Conversations with Beethoven

by Sanford Friedman

  Perhaps if he were charging you room and board, you might request roast beef, but hardly as his guest.

  My shoulder?

  But I felt nothing. Are you certain?

  If indeed Fat Stuff touched me on the shoulder before resuming her seat, I am completely unaware of it.

  To post the letters. Are we not finished?

  At Krems, naturally, since I cannot post them here.

  Rest assured that there is scarcely time to walk to Krems and back, let alone to play at billiards.

  • • •

  Master Brother, when you say still hungry, Mistress say she order Bratwurst.

  Son say Mistress not fret, Master Brother not starve.

  Never hear Mistress and Son say thou and thee.

  Sometime Mistress say Karl for Son, sometime Son say Aunt for Mistress.

  Not see Mistress come back to table. Michael mostly listen not look.

  At supper no one mention goose, mostly grape harvest.

  Master say harvest this week.

  Thursday.

  Beside harvest Master say how much new coach spring cost, how much fix harness, how much blacksmith, how much

  Mistress say how much Master Brother cost.

  Master Brother angry with Michael?

  With Mistress, Michael understand.

  Michael also surprise how much Michael remember.

  Master Brother wish report every night?

  But so much left out.

  Left out Master say daughter of tenant give birth today.

  Again Master Brother trick Michael.

  Naturally Michael not forget gift—From now on Michael report every night.

  • • •

  Master Brother, today harvest. Please grant Michael favor.

  Please excuse Michael one time not report tonight. At sundown all go to vintner in Krems.

  Celebrate harvest.

  Eating and drinking and firework.

  Yes singing and dancing, naturally.

  Yes teasing girls.

  Sometimes put snake down dress.

  Yes other pranks.

  Forget now.

  Other boy, not Michael.

  Michael no girl friend.

  Michael tell truth.

  Cannot help blush.

  Many thanks for favor.

  Even with favor Michael must report after dinner?

  Dinner today too many people, not listen well.

  Not only family but all harvester.

  Not in dining room, outside at big table. Not hear what Master and Mistress and

  Cattle? No cattle near table.

  Too many people together, Michael understand.

  Master Brother not eat with cattle, eat in room. Michael go tell

  Mistress.

  • • •

  Brother-in-law, I would be more than pleased to have Michael serve you in your rooms, were it not that he is obliged to serve twenty-two harvesters, a dozen brats, the five of us and three or four bigwigs who always show up uninvited.

  Certainly not, under no circumstances will I hear of your foregoing dinner, especially today when I myself have prepared a dish for you that I hear you cannot live without.

  Tenderloin of beef!

  A little birdy told me.

  Very well, if you insist it was your nephew.

  On the contrary, his only object in telling me was to satisfy you.

  Please don’t make so much of it.

  Frankly I haven’t time to argue; I’ll instruct Michael to bring you yours the moment he has finished serving the harvesters.

  No, no, it’s settled—Bon appetit!

  • • •

  Yes Master Brother, beef ragout.

  Why Mistress call ragout tenderloin?

  So many people, Mistress serve cheap wine.

  Michael fetch coffee?

  Good wine under lock and key.

  After meal Master Brother watch harvest?

  Must finish quartet, Michael understand.

  Mistress too busy, not pick grape.

  Daughter not pick, stamp.

  Daughter pull up dress.

  Otherwise dress stain.

  Michael not look.

  Not see anything.

  Cannot help blush.

  Daughter pull up dress to knee.

  Again Master Brother trick Michael.

  Son not pick, only look.

  Tell Son come here 3 o’clock, Michael understand.

  • • •

  “Darling, why didn’t you come to meet me in the vineyard today?”

  Uncle, you have forgotten your Goethe; it’s from Roman Elegies.

  To celebrate the harvest I may have taken a drop more than I usually do.

  None of that formaldehyde for me; I filled my glass in the house.

  Rest assured that I have no special influence with the mistress.—I would like you to come with me now up to the vineyard.

  Because you’ll find it entertaining.

  Indeed that is so, but how did you hear of it already?

  Spies even here? I’ve not seen Holz in Gneixendorf.

  Well, whoever it was, he spoke the truth. Customarily the women pick while the men tread, but in Slut’s case she suddenly hitched up her skirts and climbed into the wine tub. Needless to say, she caused quite a stir.

  On the contrary her avoirdupois served her well: she brought forth every precious drop, so to speak. What is more, even as she labored mightily, Slut applied herself con brio to singing saucy harvest songs. Believe me, it was better than any marionnette show in town.

  I haven’t spoken of the mother, inasmuch as the mother wasn’t in the vineyard this morning. However, she is there now and picking with the others.

  By no means did I mention the beef in a spirit of intrigue but simply in answer to her query. Fat Stuff asks me all but daily what dishes will please you most.

  She said nothing of going to Krems tonight; this is the first I hear of it.

  If the others go, I’ll go too.

  For no other reason than that I need the recreation; there is too little amusement here.

  Seeing that certain players cannot bear to lose, a game of cards is not that enjoyable.—Have you any objection to my going?

  In that case I’ll tag along with them.

  • • •

  Brother, would you believe that a fortnight has passed since your arrival?

  Tempus fugit—Thus it behooves you to decide now whether you plan to remain with us.

  Everyone has gone to Krems.

  My wife went with them—she wished to keep an eye on her daughter.

  I trust that you enjoyed the soup.

  I heard you the first time, naturally. However, I was waiting for the cook to finish serving and shut the door—the old witch eavesdrops. In answer to your question I have no need to keep an eye on my wife.

  You are dwelling on bygones—the dalliance of which you speak occurred three years ago.

  That she took a lover is indisputable; that she received him in the house while I lay gravely ill is best forgotten.

  Whether the man fucked her three times or four is beside the point—What matters is that my wife surrendered her marriage contract afterwards and entered into an agreement which, as you know, permits me to throw her out the instant she takes up with anyone else.

  But there has been no one since. Therese is now 52 years old—my own age, to be sure. Alas, there comes a time when the connubial appetite, let alone its means of expression, shrinks!

  Confound that cook! Note the shadow under the door—the witch is still listening! Since we are speaking of my wife, etc., please write your part henceforth.

  If only you would throw her out, I would gladly stay in Gneixendorf.

  Although she isn’t the best cook in the world, she is a hardworker.

  I’m speaking of your wife!

  But my wife has done nothing to warrant such treatment.

  Better still, throw them both out, she and her big-b
osomed bastard.

  I fail to see how Amalie

  Brother, imagine how blissful it would be with just the three of us —you, me and Karl! At 52 there are more pressing things to think about than one’s shrinking member. When your time comes, do you wish to give up the ghost in the hands of a woman as depraved as your wife?

  Come now, I’m not about to give up the ghost, thanks be to God! Indeed it’s you who suffers from poor health. In whose hands will you be, my worthy brother?

  In Karl’s naturally!

  Karl will be in the army.

  Perhaps

  Don’t be so mysterious.

  Have you noticed his scar of late?

  Although I have but one good eye, I’d have to be blind in both to miss it.

  Well, perhaps the hair will never grow in.

  Perhaps not, but it will surely overgrow the scar.

  Who knows—However, until it does we must stay here.

  Then let us put aside my wife whom you encounter, after all, only at table.—It’s obvious from the progress of the quartet that you work well here—with or without trees! You have a fondness for Michael, the food is better than you acknowledge, your health has improved-—In short Gneixendorf is a veritable paradise for you. Moreover in light of our nephew’s hair—Why, what choice have you but to stay? You must.

  “Must it be?”

  “It must be.”

  So be it.

  Still, I need hardly remind you that you were invited for only a fortnight. If you now wish to stay longer—Well, as much as I would like to keep you as a guest, frankly I can’t afford it.

  Never mind, I need no charity from you—thank God!

  Believe me, I would gladly do a good deal more were I not so hard pressed for taxes.

  Please, spare me the lamentabile.

  In that case I’ll not mince words—If you wish to live with us, you can have everything for 40 gulden.

  A fortnight!

  What do you take me for—a month, of course.

  Swindler!

  Don’t be asinine—I’ll see no profit from it, not a penny! Why, the wood alone

  What wood! Your wife stints me! The room in which I work is like an ice-cellar—I’m forever on the verge of chilblains there.

  Come now, you exaggerate. In any case it’s a good deal warmer here in spring and summer—Besides, if you stay eight months you won’t need such capacious quarters.

  And if I tug on the corset strings and squeeze myself into smaller quarters—nay, into one miserable servant’s room, how much will you charge me?

  500 gulden per anum

  Bloodsucker!!!

  Calm yourself lest you have a stroke like our worthy grandfather—Since arithmetic was never your strong suit, I’ll reckon it for you—40 gulden a month amounts to 500 gulden per anum; that is only half your pension—So where, pray tell, is the bloodsucking?

  You said eight months, not a year.

  Let’s not haggle; I’ll do whatever pleases you. Indeed there is no rush—take your time and think it over.

  In truth I’ll think of nothing until I finish the quartet.

  • • •

  GNEIXENDORF, OCTOBER 13, 1826

  My dear Stephan,

  We are writing to you from Signor Fratello’s freezing fortress.

  My last quartet, the one for Schlesinger, is now finished. What trouble it gave me! I was so indecisive, perhaps because I was thinking of a more far-reaching work, but whatever the reason I simply could not bring myself to compose the last movement. Accordingly, I have given it a title, The hard-won decision; and a motto stands at the head, Must it be?—It must be! The 80 ducats due me will come in handy, seeing that brother Skinflint is lurking in the wings with outstretched palm. Meanwhile, I must find a copyist and get to work on the new finale for the B flat quartet.

  Our reason for staying on a little longer is the lovely weather and the fact that Karl’s scar is still quite visible. However, I would not want the Field-Marshal to forget his promise of a cadetship, so please remind him of it, but cunningly.

  I shall see you very soon. May God bless you.

  With love, your

  LUDWIG

  P.S. Do give my love to your wife and children. I trust that Gerhard is practicing night and day; please remind him that Prospero hovers over him unseen.

  Uncle, you are mistaken if you think that my tune has changed; I’m every bit as eager now as I was three weeks ago to join the regiment. The obstacle, as you yourself just pointed out to Breuning, is the scar.

  I don’t know what “signs” you are speaking of.—With the exception of harvest day, I am utterly bored here. In fact I was about to suggest that we have a little party this evening.

  To celebrate the completion of the new quartet. We should open a bottle of champagne and play some pieces together.

  If Fat Stuff refuses, I’ll pay for the wine out of my own pocket.

  I stand corrected, out of your pocket.

  You shouldn’t blame her for that; she would hardly stint on wood if your brother didn’t give the order.

  I’m not trying to protect her. Yet considering how cheap wood is, I can’t imagine what your brother has in mind. Why, a cord lasts an eternity.

  Have I your permission to request the champagne?

  And if they balk, may I say you’ll pay for it yourself?

  Well and good; and to warm up the fortress I’ll bring Lannoy’s Marches downstairs for us to play four hands.

  • • •

  Master Brother, Michael know from smile quartet finish.

  After loud piano when everyone at table Mistress ask why Son not let Mistress play too.

  Not with Son—why Master Brother not play with Mistress. Michael not understand how two play one piano.

  Cook and Michael in dining room, not see only hear.

  Four hand, Michael understand.

  Son say piece too hard for Mistress. Mistress say Master Brother deaf so no matter.

  She say piece hard for Master Brother too, make many mistake.

  She say Master Brother play too loud.

  She say Master Brother play too soft.

  She say—but Michael not tell.

  She say Master Brother play like bear.

  Please Master Brother, Mistress hear shouting.

  Son not say anything of four hand, only of quartet and who copy.

  Now quartet finish Master Brother sleep late tomorrow?

  Another quartet?

  Then Michael bring hot water usual time.

  • • •

  Brother, I have combed the countryside but to no avail.

  Money aside, there is simply not a copyist in all of Krems.

  Would you consider permitting our nephew

  It was just a thought.

  In that case you have no choice but to undertake the job yourself.

  • • •

  Brother, the damned vulture postponed my taxes for a couple of days, yet not without exacting a hefty bribe—or interest, as he styles it. He’ll look the other way until the 3rd. Hence the copying must be finished by the 30th—Will you be ready?

  “Perhaps” is not good enough. Indeed I can’t possibly go into town, deliver the score to the bookdealer and be back by the 3rd unless I leave at dawn on the 31st.

  Mismanagement has nothing to do with it—I wouldn’t be in this scrape if I hadn’t had two extra mouths to feed.

  Now let us pray that the dealer has received the 80 ducats as promised.

  • • •

  Uncle, the note to the bookdealer need not be lengthy.

  GNEIXENDORF, OCTOBER 30, 1826

  Sir!

  I am sending you by my brother my latest violin quartet composed for Mr. Schlesinger; and I request you to hand to the former the fee of 80 ducats deposited with you for this purpose; and I herewith acknowledge receipt of said amount.

  With kindest regards

  your most devoted

  LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN

&n
bsp; Uncle, we might just as well attend to the other one now.

  GNEIXENDORF, OCTOBER 30, 1826

  My dear Schlesinger,

  Just see what an unfortunate fellow I am. First of all, it has been difficult to compose this because I was thinking of a much greater work. I composed it solely because I had promised it to you and needed the money. That it was difficult for me to do so you can gather from the “It must be.” But a further source of irritation was that in order to have it quite accurate and easy to engrave I wanted to send it to you in parts; and in all Krems I could not find a copyist. So I had to copy it myself. Well, that was a gruelling piece of work, I can assure you! Ugh, it is finished! Amen!

  In great haste, your most devoted

  BEETHOVEN

  Uncle, I most certainly take what you say to heart; indeed I went again to Krems this morning, but the pharmacist still lacked one of the ingredients. Hence he could not compound the salve.

  In my opinion the stuff is useless anyway since there is no sign of improvement.

  Six weeks ago—I started applying it the day the bandages were removed, yet the scar is as noticeable now as it was then.