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Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Come see the north wind’s masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the famer’s lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer’s sighs; and at the gate
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind’s night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.
–Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Snow-Storm (1835) first published in May-Day and Other Pieces (1841) in: The Collected Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson, vol ix, pp 42-43 (1904)
Franz Schubert’s “Die Winterreise” (DV 911)(1827) is a cycle of Lieder composed–like the earlier cycle that helped establish his reputation, “Die schöne Müllerin”–to poems of Wilhelm Müller. But there is a striking shift in tone. Whereas the first cycle speaks of spring-time, effusive love and a green fuse: these songs are pathos-laden and dark, as if a spiritual winter has settled in to match the meteorological one. They speak in tones of white and gray; their love is unrequited; their artistry is great and unappreciated. Among the most beautiful and also most somber songs of the series is “Der Leiermann,” performed here by Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau with Alfred Brendel on the piano. It may actually mark an emotional low point for the composer, a sort of crisis of confidence–to which he alludes explicitly in a letter to his friend Eduard von Bauernfeld just as the cycle was being brought to paper: “You achieve honors and recognition as a comic dramatist,” he writes, “but as for myself, I despair for my future. Will I spend my old age like Goethe’s harpist, dragging myself from door to door, begging for my bread?” But was it Goethe’s harpist he then had in mind, and not indeed Müller’s “Leiermann” (hurdy-gurdy player) who “trods barefoot upon the ice, his small plate always empty?” Schubert’s realization of this poem is a masterstroke of emotional release, and the piano passages carry the pathos between the stanzas, matching the beautiful, somber and utterly winter-like melancholy of the piece.
Müller is of course a lesser poet of the period and his poetry is charming, but not much of a match for Schubert’s timeless music. But consider Emerson’s “Snow-Storm” which is without a doubt one of his truly great poems. It also marks something of a departure for a man known for landscapes of the human soul. Or does it? In this work, Emerson describes a snow-storm settling over a rural setting. But the poem takes a distinctive turn inwards at its conclusion, “when his hours are numbered, and the world/ Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,/ Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art/ To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone.” Emerson has adopted the images and thoughts that rule Schubert’s “Winterreise” and govern the composition of Caspar David Friedrich’s great winter landscapes. Was Emerson familiar with Schubert’s “Winterreise”? Considering the obsession that the American Transcendentalists had developed for German Romanticism of the period from 1790-1830, that should be taken as a foregone conclusion. But the spiritual ties between these works are so strong that they hardly need documentation.
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More from Scott Horton:
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No Comment — August 12, 2013, 7:55 am
How will the Obama Administration handle Edward Snowden’s case in the long term?
No Comment — July 29, 2013, 11:36 am
Is it possible to simply disband the partisan FISA court?
Fleming awoke in the dark and his room felt loose, sloshing so badly he gripped the bed. From his window there was nothing but a hallway, and if he craned his neck, a blown lightbulb swung into view. The room pitched up and down and for a moment he thought he might be sick. The word “hallway” must have a nautical name. Why didn’t they supply a glossary for this cruise? Probably they had, in the welcome packet he’d failed to read. A glossary. A history of the boat, which would be referred to as a ship. Sunny biographies of the captain and crew, who had always dreamed of this life. Lobotomized histories of the islands they’d visit. Who else had sailed this way. Famous suckwads from the past, slicing through this very water on wooden longships.
A welcome packet, the literary genre most likely to succeed in the new millennium. Why not read about a community you don’t belong to, that doesn’t actually exist, a captain and crew who are, in reality, if that isn’t too much of a downer on your vacation, as indifferent to one another as any set of co-employees at an office or bank? Read doctored personal statements from underpaid crew members — because ocean life pays better than money! — who hate their lives but have been forced to buy into the mythology of working on a boat, separated now from loved ones and friends, growing lonelier by the second, even while they wait on you and follow your every order.
Number of people stopped and frisked by the NYPD in 2011 for “furtive movements”:
The faces of Lego people were growing angrier.
Four people were arrested for using a remote-controlled hexacopter to fly two pounds of tobacco to prisoners inside the yard at Calhoun State Prison in Georgia.
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Our congratulations to Alice Munro, winner of the 2013 Nobel Prize for Literature