Anyway! Today I shall attempt to not rant and to focus on a single text. My success rate at this sort of thing has not been so good (I was making notes for this when you called on me, Dr. Brewton, so I wasn't doodling).
It hasn't been a good few days to be a German-minded person. In history yesterday the Rhine-Danube line between Roman civilization and Germanic barbarism was brought up. Several derogatory remarks about Germans were muttered by various members of the class. It didn't really bother me, since I am used to people regarding Germans, and particularly German Catholics, as a bigoted, backwards, and benighted bunch (how's that for alliteration?), but I was kind of amused. I highly doubt they knew my family comes from Bavaria.
To compound my frustration, we are doing Goethe. Not that there is anything wrong with doing Goethe, it's just that we are doing Faust, and I'd much rather do The Erl-King (or, Der Erl-Koenig, as Goethe wrote it). I have a weird fascination for Der Erl-Koenig, which I shall relate in a little bit. First, I have to bash our literature book for its COMPLETE and UTTER FAILURE. It shall never arise from its ashes of shame and humilitation... *cue screenshot of Azula*
My point about the literature book is that it offered a pronunciation guide for the work. Not in itself a bad thing, seeing as how most people flail and kevail over foreign words and mangle them. (Me and French, for example. French and I do not agree. It's a German/French dog/cat sort of thing.) BUT THE PRONUNCIATION GUIDE WAS WRONG. WRONG, WRONG, WRONG. I could only laugh in bewilderment at what they were saying the words should sound like.
For instance: they said Goethe should be pronounced 'GAY-tuh'. No joke. I snorted at that. They got the consonants right, and that's about it. German vowels are more complex than English vowels. We tend to reduce everything to a schwa and get on with our lives. It doesn't work that way in German. The 'oe' in Goethe does not sound like a long o or like 'oy' (as it does in Sindarin), but is meant to represent o-umlaut (an o with two little marks over it). The o-umlaut sound is made by making the sound for 'eh' in one's throat but by shaping the lips in the o position. This yields a weird sound that has no relation in English. (There is also u-umlaut and a-umlaut, for your information.)
So there was my rant about the pronunciation guide. Sorry, Dr. Brewton, but it seems that no matter what I do I end up ranting about something or other. *sigh*
Goethe was basically to German what Shakespeare was to English. As a matter of fact, they have named the Goethe Institut after him. (No, it's not supposed to have an e at the end of 'Institut'. It's the German spelling of that word.) The Goethe Institut spreads German language, arts, and culture. 2013 is the Year of Wagner. If you don't know anything about Wagner... *sigh* Oh, yeah. I forget that not everyone has taken six years of German or 14 years of piano.
He was a very famous German composer of operas, etc., okay? He did Lohengrin and the Niebelungenlied (whence, some people claim, Tolkien got the idea for the One Ring). "The Ride of the Valkyries" song? Yeah, he did that.
Anyway! I should now explain my weird fascination with Goethe's Der Erl-Koenig. I won't annoy you with the German version, as much as I'd love to. But I think I should inflict the full length of a literal English translation upon you all. Because I have troll tendencies. XD
Who is riding, so late, through night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He has the boy well in his arm
He holds him safely, he keeps him warm.
"My son, why do you hide your face so anxiously?"
"Father, do you not see the Erl-King?
The Erl-King with his crown and tail?"
"My son, it's a wisp of fog."
"You dear child, come, go with me!
Very lovely games I'll play with you;
Many colourful flowers are on the shore,
My mother has many golden robes."
"My father, my father, and don't you hear
What Erl-King quietly promises me?"
"Be calm, stay calm, my child;
The wind is rustling through withered leaves."
"Do you want to come with me, pretty boy?
My daughters shall wait on you finely;
My daughters will lead the nightly dance,
And rock and dance and sing you to sleep."
"My father, my father, and don't you see there
Erl-King's daughters in the gloomy place?"
"My son, my son, I see it clearly:
There shimmer the old willows so grey."
"I love you, your beautiful form entices me;
And if you're not willing, then I'll use force."
"My father, my father, he's grabbing me now!
Erl-King has done me some harm!"
It horrifies the father; he swiftly rides on,
He holds the moaning child in his arms,
Reaches the yard with trouble and hardship;
In his arms, the child was dead.
Charming little story, isn't it? If it was too much for you to decipher, it's basically about a father riding home late one night with his son. The boy tells the father he can see an evil woodland fairy king, the Erl-King, and that the Erl-King is trying to take him away. The father dismisses this as fog, trees, etc. Finally, the child shrieks that the Erl-King has got him. The father spurs the horse on; they reach the courtyard of their house, and the father finds that his child is dead in his arms.
Lovely poem, really. I mean, it's really something you should read as a bedtime story for your little ones. And is it the Erl-King, or is it merely the child's hallucinations? No one knows. That's the thing.
Now, there is a bit of a debate about the meaning and etymology of 'Erl-King'. Apparently, it was supposed to be 'Elf-King' (which would have been Elfen-Koenig), but as it stands it means King of the Alders/Elders/however you want to spell it. An elder tree. In fact, the same sort of tree that the ultimate wand in Harry Potter's world, the Elder Wand, is made out of!
MIND. BLOWN.
As a matter of fact, when I was reading The Deathly Hallows, the Erl-King was all I could think of during that part. I was like, "Uh-oh, it's an elder tree, that's a bad sign- everyone knows that means the Erl-King!" But of course few people actually know this.
WHY do I know so much about Der Erl-Koenig, though, you ask? Well. Through highschool (yes, the entire four years), I had a ginormous piano book composed solely of works by Franz Liszt. I have no idea why I picked Liszt. Actually, I do. When I still went to a private elementary school (so I couldn't have been any older than eight or so), the music teacher showed us a movie about Liszt's life. I can't remember anything about it now, except for that he had a weird and violent style of playing the piano.
Fast forward ten or so years, and I still had my weird preference for Liszt over Beethoven. (The horror, I know. I now have a ginormous piano book composed solely of works by Beethoven.) So I got that infamous book. The first song, "By the Lake of Wallenstadt," was really pretty and not too hard and deceived me utterly about the rest of the book.
BECAUSE LISZT WAS A DEMON PIANIST AND APPARENTLY ASSUMED EVERYONE ELSE COULD DO PIANO ACROBATICS JUST LIKE HIM.
He wrote the Hungarian Rhapsodies, okay? I had to learn two of them- the most famous one, No. 2, and the slightly more bearable one, No. 6. (I did like his "La Regatta Venetiana", though. It was a lot of fun to play, and it was only six pages long. Not, say, oh, SIXTEEN, like Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2.)
As a matter of fact, my inability to play Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 as it should be played was a big reason why I had a minor bout of hero worship of someone real. (Most of my fangirling, if you want to call it that, safely involves fictional people.) When I was still in high school, Shoals OnStage hosted the 5 Browns here at UNA and they had a concert in Norton Auditorium. Since I imagine most of you know nothing about the 5 Browns, they are a group of five Mormon siblings who all play the piano and attended Juliard simultaneously. They can play 5-piano pieces together at once in perfect timing, all the pianos arranged in a semicircle. AMAZING. They haven't been touring much lately since one of the girls had a baby, but the other two girls keep up a 'modest fashion' blog and my sister checks it regularly. Anyway, one of them, Gregory Brown, played Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2.
And did it perfectly.
MIND. BLOWN.
They autographed stuff and talked with the fans after the concert. My sister of course got her CD's autographed and was happily chatting with them. Me? Standing there awkwardly, wanting desperately to say something like, "Ohmigosh, that was amazing! I've tried to learn Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 and I can't play it anything like that!" However, if I had said that, I would have felt obliged to crawl away under the nearest table and hope the earth opened up and swallowed me. Heaven help me, but I cannot bring myself to talk to people.
They were really nice. It's a pity I couldn't say something.
As a matter of fact, my inability to play Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 as it should be played was a big reason why I had a minor bout of hero worship of someone real. (Most of my fangirling, if you want to call it that, safely involves fictional people.) When I was still in high school, Shoals OnStage hosted the 5 Browns here at UNA and they had a concert in Norton Auditorium. Since I imagine most of you know nothing about the 5 Browns, they are a group of five Mormon siblings who all play the piano and attended Juliard simultaneously. They can play 5-piano pieces together at once in perfect timing, all the pianos arranged in a semicircle. AMAZING. They haven't been touring much lately since one of the girls had a baby, but the other two girls keep up a 'modest fashion' blog and my sister checks it regularly. Anyway, one of them, Gregory Brown, played Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2.
And did it perfectly.
MIND. BLOWN.
They autographed stuff and talked with the fans after the concert. My sister of course got her CD's autographed and was happily chatting with them. Me? Standing there awkwardly, wanting desperately to say something like, "Ohmigosh, that was amazing! I've tried to learn Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 and I can't play it anything like that!" However, if I had said that, I would have felt obliged to crawl away under the nearest table and hope the earth opened up and swallowed me. Heaven help me, but I cannot bring myself to talk to people.
They were really nice. It's a pity I couldn't say something.
Anyway, Schubert originally set Der Erl-Koenig to music, but Liszt later took his version and changed it up. I've heard Schubert's is scarier to hear since it keeps the triplet pattern all the way through, but Liszt's version is practically a nightmare to play already. I'll DEFINITELY have to find a video so I can give the rest of you nightmares.
The 1-2-3 beat of the triplets is meant to imitate the flying hooves of the horse (at a canter, a horse's hooves strike three beats- only three, since two hooves hit the ground at the same time). Oh, and that rattling upswing and jarring dun-dun-dun on the left hand is eerie, too. A lot of fun to play, if you're of a weird bend of mind, but exhausting and very, very, difficult.
My personal creepy fascination with Der Erl-Koenig therefore actually has more to do with the Liszt version of it (and the fact that I now permanently associate the song with a character in my stories that I write), but it remains a creepy fascination that needs to be shared with the class. Because I have troll tendencies and want to give everyone nightmares. Oh, and I think it counts as making the blog interactive, doncha think?
This is a VERY long post. Perhaps I should (again) start a new one? Nah. It'd look really small and sad compared to this one. On with more Goethe!
So in class we discussed why Faust in Goethe's long poem (I'd like to compare it to Marlowe's Faustus and play a game of spot-the-differences) has everything a medieval scholar should want- a scholastic reputation, a devoted pupil, the accolades of the populace, knowledge of practically everything Man Was Meant to Know and a good bit of what Man Was Not Meant to Know. However, he is not happy. Part of the reason could be that he has lost his faith, and is seeking to replace it by dabbling in the black arts.
I think we could sum up Faust's modus vivandi/operandi as being For Science! He craves knowledge for the sake of knowledge; he has made it his First Thing. However, knowledge alone cannot give happiness or satisfy the soul, so it is no wonder he has fallen to the pits of despair.
This is more or less what most people think of when they hear the word 'chemistry'. Without actually putting it in those words, they assume it works on magical and unknowable principles. They also like to assume that it involves lots of brightly colored 'potions' and explosions. Reality is much more mundane.
I would like to take the moment to identify Faust as having Genre Blindness of the highest degree. As most readers of fantasy novels could tell you, summoning and controlling spirits is NEVER a good idea. After all, it's what turned Carsaib into Durza the Shade in the Eragon series (*sarcasm mode* oh, beg pardon, I suppose I should call it the Inheritance Cycle). The bargain is NEVER a good idea. Almost every time, the spirits escape control, take over the sorcerer/alchemist/mad scientist/whatever he calls himself, and procede to wreak havoc upon the world.
I mean, Faust doesn't even see what's the big deal with signing a contract in blood! I mean, seriously, dude, NEVER sign a contract in your own blood. Bad things always, always ensue. That's what happens (spoilers!) in Fire Emblem Radiant Dawn. TWICE. First, Pelleas signs a contract and ensures that you have to fight Micaiah and her pathetic Dawn Brigade, and then that you have to actually use them. And they were useless. Then you learn that Naesala, the Raven King, who is decidely not useless, had a blood contract himself. However, he didn't sign it himself; he is practically the king of cunning and would never have been tricked into that. He inherited it from the previous king. He does promise to tell Tibarn how he inherited the throne, but the conversation apparently never happens. Pity. I would have liked to know.
When Dr. Brewton asked if we could give any contemporary examples of a Faustian bargain, I couldn't think of a contemporary one, but I can give one from a movie! In fact, the first thing I thought of was The Empire Strikes Back, where Lando Calrissian makes a deal with Darth Vader. Vader, of course, keeps demanding more and more of him: "Pray I do not alter the bargain further."
Boys and girls, the moral of this story is: NEVER bargain with demons or Sith lords. They always get the better end of the bargain.
This is a VERY long post. Perhaps I should (again) start a new one? Nah. It'd look really small and sad compared to this one. On with more Goethe!
So in class we discussed why Faust in Goethe's long poem (I'd like to compare it to Marlowe's Faustus and play a game of spot-the-differences) has everything a medieval scholar should want- a scholastic reputation, a devoted pupil, the accolades of the populace, knowledge of practically everything Man Was Meant to Know and a good bit of what Man Was Not Meant to Know. However, he is not happy. Part of the reason could be that he has lost his faith, and is seeking to replace it by dabbling in the black arts.
I think we could sum up Faust's modus vivandi/operandi as being For Science! He craves knowledge for the sake of knowledge; he has made it his First Thing. However, knowledge alone cannot give happiness or satisfy the soul, so it is no wonder he has fallen to the pits of despair.
This is more or less what most people think of when they hear the word 'chemistry'. Without actually putting it in those words, they assume it works on magical and unknowable principles. They also like to assume that it involves lots of brightly colored 'potions' and explosions. Reality is much more mundane.
I would like to take the moment to identify Faust as having Genre Blindness of the highest degree. As most readers of fantasy novels could tell you, summoning and controlling spirits is NEVER a good idea. After all, it's what turned Carsaib into Durza the Shade in the Eragon series (*sarcasm mode* oh, beg pardon, I suppose I should call it the Inheritance Cycle). The bargain is NEVER a good idea. Almost every time, the spirits escape control, take over the sorcerer/alchemist/mad scientist/whatever he calls himself, and procede to wreak havoc upon the world.
I mean, Faust doesn't even see what's the big deal with signing a contract in blood! I mean, seriously, dude, NEVER sign a contract in your own blood. Bad things always, always ensue. That's what happens (spoilers!) in Fire Emblem Radiant Dawn. TWICE. First, Pelleas signs a contract and ensures that you have to fight Micaiah and her pathetic Dawn Brigade, and then that you have to actually use them. And they were useless. Then you learn that Naesala, the Raven King, who is decidely not useless, had a blood contract himself. However, he didn't sign it himself; he is practically the king of cunning and would never have been tricked into that. He inherited it from the previous king. He does promise to tell Tibarn how he inherited the throne, but the conversation apparently never happens. Pity. I would have liked to know.
When Dr. Brewton asked if we could give any contemporary examples of a Faustian bargain, I couldn't think of a contemporary one, but I can give one from a movie! In fact, the first thing I thought of was The Empire Strikes Back, where Lando Calrissian makes a deal with Darth Vader. Vader, of course, keeps demanding more and more of him: "Pray I do not alter the bargain further."
Boys and girls, the moral of this story is: NEVER bargain with demons or Sith lords. They always get the better end of the bargain.
What? It's an awesome picture! Not to mention, I think the Nazgul beat the Sith any day. The Sith are infamous for going all Drunk On The Dark Side and dying by being thrown down reactor shafts. They are also incredibly hammy. Meanwhile, the Nazgul are genuinely terrifying (they easily beat the Great Flaming Eyeball of Sauron in this respect) and can only be killed in extremely special circumstances.
Anyway. I'd also like to quote Gandalf on Faustian bargains: "Perilous to us all are the devices of an art deeper than that which we ourselves possess." (I may not have the wording exactly right. My brother has borrowed The Two Towers and I can't find where he's hidden it.) C'mon, people, Gandalf is always right about these things...
I'd also like to state that, having made his eponymous bargain with Mephistopheles (what a name) for the ultimate knowledge of the world and the demon's service, Faust then undergoes a rapid Motive Decay and just wants to experience all the pleasures in the world. His asking Mephistopheles to apparently kill him once he hits self-complacency is puzzling, though. I just don't understand Faust's mind. Which is probably a good thing, since I'd imagine is a dark place, full of, of course, Things Man Was Not Meant To Know.
Mephistopheles himself gives riddling answers. It reminds me of Gollum and of Smaug, not entirely inappropriately. Gollum, however, is Creepy Awesome and Nightmare Fuel in ways that Mephistopheles, the demon in gentleman's clothes with a rapier, will never be able to achieve, and Smaug, well...
Let's just say even I find this gif hypnotizing, and leave it at that.
In Pace Christi,
Elyse
Anyway. I'd also like to quote Gandalf on Faustian bargains: "Perilous to us all are the devices of an art deeper than that which we ourselves possess." (I may not have the wording exactly right. My brother has borrowed The Two Towers and I can't find where he's hidden it.) C'mon, people, Gandalf is always right about these things...
I'd also like to state that, having made his eponymous bargain with Mephistopheles (what a name) for the ultimate knowledge of the world and the demon's service, Faust then undergoes a rapid Motive Decay and just wants to experience all the pleasures in the world. His asking Mephistopheles to apparently kill him once he hits self-complacency is puzzling, though. I just don't understand Faust's mind. Which is probably a good thing, since I'd imagine is a dark place, full of, of course, Things Man Was Not Meant To Know.
Mephistopheles himself gives riddling answers. It reminds me of Gollum and of Smaug, not entirely inappropriately. Gollum, however, is Creepy Awesome and Nightmare Fuel in ways that Mephistopheles, the demon in gentleman's clothes with a rapier, will never be able to achieve, and Smaug, well...
In Pace Christi,
Elyse
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