Chapter 8 immortal(8)

13 In the year of Goethe's death, Bettina wrote to her friend Count Hermann von Puckler-Muscau, in which she described an event that had occurred that summer twenty years earlier.She said she heard it directly from Beethoven.In 1812 (ten months after the black days of the shattered glasses), Beethoven spent some days at the Teplitz spa, where he met Goethe for the first time.One day they went out for a walk together.They were walking along a street when they suddenly met the queen and her family.When Goethe saw it, he immediately moved to the side of the road, took off his hat and stood there, regardless of what Beethoven was saying to him.Beethoven, on the contrary, pressed his top hat tightly on his forehead, wrinkled his bushy eyebrows, and protruded two more inches; he continued to walk forward without slowing down.In this way, the court dignitaries had to pull over and greet him.After passing the group, he turned and waited for Goethe to follow.He then spoke bluntly to Goethe about his servile behaviour.That reprimand was like scolding a snotty primary school student.

Does this scene really happen?Is it Beethoven's invention?Is it as said above from the beginning to the end, or is he embellishing it?Did Bettina add oil or vinegar?Or she fabricated it from beginning to end?No one knows.But one thing is certain: when she wrote to Puckler-Muscau, she realized the value of this anecdote.Only this story can reveal the true meaning of her love with Goethe.But how can we let everyone know? "Did you like the story?" she asked Hermann von Puckler-Muskau. "Kannst du sie brauchen?" Can you use it?It appeared that the count had no intention of using it, and Bettina considered whether she should publish her correspondence with him; and just then a great thing happened: in 1839 she published a letter , claiming that Beethoven himself told the same story!The original of this letter, signed in 1812, has never been found, only a copy from Bettina's hand.There are several details in the letter (such as the exact date) that suggest that Beethoven never wrote it this way, or at least not in the way Bettina copied it.However, whether the letter was a pure forgery or a half-truth, the anecdote was so bewitching that it became widely known.Everything was solved easily: no wonder Goethe would rather give up his great love to get that sausage; when Beethoven's top hat was lowered, his hands were crossed behind his back, and he was striding forward, Goethe stood obediently like a servile servant. by the road.

14 Bettina had studied music, and she had even composed several pieces of music, so she had a certain foundation and was able to appreciate the novelty and beauty of Beethoven's music.But I have a question: Was it Beethoven's music that fascinated her, the notes of that music, or what that music represented, in other words, its resonance with the thoughts and attitudes of Bettina's generation?Is there really such a thing as a love of art, did it really exist?Is it not an illusion?When Lenin claimed to love Beethoven's passionate sonatas beyond belief, what was it that he really loved?What did he hear?Is it music?Or a majestic voice that reminded him of a solemn throb in his soul, a yearning for blood, brotherhood, execution, justice, and the absolute?Does he get pleasure from the music, or from the reverie the music triggers?The latter has nothing to do with art and beauty.Let us return to Bettina: is she interested in Beethoven as a musician, or in Beethoven against Goethe?Is her love for music a silent love that leads us to magical metaphors, to the harmony of two painterly colors, or an aggressive passion that inspires us to join parties?Either way (we'll never know the truth), Bettina sent into the world the image of a striding Beethoven with his top hat down, and an image that will live on for generations to come.

In 1927, a hundred years after Beethoven's death, the famous German magazine Die Literarische Welt ("Literary World") interviewed the most famous contemporary composers and asked them about Beethoven's status in their hearts.The editors had no prior knowledge of the results of the investigation behind Beethoven, with his top hat fastened to his forehead. Orlik, a member of the "Paris Six", pointed out in the name of his contemporaries: They have no interest in Beethoven, he is not worth mentioning at all.So, will he be rediscovered and re-evaluated someday?It is also impossible.Absurd!Janacek also decided that Beethoven's work never thrilled him.Ravel3 concluded that he did not like Beethoven because his reputation was based not on music but on a literary legend about his life, which, as far as his music was concerned, was far from perfect.

Speaking of literary legends, this time two hats are involved: one held low on the brow-browed brow;Magicians love to juggle with hats.They can make objects disappear in hats, and they can make a flock of pigeons fly out of hats.Bettina conjures the ugly bird of Goethe's servility out of Goethe's hat, and then makes Beethoven's music disappear (unintelligently, of course) into his hat.She gave Goethe what Tecio Brad had and Jimmy Carter was going to: absurd immortality.But absurd immortality awaits everyone; for Ravel, Beethoven with his top hat on his brow is more absurd than Goethe with bowed head.

It seems that even if it is possible for people to design, manipulate and follow the rules to arrange a person's immortality in advance, the final result will never meet the original intention.Beethoven's top hat is immortalized, and the plan succeeds; however, the significance of this immortal top hat is not predetermined. ① Georges Orlik (1899?), a famous French composer. ② Janacek (1854-1928), a famous Czech composer in the early 20th century. ③ Maurice Ravel (1875-1937), a famous French composer. 15 "You know, John," Hemingway said, "they keep pissing me off, too. Instead of reading my books, they write books about me. They say I don't love my wives, that I don't care about my Son of a man who said I punched a critic on the nose, said I lied, said I was insincere, said I was conceited, said I was hyperactive, said I claimed to have suffered two hundred and thirty wounds on the battlefield , but in fact there are only 210 places, saying that I masturbated and that I did not listen to my mother."

"This is immortality," said Goethe. "Immortal is eternal judgment." "If it's an eternal trial, then there should be a decent judge, not a narrow-minded teacher with a whip in his hand." "A narrow-minded teacher with a whip, and that's what eternal judgment is all about. What more do you want, Ernest?" "I didn't want anything. I had hoped to die safe and sound." "But you try to become immortal in every possible way." "Nonsense. I just write books, that's all." "Yes, that's right!" Goethe laughed.

"I have nothing against my books being immortal. When I write, not a single word can be deleted. To face any adversity. And I, as a person, as Ernest Hemingway, I don't care about immortality! " "I understand very well, Ernest. But you should have been more careful while you were alive, and it is too late now." "Be more careful? Are you saying that I like to talk big? I admit that when I was young, I did like to sing high-profile. I like to show off in front of people. Hearing those anecdotes about me is very flattering. But please believe that I am not doing this for immortality I did. When I realized the problem, I did have a chill. I've told everyone a thousand times since to leave me alone. But the more I begged, the worse it got. I went to Cuba to hide from anyone. .I won the Nobel Prize, but I refused to go to Stockholm. Believe me, I don't give a damn about being immortal. Now, I'll tell you another thing: The day I realized I was possessed by immortality, I was scared to death. People He can control his own life, but he can't control the immortal behind him. Once you are dragged on board by the immortal, you can't go down. Even if you shoot yourself, you have to stay on the deck after death. This is terrible. Horrible, John. I lay dead on the deck with my four wives squatting around writing all they knew and behind them my son writing there too and the old lady Gertrude Stein, too, was constantly writing there, and all my friends who were telling what they had heard about my indiscretions or slandering me; There were journalists with microphones shoving each other, and university professors all over the United States sorting, analyzing, and stuffing bits and pieces into their articles and monographs."

① Gertrude Stein (1874-1946), an American writer living in Paris, had an influence on American writers in the 1920s. 16 Hemingway was trembling with excitement, and Goethe held his arm tightly: "Don't get excited, Ernest! Don't get excited, friend. I understand you. What you just said reminded me of a dream of mine. I finally did The dream I had, it disappeared after that, maybe they were all mixed together, and I couldn't tell whether it was a dream or real. It was a small puppet theater, and I went behind the scenes, manipulating the puppets, and reciting lines. The actor It's Faust. My Faust. You know, Faust in a puppet show is the most beautiful. There are no actors there, and I recite the lines by myself, which is more interesting than any other day. , so I couldn't be happier. I glanced at the auditorium and suddenly saw that the theater was empty. I was confused. Where did the audience go? They all went home because my Faust was so boring? Or because Am I not even worthy of being booed? In a daze, I turned around, and suddenly I was stunned: people should have been in front of the stage, but now they all ran to the backstage, with wide-eyed, curious Look at me. They clapped when my eyes met theirs. It turned out that they were not interested in my Faust at all. Me! Not Faust, but Goethe! At this moment, I suddenly had a feeling of dread, similar to what you just said. I feel that they want me to say something, but I can't, my throat seems to be blocked I got on; I put down the puppets in my hand, and let them lie on the stage illuminated by lights but no one was watching. I tried to maintain my dignity, went to the cloakroom without a word, took my hat and put it on, I even I left the theater and went home without a second glance at the curious crowd. I tried not to look left and right, especially not back, for I knew they were following me. I opened my heavy door, and as soon as I entered the house I slammed the door hard. I found an oil lamp, lit it, and held it tremblingly. And put the oil lamp on the table, and suddenly I saw their faces pressed against my glass window. I knew I would never get rid of them, never, never, never. I realized that the light was shining on my window. face, their eyes widened, and they could tell they were sizing me up. I blew out the oil lamp, knowing I shouldn't have done it. And now they understand, I'm avoiding them, I'm afraid of them , but this will definitely arouse their curiosity even more. At this time, my rationality was already overwhelmed by fear, I ran into the bedroom desperately, dragged off the bed cover from the bed, wrapped my head indiscriminately, and walked into the corner of the room, clinging to the The walls stand there..."

17 Hemingway and Goethe retreat along the path of another world.You asked me why I brought these two together, they were originally irrelevant and had nothing in common!But so what?Who do you think Goethe would like to get along with in another world?With Herder?With Holderlin?With Bettina ?with Eckermann ?Think of Agnes, when she imagined that she would hear women's noises in the sauna every Saturday, and she felt inexplicable horror!So, why did Goethe yearn for Herder?With a little disrespect, I might as well tell you that he doesn't even aspire to Schiller.He would never admit it when he was alive, because that would make him without a bosom friend for the rest of his life, and the ending would be too tragic.Schiller was without a doubt his best friend.But "best" just means better than other people, and frankly, those people are not that good.They were his contemporaries, not his own choice.He didn't even pick Schiller.He does feel anxious when he realizes that these people will be with him for life.But there was no way, he had to be content with it.But after death, do you still have to stay with them?

It is precisely because of my sincere love for him that I dreamed that there was someone beside him who interested him very much. (Perhaps you forgot, I can remind you that Goethe yearned for America all his life!) And this person was not like Those Romantic gigolos who dominated Germany in Goethe's later years. "You know, John," Hemingway said, "it's pure fate to be with you. People adore you, and my wives, and old Gertrude Stein, are going to give me A more spacious bunk." Speaking of this, he suddenly laughed: "Of course, it's not because of your incredible scarecrow-like dignity!" Hemingway's words are not easy to understand, so I have to explain a bit: when the immortals walk in another world, they can choose any kind of attire in their life, and Goethe chooses what he looks like when he is alone at home in his later years, except for his No one except his closest relatives knew that he was dressed like this: he had a habit of crying when he saw light, so he wore a green eyepatch tied to his forehead with a string; he wore slippers; A long, thick woolen scarf was wrapped around his neck, for he was afraid of catching a cold. Speaking of his unbelievable scarecrow-like attire, Goethe laughed with delight, as if Hemingway's words were a compliment to him.He leaned close to him and said softly: "I am dressed mainly for Bettina. Everywhere she goes, she talks about her love for me. I want to show everyone what she loves. Now she is wearing a When she saw me, she ran for her life. I know she's beating her chest now because I'm so disgraceful: toothless, bald, with this ridiculous thing over my eyes." ① Herder (1744-1803), German philosopher and critic. ② Holderlin (1770-1843), German poet.