Franz meticulously mispronounces words.

And dont lets just think in terms of improper phonemes;

hes an artisan, ever aware of the formal aspects of his work. Rhythm, emphasis, intonationand sure, certainly,
the odd off-kilter vowel veer, certain consonants bent up-palate or down. He feels it out lingually, and knows
upon which points to pressure. But the good bit is usually the diction. Tongue like a violin bow, hell sing out
utter tripe, fond of words like marchioness with odd French thrown in. He says he is inspired by the Classics,
and guides the verbal slurry out in the Italian fashion, with fluid gestures and uneven weight distribution.
Whether Franz is attempting to talk his way in (sexually, or to a venue), or out (of an[y] obligation), it is a
marvel to behold.
Maximilian, fixing crooked and banal paintings in the tenement, straightening dusty furniture and
frowning at the carpet indentation, doesnt much care for all of this. But Franz reassures him.
Maximilian, flesh of my fleshF. and M. having, reciprocally, no shared flesh, blood, or surname
between themyou ought to understand that its all rightly arranged. The verbiahge, it is exactly how it
should beis how Id have structurd that last thought in French, maybe? What?
People say that true love is a choicea path a dedicated practitioner must take every day, not to be
substituted with any lazy natural inclination. So, too, for Franz, who possessed fairly normal syntax in his
dealings with childhood friends, family, &c. on the phone, when he reverted to instinct. The choice to be
incoherent was manual and crafty, and an outlet of immense concentration for poor Franz, who had his reasons.
But lets see things from Maximilians end, since historys written by those who actually want to be
comprehended. Its a bad neighborhood, and people take advantage of confused typesof which there are more
than a few, locally. The possible pitfalls to Franzs insistence on being an idiot are abundant and concrete. Still,
when he left the flat for 48 hours and returned with more than half of his share of the rent, it was hard to muster
anything more ambitious than a dull, rusted frustration. Which was, of course, by design.
So, maybe if Maximilian exercised some good old fashioned deductive reasoning, hed have grasped the
idea that Franz didnt do it out of vanity, and that, maybe, if youre aware enough to tailor your every word to
exacting nonsense, you know well enough that language really is like love; he who cares least (substitute: can
fake it) will usually have control. And to control the conversation grants you substantial initiative, indeed.