Nils Lid Hjort's Reviews > Beethoven the Creator
Beethoven the Creator
by
by
" Jeg reiser i næste
uke til Indien for
at studere religion og
filosophi. Til Norge
kommer jeg aldrig
tilbake. "
Yes, I'm coming to that bit, in a little while, below.
Romain Rolland (1903): "Vie de Beethoven" ("Life of Beethoven", or translated simply to "Beethoven", in some languages)
Of course the spectacularly broad literary output of Romain Rolland, parts of which earned him the 1915 Nobel Prize, deserves our attention and one or more Nils reviews. He started writing at an early age (but actually publishing much later), made his doctoral degree in Latin about 16th century Italian painters, knew everything under the academic and artistic suns, etc. etc. And in addition to his ten-volume Jean-Christophe series he wrote about Great Men: Beethoven, Tolstoi, Danton, Gandhi, Goethe, Michelangelo, Ramakrishna, Vivekananda, Robespierre, Rousseau.
But on this particular occasion I decide *not* to directly Nils-review the great (but by definition old-fashioned and somewhat out-of-tune hundred years old) book about one of the greatest composers in world history --instead I cannot resist relating the following. It is a four-page letter written by an extremely bold, serious and high-strungly amibitious young man late one Wednesday night in November 1921, whose thoughts are infested with life and its challenges, his love, his frustrations, his feeling that life is short and must be used to the fullest -- and by the power of Beethoven, who must have spoken to him: "Muß es sein?" -- "Es muß sein!" (cf. op. 135 from 1826).
Its recepient is an equally young and manifestly beautiful and intelligent, serious-minded and musical, sensitive and sensual woman who appears not to have answered the young man's half hidden hopes of something more. The letter is written onto the four blank pages of Rolland's book that are there before the book really begins, so to speak -- though to some observers the strong content and context of the letter and the young man's emotional temperature of November 1921 might be even more telling of Beethoven's impact on humans than Romain Rollard's text itself.
I wish upon most men of this world that they have experienced or will experience such storms in their lives and souls and I wish upon most women that they have been attacked or shall be attacked by the storms of such men:
"Next week I am going to India [no less!] to study religion [no less! look at me!] and filosophi [no less! listen to me! I want you to stop me!]. I shall never return to Norway [unless you give me a word!] [I am quoting Beethoven's Fifth at you!]." But somehow I fear that such emotions are of the distant past.
I have inherited the book from the lady in question, and I trust she will forgive me for relating the story and the letter. I am keeping the line breaks of the original: one line here is one djerv line in the 1921 letter.
Brev til Tante Ellen, november 1921
Boken "Beethoven" av Romain Rolland,
autoriseret oversættelse ved Signe Lehmann,
V. Pios boghandel, København, 1920,
har fire blanke sider før den omsider
begynner. Det er på disse fire sidene
avsenderen skriver til tante Ellen
en sen onsdagskveld i november 1921.
Chri^a 30/11 21
Kjære frøken Holst!
I de 3 aar jeg har
kjendt Dem har jeg ikke
set Dem paa nogen konsert.
Før gik jeg paa alle konserter.
Nu er jeg mere kræsen og
gaar kun paa de bedste.
Har De ingen glæde av
musik? Jeg sender Dem
denne bok for at den
muligens kan vække
Deres interesse for musikken.
Beethoven er, foruten den
største komponist, den
største kunstner og det mæst
overlegne menneske jeg
kjender. Han satte
godhet over alt. Det
største menneske er
ogsaa den største kunstner.
En kunstner som er et
slet menneske er ingen kunstner.
Han har intet
at gi.
Dog, gjennom Beethovens
kompositioner(^*) lærer man
mennesket Beethoven at
kjende langt bedre end
alle beskrivelser tilsammen.
Men beskrivelserne kan
lette en forstaaelsen.
Endskjønt jeg selv
dyrker maling og
filosophi sætter jeg
musikken over alt.
Den jager alle mørke
tanker paa flukt.
Ingen kunst forstaar
at fremkalde det
gode hos menneskene
som musikken. Og
paa bunden av ethvert
menneske ligger der
gjemt noget godt.
Selv hos de største
kjeltringer kan man
...
nei nu kommer jeg
over i psykologien og
da blir jeg aldrig
færdig.
Jeg reiser i næste
uke til Indien for
at studere religion og
filosophi. Til Norge
kommer jeg aldrig
tilbake. Før jeg reiser
vil jeg gjerne sende
Dem et par bøker
til som jeg sætter
uhyre pris paa.
Jeg skal ogsaa
sende Dem et brev
og undertegne det saa
tydelig at De kan
forstaa mit signature.
Men det ønsker jeg
ikke De skal faa
vite før jeg er
reist.
Læs denne bok
med alvor.
Deres
[**uforståelig indisk signatur**]
(*) Særlig vil jeg
anbefale Dem
den 5. symfoni.
Større kunst
end den gives
der ikke.
D.S. Læs ogsaa
Lammers bok om
store tonekunstnere.
uke til Indien for
at studere religion og
filosophi. Til Norge
kommer jeg aldrig
tilbake. "
Yes, I'm coming to that bit, in a little while, below.
Romain Rolland (1903): "Vie de Beethoven" ("Life of Beethoven", or translated simply to "Beethoven", in some languages)
Of course the spectacularly broad literary output of Romain Rolland, parts of which earned him the 1915 Nobel Prize, deserves our attention and one or more Nils reviews. He started writing at an early age (but actually publishing much later), made his doctoral degree in Latin about 16th century Italian painters, knew everything under the academic and artistic suns, etc. etc. And in addition to his ten-volume Jean-Christophe series he wrote about Great Men: Beethoven, Tolstoi, Danton, Gandhi, Goethe, Michelangelo, Ramakrishna, Vivekananda, Robespierre, Rousseau.
But on this particular occasion I decide *not* to directly Nils-review the great (but by definition old-fashioned and somewhat out-of-tune hundred years old) book about one of the greatest composers in world history --instead I cannot resist relating the following. It is a four-page letter written by an extremely bold, serious and high-strungly amibitious young man late one Wednesday night in November 1921, whose thoughts are infested with life and its challenges, his love, his frustrations, his feeling that life is short and must be used to the fullest -- and by the power of Beethoven, who must have spoken to him: "Muß es sein?" -- "Es muß sein!" (cf. op. 135 from 1826).
Its recepient is an equally young and manifestly beautiful and intelligent, serious-minded and musical, sensitive and sensual woman who appears not to have answered the young man's half hidden hopes of something more. The letter is written onto the four blank pages of Rolland's book that are there before the book really begins, so to speak -- though to some observers the strong content and context of the letter and the young man's emotional temperature of November 1921 might be even more telling of Beethoven's impact on humans than Romain Rollard's text itself.
I wish upon most men of this world that they have experienced or will experience such storms in their lives and souls and I wish upon most women that they have been attacked or shall be attacked by the storms of such men:
"Next week I am going to India [no less!] to study religion [no less! look at me!] and filosophi [no less! listen to me! I want you to stop me!]. I shall never return to Norway [unless you give me a word!] [I am quoting Beethoven's Fifth at you!]." But somehow I fear that such emotions are of the distant past.
I have inherited the book from the lady in question, and I trust she will forgive me for relating the story and the letter. I am keeping the line breaks of the original: one line here is one djerv line in the 1921 letter.
Brev til Tante Ellen, november 1921
Boken "Beethoven" av Romain Rolland,
autoriseret oversættelse ved Signe Lehmann,
V. Pios boghandel, København, 1920,
har fire blanke sider før den omsider
begynner. Det er på disse fire sidene
avsenderen skriver til tante Ellen
en sen onsdagskveld i november 1921.
Chri^a 30/11 21
Kjære frøken Holst!
I de 3 aar jeg har
kjendt Dem har jeg ikke
set Dem paa nogen konsert.
Før gik jeg paa alle konserter.
Nu er jeg mere kræsen og
gaar kun paa de bedste.
Har De ingen glæde av
musik? Jeg sender Dem
denne bok for at den
muligens kan vække
Deres interesse for musikken.
Beethoven er, foruten den
største komponist, den
største kunstner og det mæst
overlegne menneske jeg
kjender. Han satte
godhet over alt. Det
største menneske er
ogsaa den største kunstner.
En kunstner som er et
slet menneske er ingen kunstner.
Han har intet
at gi.
Dog, gjennom Beethovens
kompositioner(^*) lærer man
mennesket Beethoven at
kjende langt bedre end
alle beskrivelser tilsammen.
Men beskrivelserne kan
lette en forstaaelsen.
Endskjønt jeg selv
dyrker maling og
filosophi sætter jeg
musikken over alt.
Den jager alle mørke
tanker paa flukt.
Ingen kunst forstaar
at fremkalde det
gode hos menneskene
som musikken. Og
paa bunden av ethvert
menneske ligger der
gjemt noget godt.
Selv hos de største
kjeltringer kan man
...
nei nu kommer jeg
over i psykologien og
da blir jeg aldrig
færdig.
Jeg reiser i næste
uke til Indien for
at studere religion og
filosophi. Til Norge
kommer jeg aldrig
tilbake. Før jeg reiser
vil jeg gjerne sende
Dem et par bøker
til som jeg sætter
uhyre pris paa.
Jeg skal ogsaa
sende Dem et brev
og undertegne det saa
tydelig at De kan
forstaa mit signature.
Men det ønsker jeg
ikke De skal faa
vite før jeg er
reist.
Læs denne bok
med alvor.
Deres
[**uforståelig indisk signatur**]
(*) Særlig vil jeg
anbefale Dem
den 5. symfoni.
Større kunst
end den gives
der ikke.
D.S. Læs ogsaa
Lammers bok om
store tonekunstnere.
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Reading Progress
Finished Reading
Finished Reading
August 29, 2022
– Shelved