiences the scene as a near repetition of what happened with Gerda. Frida carries a bag, and her appearance under her coat recalls the earlier woman; Fiete recognizes the familiar situation and goes ahead with his usual approach even though he already anticipates how it will end. The comparison gives Gerda narrative weight without a full account of her own story: Fiete’s memory of her supplies the template through which he reads Frida’s arrival.

Repetition and Warning

The parallel returns as Fiete considers sending Frida away before bringing her home, and rain begins on the way, as it had with Gerda. The repeated circumstances bind the two women in Fiete’s memory, but the passage presents that resemblance as part of his recognition, not as proof that their experiences are identical. Gerda’s brief association with normality stands against the ominous force of the repetition: for Fiete, an old pattern is beginning again, and he senses its likely outcome even as he continues into it.