Chapter 20 Politically dubious!

The changes of daily life began to show its regularity-first on Sundays, when a band played on the terrace every fourteen days, which was a fortnight mark.Hans Castorp came to the sanatorium during the second half of this period.The day of his arrival was Tuesday, and thus the fifth day.A few days ago, there was a lot of wind and snow, and it returned to the bleak winter all of a sudden, but Tuesday was as gentle and bright as spring, with white clouds floating in the light blue sky, and the warm sunshine shining on the hillside. In the valley, the usual lush summer scene appeared again, because the recent snow was destined to melt quickly.

Every Sunday, everyone obviously goes to great lengths to make it festive and different from usual.Both the hospital and the patients have contributed in this regard.Served early, xiangbing is a leavened pastry topped with a layer of sugar, flour and cream. In front of each table was a little vase containing flowers and wild lilacs, even Alpine roses, which gentlemen wore in their button-holes, and the prosecutor of Dodmont, Parr Lavant even wore tuxedos and spotted vests, while the ladies' attire was even more colorful and beaming.Madame Chaucat appeared at breakfast in a light morning dress with open sleeves and lace.When she came in, slamming the glass door, she stood facing the group for a moment before tiptoeing to her own table, as if to show the whole restaurant how elegant she was.Today she was so well dressed that the woman sitting next to Hans Castorp, the governess from Königsberg, couldn't help but admire her too.Even the impolite couple at the "lower" Russian table realized that today should be different: the man wore a leather jacket, but now he wore a short frock coat; felt boots were replaced by leather shoes As for the woman, although she is still wearing a dirty long wool scarf today, she has changed into a green silk shirt with a folded collar... Hans Castorp frowned and his face changed when he saw the couple. It's—he blushes every now and then when he's here.

As soon as the second breakfast was over, a concert started on the terrace; in the band, there were all kinds of brass and woodwind instruments, sometimes lively and sometimes calm and solemn.The music played almost until naptime.Bed rest is not a must at a concert.It was true that some people stood on the veranda to enjoy their ears, and in the little hall in the garden there were three or four people sitting on chairs, but most of them sat at small white tables on the terrace, which was shaded by a shade. Pergola.Some of the most active people found it too serious to sit in a chair, and settled down on the stone steps leading to the little garden, where they enjoyed themselves.These were young patients, both male and female, most of whom Hans Castorp could recognize by name and face.Among the party were Hermine Kleifelt and Herr Albin.Albin took Hua Hua's large box of chocolate candies with him, and he shared a piece with everyone. He didn't eat any of it himself, but smoked a cigarette with a golden filter tip in an old-fashioned way.Further on is the thick-lipped young man from the Half-Lung Association, and Miss Lefey, who is thin and white as if carved out of ivory; "Rasmussen", because his joints are soft, his hands can only be raised to his chest like fish fins.There is also a Dutch city name from Amsterdam.Mrs. Salomon, who is plump in red, has been among the young people; The person who played the song "Dream of the Night", at this moment he put his arms around the bony knees, and stared blankly at the back of her dark neck.There was also a red-haired Greek girl, a man of unknown origin who looked like a tapir, a gluttonous young man with thick-lens glasses, and a boy of fifteen or sixteen who carried a pair of plain films. Glasses, coughing with tiny fingers over his mouth, and nails as long as salt spoons, he was a complete fool.There are others.

Joachim whispered that the boy with the long nails was very ill when he first arrived, without any fever. His father was a doctor, and he was sent up the mountain just to be careful.According to the consultant doctor, he only needs to live for about three months.Now after three months, his body temperature is 37-38 degrees, which seems to be serious.But he really deserves a slap in the face for his life in such a muddle. The cousins ​​had a small table to themselves, at a distance from the others, for Hans Castorp smoked with the stout which he brought out after breakfast.The cigars smelled to him now and then, but the beer and the music, as usual, made him so intoxicated that he opened his mouth, turned his head on one side, and looked around with red eyes, carefree and happy. A leisurely life.At this time he felt nothing hindering him, on the contrary, he felt that everything had a special flavor, and he also felt a certain spiritual charm-an irresistible decayed emotion eroded the hearts of these people, and everyone Some of them seemed to have a slight fever... They were sitting at small tables drinking frothy lemon tea, some were taking pictures on the steps, and some were exchanging stamps.The red-haired Greek girl set up a drawing board and drew Mr. Rasmussen's portrait, but she didn't show him after she finished the painting, she just twisted her body around and grinned with wide gaps and wide teeth. This gentleman took a long time to grab this drawing board.Hermione Kleefeldt sat on the steps with half-closed eyes, listening to the music and beating time with a rolled-up newspaper, and obediently let Herr Albin put a bouquet of wild flowers on her lapel. superior.As for the boy with thick lips, he sat at Mrs. Salomon's feet and raised his neck to chat with her, while the pianist with thinning hair was still staring at the back of the lady's neck.

Physicians came and mingled with the patients.Consultant Behrens wore a white coat, and Dr. Krokowski wore black overalls.They came to each table one by one, and the consultant doctor almost joked at each table, it seemed that after he left, the surrounding atmosphere was still full of vitality.Then they went down the steps to the line of boys, and the girls jumped up and bounded around Dr. Krokowski, leering at him, and the consultant, who tied his shoelaces with one The boots show the men a fine feat to brighten up the Sunday.Resting his monstrously large foot on the upper step, he untied all the laces, and with a peculiarly delicate movement he held them with one hand, and at the same time was able to go straight away without the other. Tying a horizontal knot, everyone was amazed by the proficiency of the technique.Some people also want to compare with him, but they are not as good as him.

Later, Setambrini also appeared on the terrace.He emerged from the dining room with his walking stick in his hand.Today he still wears a fleece sweater and canary-striped trousers, with a shrewd, fussy air.He looked around, approached the table where the cousins ​​were sitting, said "Wonderful!" and begged them to let him sit down. v "Beer, tobacco and music," he said. "This is the characteristic of your country! I can see that you all have a patriotic enthusiasm, engineer. You are all enjoying yourself, which makes me very happy. Please allow me to share your happiness!" Han S. Castorp suddenly scowled.That's what he did when he saw the Italian.He said:

"You are late for the music, Monsieur Sethambrini. The performance is almost over. Don't you like listening to music?" "Order me to listen, and I don't like to listen," Sethambrini retorted. "I don't like to listen to the programs that are arranged according to the weekly schedule. I don't like to listen to the music that is full of medicine in the hospital and assigned to us for the sake of the health of the patients. I would rather be free and hold The sliver of liberty and human respect that God has left us is not let go. In these things I am only a guest, just as you are basically a guest here. I will come here for a quarter of an hour, and then go my way. It gives me some illusion of independence... I don't mean it's more than an illusion, but as long as the illusion gives me some kind of satisfaction, what do you expect? For your cousin, that's another matter Yes, it's work to him. Don't you see it as part of the job, Lieutenant? Oh, I see, you guys know the art of keeping pride in humiliating situations. It's a confusing part. Kind of a trick. Not everyone in Europe sees it. Music? You're asking if I call myself an amateur music lover?

Well, when you say the word 'amateur' (actually Hans Castorp can't remember saying that at all), it's not a bad choice of words, it sounds a bit light.Well, I agree, yes, I'm an amateur music lover - which should mean that I don't particularly care about music, although I respect and love to say what it is 'The pillar of the spirit, the tool of progress and the shining plowshare of progress'...Music?...It is ambiguous, elusive, irresponsible, detached.Maybe you'll argue with me that sometimes it shows itself too clearly.But isn't nature, even a stream, sometimes clear, and what good does it do us? Actually, it's not really clear, but in its clarity there is something vague, inexpressible, and irresponsible for everything. Element.This clarity is fruitless and therefore dangerous because it leads to resignation and resignation...Let music fulfill its noble mission.it is good!It will certainly ignite our passions, but our first task is to arouse our reason.Music is obviously the movement itself, but despite this, I have nothing to do with it. The original text Quietismus, also translated "quietism", is a kind of mysticism in religion. ) advocacy.Still feeling skeptical.Let me get to the point: I'm against music for political reasons as well. "

Hans Castorp could not help patting himself on the knee, and exclaiming that he had never heard such arguments in his life. "You should weigh it, though," said Sethambrini, smiling. "As a good stimulant, as an uplifting force, music is of inestimable value--if it can do its soul-educating work. But literature must be its forerunner. Light The world cannot be moved by music. Only music is dangerous, engineer, and it is absolutely dangerous to you personally. I saw it in the expression on your face when I came up." Hans Castorp laughed. "Oh, Mr. Sethambrini, you mean my face. You won't believe it, but the air on your hills is fueling my face. The water and soil here look better than I thought. more difficult to adapt."

"I'm afraid your idea is wrong." "How could it be wrong! God knows how tired I've been, and how hot my face has been." "I think we should thank the hospital for organizing this concert," said Joachim thoughtfully. "Mr. Sethambrini, I have no objection that you look at things from a more advanced point of view, that is, from the standpoint of a writer. But I think we should be grateful for a little music. I have no special interest in music at all, and what they play is nothing special, neither classical nor modern, just pop music. But this is also a pleasant adjustment. I think it can It satisfactorily fills the gaps of hours, it divides the hour into tiny units and then fills them up one by one, so there is always something to be gained, otherwise here the hour, day and week would be sloppy. Let's go... You see, an undemanding music program may only take seven minutes, doesn't it? After all, there is something in these seven minutes. It has a beginning and an end, and it is unusual. In addition, they are divided into smaller sections by the melody of each piece, and each melody is subdivided into beats, so that the movement is always going on, and each moment has a certain value that people can grasp. in this sense, and vice versa in other cases... I don't know if it's right to say that..."

"Brilliant!" cried Setambrini. "Excellent, Lieutenant! You have undoubtedly expressed a good opinion of the moral value of music in its nature, that is to say, its rare and lively way of measuring time, which can clear the mind and refresh the mind. And it's valuable. Music inspires time, it inspires us to enjoy time well, it inspires... and that's only moral. Art is moral as long as it inspires. But if it does the opposite, then So what? What if it acts as a narcotic, puts us to sleep, hinders our movement and progress? The same is true of music, which is fundamentally as narcotic as opium. Gentlemen , it works really badly, opium is given by the devil, it makes people feel dull, insensitive, inactive, dead... There is something suspicious about music, gentlemen. I insist that music is of an ambiguous nature . I wouldn't go too far if I said it was politically dubious." He went on talking with the same vigor, and Hans Castorp listened, but not very well, first of all because he was tired, and these frivolous youths were socializing on the stone steps. Activities also distracted him.Is what he saw real, and what is the actual situation? The girl with the tapir face is busy sewing buttons on the belt of the sports pantyhose for the young man wearing a monocle!She was short of breath and panting as she sewed, while the boy coughed and put his hand with the salt-spoon nails to his mouth.Both of them are naturally sick, but despite this, the young people here on the mountain have their own unique social customs.And then the music began to play a polka...