Chap­ter 23 opens with the pro­tag­o­nist con­tem­plat­ing a man­u­script titled Mem­oirs of a Monog­a­mous Casano­va, which details his per­son­al and inti­mate expe­ri­ences with his wife, Hel­ga. Though he dis­miss­es the man­u­script as unfit for pub­li­ca­tion, he acknowl­edges its sig­nif­i­cance as a way of main­tain­ing the pas­sion and con­nec­tion that once defined their rela­tion­ship. The man­u­script itself is char­ac­ter­ized by its clin­i­cal tone, focus­ing sole­ly on their phys­i­cal inti­ma­cy dur­ing the two years they were apart due to the war, offer­ing lit­tle in terms of the emo­tion­al or sit­u­a­tion­al con­text that might have influ­enced their bond. This detach­ment high­lights the stark con­trast between the way the pro­tag­o­nist expe­ri­ences love and inti­ma­cy and the way he choos­es to remem­ber them—focusing on the phys­i­cal while ignor­ing the emo­tion­al depths.

With­in the man­u­script, one of the more mov­ing excerpts, Chap­ter 643, recounts an evening in a New York hotel after a six­teen-year sep­a­ra­tion between the pro­tag­o­nist and Hel­ga. The pro­tag­o­nist describes their reunion with vivid clar­i­ty, recall­ing how, despite the pass­ing years, their inti­ma­cy felt youth­ful and full of won­der, as if no time had passed at all. The sen­sa­tions of touch and affec­tion dur­ing this reunion are described in ten­der detail, empha­siz­ing the con­nec­tion that exists between them beyond phys­i­cal attrac­tion. This rekin­dling of their inti­ma­cy is not just about the act itself but about the emo­tion­al rebirth that occurs between them, remind­ing the pro­tag­o­nist of the pow­er of love to tran­scend time and dis­tance. This moment encap­su­lates the emo­tion­al depth of their bond, illus­trat­ing that even in the face of years spent apart, their con­nec­tion remains unbro­ken.

The fol­low­ing morn­ing, the cou­ple steps into the bright New York streets, bask­ing in the after­glow of their pas­sion­ate reunion. The pro­tag­o­nist, dressed in a lux­u­ri­ous fur-col­lared cloak and car­ry­ing a cane, feels a sense of reju­ve­na­tion and joy, which he attrib­ut­es to the mutu­al respect and affec­tion they share. This renew­al of their emo­tion­al con­nec­tion leads them to seek out a new bed, one that would mir­ror the com­fort of their for­mer life in Berlin. How­ev­er, their search leads to an unex­pect­ed frus­tra­tion when they find all the stores closed, cre­at­ing a brief moment of con­fu­sion and dis­rup­tion. This minor set­back serves as a sub­tle reminder that even in the midst of per­son­al renew­al and emo­tion­al con­nec­tion, the out­side world remains unpre­dictable and some­times indif­fer­ent, forc­ing them to con­front the lim­i­ta­tions of their imme­di­ate desires.

As they con­tin­ue their walk, the pro­tag­o­nist and Hel­ga notice Amer­i­can flags fly­ing and ini­tial­ly spec­u­late about the sig­nif­i­cance of the day. The pro­tag­o­nist won­ders aloud if it might sig­nal a poten­tial dec­la­ra­tion of war, reflect­ing the ten­sion and uncer­tain­ty that still lingers in the post-war world. Their con­fu­sion is cleared when they encounter a uni­formed man, who explains that the day is Vet­er­ans’ Day, for­mer­ly known as Armistice Day. This rev­e­la­tion sparks a brief moment of reflec­tion in the pro­tag­o­nist, who express­es dis­con­tent over how the orig­i­nal mean­ing of the day has been over­shad­owed by com­mer­cial­iza­tion. He laments how soci­ety has tak­en some­thing that once held great sig­nif­i­cance and turned it into an oppor­tu­ni­ty for con­sumerism, a shift he finds both dis­ap­point­ing and indica­tive of the broad­er cul­tur­al changes that have occurred since the war. This reflec­tion serves as a metaphor for the larg­er soci­etal changes the pro­tag­o­nist faces, where the inno­cence and pur­pose of the past have been replaced by super­fi­cial­i­ty and shal­low con­sumerism.

Hel­ga and the protagonist’s con­ver­sa­tion deep­ens as Hel­ga ques­tions whether the war has altered their love for one anoth­er. Their dia­logue turns intro­spec­tive, as they both exam­ine how their rela­tion­ship has endured through the tri­als of time, hard­ship, and the trau­ma of the war. Helga’s inquiry sug­gests that, despite the chal­lenges they’ve faced, their bond remains unshak­en, and their love has been forged and strength­ened through shared expe­ri­ences. This moment of reflec­tion about the resilience of love high­lights the depth of their con­nec­tion, and the pro­tag­o­nist real­izes that, in many ways, their rela­tion­ship has become a tes­ta­ment to the endur­ing pow­er of emo­tion­al inti­ma­cy. How­ev­er, just as the con­ver­sa­tion reach­es a moment of clar­i­ty and under­stand­ing, Hel­ga drops a bomb­shell rev­e­la­tion that shakes every­thing the pro­tag­o­nist thought he knew about their rela­tion­ship.

In a shock­ing twist, Hel­ga reveals that she is not actu­al­ly Hel­ga, but her sis­ter Resi, leav­ing the pro­tag­o­nist in utter dis­be­lief. This rev­e­la­tion com­plete­ly changes the dynam­ic of their rela­tion­ship and chal­lenges the protagonist’s entire under­stand­ing of their con­nec­tion. It’s a moment that turns every­thing upside down, forc­ing the pro­tag­o­nist to ques­tion his mem­o­ries, his emo­tions, and the real­i­ty of the past six­teen years. The chap­ter ends on this cliffhang­er, leav­ing the protagonist—and the reader—reeling from the impli­ca­tions of this rev­e­la­tion. This shock­ing twist forces the pro­tag­o­nist to con­front not only the mys­tery of his rela­tion­ship with Hel­ga but also his own per­cep­tions of iden­ti­ty, love, and loy­al­ty. It sets the stage for a deep­er explo­ration of the blurred lines between real­i­ty and illu­sion, leav­ing read­ers eager to dis­cov­er what this rev­e­la­tion means for both the pro­tag­o­nist and his under­stand­ing of his past.