Manfred Hausmann

Hostess Gerda, in harmony with herself and confident because of that, is the calm anchor between the people who have come together in the port bar this evening. Everyone else is swaying between the desire for adventure and the longing for a foothold. Ordinary seaman Johann, for example: he is looking forward to his first big voyage, but falls in love so deeply with prostitute Alma just hours before it that he misses the departure of his ship. Or bosun Brandenhorst: his choleric rage is nothing but an expression of him being unhappy with himself and the world.
It is he who gets into a conversation with two women from the salvation army. Helene, the elder of the two, manages to touch him with her direct language and clear arguments. Brandenhorst is impressed and kneels piously. It’s a short moment of transformation, and when he is ridiculed by the port fellowship, he regresses to his berserk nature.
A liquor vendor convinces him to restore his reputation: he has to be found in an obviously compromising situation with Ernestine, the second salvation army sister. Ernestine, on the other hand, believes after a messy circular argument that she can save Brandenhorst’s soul through her carnal devotion. It turns into a catastrophe when jealous Johann walks in on this arrangement.
Like Joseph Conrad, Manfred Hausmann doesn’t use the setting of a dubious port bar to cast a voyeuristic glance at the fringes of society. Rather, his motivation is to show the deep turmoil of lonely people. And he offers solutions: like human closeness, or religion.