Din-A
By: ein Text von K.T. Schnider ; Zeichnungen, Simone Wicki.
Edition: 1. Aufl.
Publisher: Edition Sec 52 / now: bilgerverlag
Published: 1991
Place of publication: Zürich
Language: ger
Number of pages: 108
First sentence: Im grossen und ganzen geht es darum, zu beschreiben, wie er immer am Fenster steht und hinausblickt und denkt und redet, das ist natürlich ungeheuer langweilig.
Description: The text has been written over a period of years starting in 1979 . It was completed in 1985 and polished once more in 1990 at the prospect of publication.
                                                                          
"DIN-A" is a technical term which translates as "German Industrial Norm A" (Deutsche IndustrieNorm A). It is widely used as the designation of different formats of sheets of paper. The protagonist of the story uses this abbreviation as his nickname, mainly in the letters he writes. His real name, Rolf Meier, is quite common in countries where German is spoken (i.e. Switzerland, Austria, Germany), perhaps comparable to "John Smith".
                                             
The people Din-A observes he calls "Statisten", a term used for people employed on film sets, making up crowds, passers-by etc. ("extras"). He imagines that they are employees of a special bureau he calls "Statistenamt". In German these terms remind of statistics, all the data collected by official or private groups aimed at monitoring the movements etc. of the population. 
                                    
Din-A, a man of no distinct age, is living on his own in a one bedroom flat. He stopped working for a while and spends his time writing strange letters, toying with notions of death, ruminating about the world, eating and praising French cheese and white wine. He observes people from behind the window of his sitting room, which leads onto the street directly in front of the house he lives in. He concludes or rather decides that all the people regularly walking to and fro on the streets must be "extras" employed by the municipality in order to create the comfortable illusion of a town alive and bustling with activity. Obviously those "extras" would not be allowed to disclose the nature of their work and he fancies himself to be the only one having detected the ruse. As he sinks further and further into his speculations he also envisions these extras carrying little spies with them, men shrunk and diminished by the humiliations of a useless life, whom they deposit at the houses on their routes to survey the people and report on them. 
Becoming aware of his peculiar situation as an observer who most likely is being observed himself, he begins to act as if he really believed these spies to be sitting in his rooms, in his fridge, underneath his chair.
                                
The text itself emphasizes the notion of the watcher who is being watched in paragraphs implicating the reader, who in fact is the real voyeur, the person who observes DIN-A most closely, and comes to expect certain actions and reactions of this fictional figure as she or he continues reading. Thereby these paragraphs give the reader the impression, that she or he is being watched too, goaded towards reactions to the text or even caught out at them.
                                 
Din-A has two friends. He sometimes meets with Grüber, a young man who is constantly eating apples and contemplates getting married, or with Hilde, a girlfriend he had left some time ago. 
Although he regularly meets Hilde he clearly does not like her company much, thinking in mostly condescending terms of her, not realising that she knows. Grüber is his true friend, but he will leave Rolf, the name by which Din-A is known in his surroundings, in order to concentrate more on his love relationship and move in with his girlfriend.               
Other people Din-A refers to never appear, never speak for themselves, their existence outside of his mind becomes doubtful.                           
One of them is Amalie, the declared "no one" he writes letters to, addressing her in a scathing manner, reproaching her for some of her qualities, her prissy outfit, her mannerisms, confronting her with the possibility of his dying while he is in the process of writing to her. In these letters, accusing her of being superficial he comes up with a phrase which he uses again and again in different versions. He insults Amalie by telling her that she is no more than a goose and asks her therefore to remain true to herself by saying out loud no more than "quack" instead of getting on his nerves with remarks about his way of life – which of course are mere conjecture on his part. This culminates in a proclamation: 
Let us all utter no more than "quack", Amalie. You have never said anything better nor have I, inspite of my life long refusal to every say it. It is the very best that remains to be said anyhow. Let us be proud of it then, let us be happy to be capable of thus still having a say within the society of the proud, let's confirm this again and again, let's be generous with the all-accompanying "quack" and call it out to each other whenever we met on our way waddling from trough back to bog..."
The reality of this person, Amalie,  is never confirmed. He invents situations she is supposed to remember only to disclose the lie to her in the next letter, he frequently misspells her name, wavering from Amalia to Amalie to Amilia and back again. Nevertheless she appears to be his closest companion. He signs his letters "ever faithfully your "Din-A" – in German the nickname in that context reminds of the phrase "your faithful servant"; Din-A comes to sound like a mock pronunciation of "Diener".
                                                   
Another person he only reminisces about, his boyfriend Kroger, who never appears to speak for himself, he wants to get out of his life, a decision he underscores by packing up Kroger's clothes, which he sometimes wore himself, intending to send them off without even a letter or a note. He had been in love with Kroger, as once he had been with Hilde, which he at least admits to in two disjointed inner monologues. Without ever having truly fallen out with Kroger he comes to the conclusion that he can no longer bear his attitude, his demands. He describes Kroger as someone who does not work, considers life to be work enough, frequents bars insteads and likes to hang out with friends proclaiming that one has to "do something" i.e. fight against the powers that be. To Kroger Din-A is an old bore and Din-A soon feels disgusted with Kroger mouthing paroles.
                                   
Every now and then a neighbour, an elderly woman, creeps into his thoughts as he sees or hears her mounting the stairs to her own apartment. He endows her with a life that makes him feel oddly fond of her. He pictures her as a rotund and kindly waitress in a canteen, receiving letters from her adult children who live in another town. Himself he portrays as the only one even thinking about the simple life of such a person, only to find out that Hilde as well as Grüber knew the real circumstances of her life all along. His concern with the frail reality of life, the way social control might work and the flaws he finally detects in his own perceptions make him realise that it is high time to step out at least of the network of his own speculations, leave his place at the window and go into the world he has only observed so far. 
He writes his final letter to Amalia, stating this intent to end their relationship which anyhow, as he tells her, has existed on sheets of paper only, the way he wanted it, he felt comfortable with. He denies her mere existence, be it inside or outside his head. He sheds his nickname and sends her his last farewell, now signing off with his real name:
"There will always be a society of the proud, in other ways than we think of now, but one thing is certain, they will be enjoying the endless nuances of true quacking, never has there been anyhting better, never has there been more to say than "quack", as much as one might have wished for it. So I say farewell, my dearest, remaining, until I get run over by a steamroller or until the last chapter has been written about me, too, even if not yours anymore, sincerely as ever, Rolf"