Cornelia Battenberg
FabianCornelia Battenberg is a jurist who turns toward the film industry in Berlin, where ambition, financial insecurity, and love converge in her relationship with Jakob Fabian. She first appears as an outsider to the disordered artist’s studio in which he finds her; later, she tells him she loves him but refuses to make that love a claim on his freedom. When Edwin Makart offers her a film opportunity, she accepts the cost of leaving Fabian, framing the decision as a way to survive and perhaps preserve their bond. Her story makes visible the novel’s tension between intimacy and economic necessity: affection remains real, but it cannot keep the couple outside the forces that shape their choices.
Identity and Ambition
Cornelia first enters Fabian’s view in the studio, where she is introduced as the only woman present. He is surprised by her presence and thinks she does not fit the milieu. When he asks how she came to be there, she later explains that she is a Referendar—a legal trainee—and that her dissertation concerned international film law. A major Berlin film company is prepared to take her as an intern in its contracts department for 150 marks a month. Her education and career plans therefore precede her romantic involvement with Fabian; she is not introduced as someone whose only direction is toward him.
The conversation also reveals her willingness to adapt to the opportunities available. Fabian jokingly urges her to become a film actress, and she answers that she will do that too if necessary. The exchange is playful, but her answer anticipates the decision that will later alter their relationship: professional advancement may require her to cross from legal work into performance and commercial cinema.
Meeting Fabian and Defining Love
After meeting in the studio, Cornelia and Fabian walk together through Geisberg Street. When he asks her name, she answers simply, “Cornelia.” Their later intimacy does not erase the circumstances of their first conversation. Fabian recalls that she had spoken of punishing men for their egotism; Cornelia says that her resolve has not changed, but that she is making an exception for him. She tells him she thinks she loves him.
She defines that love in deliberately nonpossessive terms. Although she has cried because she loves him, she insists that the feeling is her own business and not his concern. He may come and go when he wishes; she will be glad when he comes and will try not to be sad when he leaves. Her promise makes room for closeness without asking Fabian to accept conventional obligations. The scene’s emotional force lies in the contrast between her tears and the independence she asserts: love is openly acknowledged, but it is not presented as a right to command the other person.
The exchange remains bodily and ordinary as well as declarative. Cornelia presses close to Fabian, then announces that she is hungry. She explains that after loving someone—or after being loved—she always becomes ravenous, but she has no food in the room. The abrupt shift from emotional confession to hunger gives their intimacy a material, comic immediacy rather than turning it into an idealized romance.
Makart’s Offer and the Separation
Cornelia’s opportunity arrives through Makart, whom she encounters in the corridor of the film company. He tells her she is the type he has long been seeking for his firm’s next film and asks her to come to his office the following day, where the production manager and director will be present. She asks Fabian for 100 marks so that she can buy a new jumper and hat before the meeting. Knowing that he has almost no money left, she still asks because she cannot let the chance pass. Fabian gives her his last 100-mark note and hopes it will bring her luck.
Cornelia leaves before Fabian wakes. Her letter explains that she believes it is better to go too early than too late: if she stayed for a few more weeks, she fears he would become deeply unhappy. In her account, the hardship itself troubles him less than the possibility that hardship might become important. She says that she would like to stay, but that she is to be featured in Makart’s next film and will sign the contract the next day. Makart has rented her two rooms. She describes the bargain as selling herself to anatomy, a metaphor that gives the new career a bodily and compromising dimension rather than presenting it as uncomplicated success.
The letter also makes clear that Cornelia understands the decision as entangled with survival. Makart discusses the arrangement as matter-of-factly as a load of fuel; she recognizes the degrading terms yet says she will not be destroyed by them. She invokes the idea that one must get dirty to get out of the dirt, and insists that she and Fabian want to get out. Her use of “we” is central: she is physically leaving him, but imagines the departure as a means of remaining united with him. She asks whether he will still love and embrace her despite the other man, and arranges to wait for him at Café Schottenhaml from four o’clock the following afternoon.
Reunion and Changed Circumstances
Fabian initially turns away from Café Schottenhaml, deciding there is nothing left to discuss, then doubles back and enters. Cornelia is waiting. She takes his hand, says she had not thought he would come, and asks through tears whether what she did was wrong. Fabian looks away rather than meeting her eyes. The reunion confirms that her letter’s appeal has not restored the earlier ease: the two are physically together, but the choices surrounding her contract remain between them.
After Stephan Labude’s suicide, Cornelia comes to Fabian in a car before the afternoon, unable to wait. She gets out, strokes his hand, and offers to drive him to the university, where he intends to speak to the Geheimrat about Labude. Her care is immediate and practical, even as the chauffeur watches. This encounter places her alongside Fabian in his bereavement, but it does not undo the separation or settle the terms of their relationship.
Public Success and Narrative Significance
Later, Fabian sees Cornelia’s image in the newspaper beneath the headline “Juristin wird Filmstar.” The report identifies her as “Fräulein Dr. jur. Cornelia Battenberg,” says Makart discovered her, and announces that she will begin filming The Masks of Woman Z within days. Another paper shows her in a striking summer fur, at the wheel of the car Fabian recognizes, with a large man beside her whom the caption identifies as Makart. The public account turns her into a novelty: the intelligent German woman, formerly a legal trainee, recast as a film-industry discovery.
Fabian wishes her well, but the photograph feels to him like a grave. His profession is lost, Labude is dead, and Cornelia is in another man’s hands; the ties binding him to Berlin seem cut. That image registers the cost of her advancement from his perspective, while the newspaper’s triumphant language displays how readily the industry converts her education and appearance into a marketable type. Cornelia’s trajectory does not resolve into either simple liberation or simple betrayal. She acts to seize a livelihood and a career, yet the opportunity comes through Makart’s power and leaves her describing herself as sold. Her love for Fabian persists in words and gestures, but the novel gives no reconciliation that would remove the economic and personal consequences of her choice.

