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Death in Venice
The world-famous masterpiece by Nobel laureate Thomas Mann -- here in a new translation by Michael Henry Heim.
Published on the eve of World War I, a decade after Buddenbrooks had established Thomas Mann as a literary celebrity, Death in Venice tells the story of Gustav von Aschenbach, a successful but aging writer who follows his wanderlust to Venice in search of spiritual fulfillment that instead leads to his erotic doom.
In the decaying city, besieged by an unnamed epidemic, he becomes obsessed with an exquisite Polish boy, Tadzio. "It is a story of the voluptuousness of doom," Mann wrote. "But the problem I had especially in mind was that of the artist's dignity."
Published on the eve of World War I, a decade after Buddenbrooks had established Thomas Mann as a literary celebrity, Death in Venice tells the story of Gustav von Aschenbach, a successful but aging writer who follows his wanderlust to Venice in search of spiritual fulfillment that instead leads to his erotic doom.
In the decaying city, besieged by an unnamed epidemic, he becomes obsessed with an exquisite Polish boy, Tadzio. "It is a story of the voluptuousness of doom," Mann wrote. "But the problem I had especially in mind was that of the artist's dignity."
142 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1912
About the author
Thomas Mann
1,635 books4,457 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name. See this thread for more information.
See also:
Serbian: Tomas Man
Thomas Mann was a German novelist, short story writer, social critic, philanthropist, essayist, and Nobel Prize laureate in 1929, known for his series of highly symbolic and ironic epic novels and novellas, noted for their insight into the psychology of the artist and the intellectual. His analysis and critique of the European and German soul used modernized German and Biblical stories, as well as the ideas of Goethe, Nietzsche, and Schopenhauer. His older brother was the radical writer Heinrich Mann, and three of his six children, Erika Mann, Klaus Mann and Golo Mann, also became important German writers. When Hitler came to power in 1933, Mann fled to Switzerland. When World War II broke out in 1939, he emigrated to the United States, from where he returned to Switzerland in 1952. Thomas Mann is one of the best-known exponents of the so-called Exilliteratur.
See also:
Serbian: Tomas Man
Thomas Mann was a German novelist, short story writer, social critic, philanthropist, essayist, and Nobel Prize laureate in 1929, known for his series of highly symbolic and ironic epic novels and novellas, noted for their insight into the psychology of the artist and the intellectual. His analysis and critique of the European and German soul used modernized German and Biblical stories, as well as the ideas of Goethe, Nietzsche, and Schopenhauer. His older brother was the radical writer Heinrich Mann, and three of his six children, Erika Mann, Klaus Mann and Golo Mann, also became important German writers. When Hitler came to power in 1933, Mann fled to Switzerland. When World War II broke out in 1939, he emigrated to the United States, from where he returned to Switzerland in 1952. Thomas Mann is one of the best-known exponents of the so-called Exilliteratur.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 4,009 reviews
January 30, 2023
A short review because there are 3,000+ others! [Edited 1/30/23]
A well-established older German man visits Venice and falls in love with a 14-year-old boy on the beach. Here is a key passage very early in the novella (about 75 pages) that illustrates the author’s writing style:
“He [the 14-year old Polish boy] entered through the glass doors and passed diagonally across the room to his sisters at their table. He walked with extraordinary grace – the carriage of the body, the action of the knee, the way he set his foot down in its white shoe – it was all so light, it was at once dainty and proud, it wore an added charm in the childish shyness which made him twice turn his head as he crossed the room, made him give a quick glance and then drop his eyes. He took his seat, with a smile and a murmured word in his soft and blurry tongue; and Aschenbach, sitting so that he could see him in profile, was astonished anew, yes, startled, at the godlike beauty of the human being. The lad had on a light sailor suit of blue and white striped cotton, with a red silk breast-knot and a simple white standing collar round the neck – a not very elegant effect – yet above this collar the head was poised like a flower, an incomparable loveliness. It was the head of Eros, with the yellowish bloom of Parian marble, with fine serious brows, and dusky clustering ringlets standing out in soft plenteousness over temples and ears.”
The older man constantly monitors the boy in the hotel dining room and at the beach and eventually starts stalking the boy as he travels through Venice with his family.
But a plague is also stalking Venice. He considers leaving the city because of the 'miasma' but decides to stay because of the boy – a bad decision.
Mann uses many classical references: in just a few pages Achelous, Phaedrus, Eros, Cleitos, Cephalus, Orion, Poseidon, Pan and others are mentioned.
Truly a classic – from 1911. I first read it many years ago.
Mann (1875-1955) was a German writer who won the 1929 Noble Prize. He fled Germany for Switzerland and then the USA, not because he was Jewish, but because he opposed Hitler’s ideology and he knew his sexually-charged writings wouldn't help. He lived in the US (Princeton and then Los Angles) from 1939 to 1952 and became a US citizen. However he was hounded by the McCarthyites as a ‘communist’ and went back to live his final years in Switzerland. I read The Magician, Colm Toibin's fictionalized biography of Mann, and thought it was a great book.The Magician
Top photo from c.pxhere.com
Middle photo from anamericaninrome.com
Photo of the author from the Thomas Mann archives at nebis.ch
A well-established older German man visits Venice and falls in love with a 14-year-old boy on the beach. Here is a key passage very early in the novella (about 75 pages) that illustrates the author’s writing style:
“He [the 14-year old Polish boy] entered through the glass doors and passed diagonally across the room to his sisters at their table. He walked with extraordinary grace – the carriage of the body, the action of the knee, the way he set his foot down in its white shoe – it was all so light, it was at once dainty and proud, it wore an added charm in the childish shyness which made him twice turn his head as he crossed the room, made him give a quick glance and then drop his eyes. He took his seat, with a smile and a murmured word in his soft and blurry tongue; and Aschenbach, sitting so that he could see him in profile, was astonished anew, yes, startled, at the godlike beauty of the human being. The lad had on a light sailor suit of blue and white striped cotton, with a red silk breast-knot and a simple white standing collar round the neck – a not very elegant effect – yet above this collar the head was poised like a flower, an incomparable loveliness. It was the head of Eros, with the yellowish bloom of Parian marble, with fine serious brows, and dusky clustering ringlets standing out in soft plenteousness over temples and ears.”
The older man constantly monitors the boy in the hotel dining room and at the beach and eventually starts stalking the boy as he travels through Venice with his family.
But a plague is also stalking Venice. He considers leaving the city because of the 'miasma' but decides to stay because of the boy – a bad decision.
Mann uses many classical references: in just a few pages Achelous, Phaedrus, Eros, Cleitos, Cephalus, Orion, Poseidon, Pan and others are mentioned.
Truly a classic – from 1911. I first read it many years ago.
Mann (1875-1955) was a German writer who won the 1929 Noble Prize. He fled Germany for Switzerland and then the USA, not because he was Jewish, but because he opposed Hitler’s ideology and he knew his sexually-charged writings wouldn't help. He lived in the US (Princeton and then Los Angles) from 1939 to 1952 and became a US citizen. However he was hounded by the McCarthyites as a ‘communist’ and went back to live his final years in Switzerland. I read The Magician, Colm Toibin's fictionalized biography of Mann, and thought it was a great book.The Magician
Top photo from c.pxhere.com
Middle photo from anamericaninrome.com
Photo of the author from the Thomas Mann archives at nebis.ch
May 22, 2012
Brilliant prose, expertly crafted, and an audacious, masterful blending of mythology, allusion and symbolism. In many ways, a work of considerable genius.
Unfortunately, the story itself felt ho hum and left me cold and rather unenthused. Given this considerable dichotomy, between the me that was significantly impressed by Mann's obvious talent, and the more emotional, "enjoyment-centric" me left wanting more by a narrative that seemed dry and lifeless, I’ve resolved to revisit this work in a few years (it's only 150 pages) for a follow up. Hopefully, at that point, one of me will hold sway.
For now...both of me will straddle the fence of wishy-washy indecision. However, regardless of whether my future interactions with the story add to or subtract from my first impression, there’s no denying that there is much to admire, even be amazed by, in this slim, tightly compacted work loaded with full-bodied ideas. I just wished for a deeper connection to the characters and the tale.
PLOT SUMMARY:
It’s the early 20th century, and in a decaying Europe that is drifting towards war, an austere, deeply repressed author suffers from a severe bout of writer's block. To clear his mind and get his creative juices flowing again, Gustav von Aschenbach takes a holiday and winds up amidst the beautiful decadence of Venice.
This was Venice, the flattering and suspect beauty--this city, half fairy tale and half tourist trap, in whose insalubrious air the arts once rankly and voluptuously blossomed, where composers have been inspired to lulling tones of somniferous eroticism.While there, von Aschensbach becomes infatuated with the striking, classical beauty of a teenage boy named Tadzio. Slowly, the writer begins to lose control of his emotional austerity as his long-bottled passions avalanche over him. Despite never acting on his impulse of having any contact with the youth whatsoever, von Aschenbach's infatuation descends into a destructive obsession that leaves him unhinged and adrift from his rationality.
Meanwhile, a deadly cholera epidemic is stealthily spreading through the city, and von Aschenbach, though he can feel the onset of symptoms, is too enthralled to make his escape.
Eventually...a death occurs...in Venice.
THOUGHTS:
Despite being written by a German author about a Prussian author, and set in 20th century Italy, this story has Greek tragedy written all over it. Mann's story is steeped in allusions to mythology, and is strongly influenced by Plato's The Symposium and ]Phaedrus, carrying forward their central arguments regarding the man’s struggle between passion and wisdom.
Having not read either of these works, I'm sure there are some references that strolled right past me without me having a clue they were even in the room. Nevertheless, I don't think a familiarity with these texts is essential to enjoying this story, though it could certainly enhance it.
In keeping with the Greek sympathies central to Mann’s novella, the relationship between von Aschenbach and Tadzio (the boy) is clearly a reference to the platonic ideal of erotic love described by Plato and Socrates. Additionally, Mann includes a whole host of mythological allusions to highlight our protagonist's psychological and physical demise, beginning with von Aschenbach’s gondola ride into Venice that mirrors the journey of many a Greek hero into Hades.
At its heart, this is a cautionary tale regarding the danger of extremes, and the need to maintain a sense of balance in the conduct of one's life. Mann shows us someone who has lived a carefully controlled, passion free life in the pursuit of moral, intellectual art. When we first encounter von Aschenbach, he is an emotional corpse existing in the extreme state of pure reason and utter sensual denial. Mann shows us this not as an ideal, but as one end of the spectrum to be avoided.
Now, when confronted with the exotic, sensation-filled atmosphere of Venice, von Aschenbach’s suppressed desires bubble to the surface, and his carefully constructed, intellect-driven world crumbles in the face of the onslaught. <>"His head and his heart were drunk, and his steps followed the dictates of that dark god whose pleasure it is to trample man's reason and dignity underfoot." Swiftly, our protagonist finds himself at the other extreme, a slave to his passions, the object of which is encapsulated in the character of Tadzio.
Excessively rigid morality exchanged for unrestrained passion…reason abandoned and moderation impossible, von Aschenbach's world deteriorates under the weight of his unchecked desires. It is his falling from one extreme to another, and his inability to achieve a balance, that leads eventually to his self-destruction.
My biggest problem with the above is that understood it without feeling it. I would spot an allusion that Mann was incorporating and think how impressive it was…but it never translated into an emotional connection to the story. Thus, I was kept at a distance from the story, and this left me feeling less enamored with the work as a whole, than its prodigious technical achievements might otherwise merit.
Still, as I mention above, there is much to love about this work, and part of my tepid reaction to the story may be my unfamiliarity with some of the source texts that Mann draws upon for inspiration. I intend to visit Plato’s The Symposium and/or Phaedrus, and check back in with this work further down the road.
For now, an impressed 3.5 stars. Highly recommended.
March 31, 2024
Here is a text that frightened me and which I am happy to have been able to penetrate with delight and concentration because it is true that the beast is austere and does not offer itself easily. It also relentlessly demonstrated in this novel that confronting pure beauty, "the only idea that can contemplate," inevitably leads to the idea of death.
Before opening the book, I had the recent impression of "Death in Venice" on the retina and in the ear of a photomontage from Visconti's film against the backdrop of Mahler's fifth symphony. These images, centered on the aging artist Gustav von Aschenbach pursuing the painful beauty of the ephebe Tadzio on Venice's beach, are perfectly synchronized with the short story's synopsis and the heavy emotions the chiseled pen of Thomas Mann makes feel. Moreover, they helped me go deeper into the depths of this text, from the fetid dampness of Venice to the older man's switch from rigorous integrity to the madness of love to the splendid and sepulchral final scene.
This work is a moving reading and a mediation on death, not reading on a depressing day.
Before opening the book, I had the recent impression of "Death in Venice" on the retina and in the ear of a photomontage from Visconti's film against the backdrop of Mahler's fifth symphony. These images, centered on the aging artist Gustav von Aschenbach pursuing the painful beauty of the ephebe Tadzio on Venice's beach, are perfectly synchronized with the short story's synopsis and the heavy emotions the chiseled pen of Thomas Mann makes feel. Moreover, they helped me go deeper into the depths of this text, from the fetid dampness of Venice to the older man's switch from rigorous integrity to the madness of love to the splendid and sepulchral final scene.
This work is a moving reading and a mediation on death, not reading on a depressing day.
April 27, 2019
Odd novella about unrequited pederasty that, like so many novellas with their single themes and small casts, feels a bit overstretched. But there is reason this is still so widely read today (curious how, unlike LOLITA, the subject of this book isn't as important as the theme when it comes to criticism): the writing. Mann's marvelous turns of phrase carry the day and his ruminations on the nature of creativity stand in wonderful counterpoint to Marcel's more spiritual realization near the end of LOST TIME. Consider:
"Nothing gladdens a writer more than a thought that can be come pure feeling and a feeling that can become pure thought."
and
“Solitude favors the original, the daringly and otherworldly beautiful, the poem. But it also favors the wrongful, the extreme, the absurd, and the forbidden."
and
"Like any lover, he desired to please; suffered at the thought of failure.”
These lines spill out as the aged writer Aschenbach begins getting more extreme in his behavior, stalking young Tadzio, the boy he loves, through the diseased streets of Venice. Here, Mann achieves something extraordinary: he unlocks the close correspondence between creativity and obsession, between the propriety of making art and the tremendous improprieties that can be side-effect of leaving yourself open to the making of art. Tight in on Aschenbach as we are, morality barely enters into the novella. Instead, in an autobiographical turn by Mann, we see the that repression and beauty often work in counterpoint.
As the book accelerates toward its (extremely foreshadowed) ending, we get an especially good scene, as Aschenbach, who derides men who attempt to be younger than they are at the beginning of the book, dyes his hair and gets slathered in make-up in an attempt to please Tadzio. It's a gorgeous moment of pathos, the clown at midnight (soon after a night sequence with a clown), and it will stick with me.
Death In Venice is humorless, but you know that going in with Mann. This translation seemed good to me - I have the earlier one as well and when I compared them it wasn't particularly close. Nowhere near the heights of MAGIC MOUNTAIN, which is one of my favorites, but worth your time.
"Nothing gladdens a writer more than a thought that can be come pure feeling and a feeling that can become pure thought."
and
“Solitude favors the original, the daringly and otherworldly beautiful, the poem. But it also favors the wrongful, the extreme, the absurd, and the forbidden."
and
"Like any lover, he desired to please; suffered at the thought of failure.”
These lines spill out as the aged writer Aschenbach begins getting more extreme in his behavior, stalking young Tadzio, the boy he loves, through the diseased streets of Venice. Here, Mann achieves something extraordinary: he unlocks the close correspondence between creativity and obsession, between the propriety of making art and the tremendous improprieties that can be side-effect of leaving yourself open to the making of art. Tight in on Aschenbach as we are, morality barely enters into the novella. Instead, in an autobiographical turn by Mann, we see the that repression and beauty often work in counterpoint.
As the book accelerates toward its (extremely foreshadowed) ending, we get an especially good scene, as Aschenbach, who derides men who attempt to be younger than they are at the beginning of the book, dyes his hair and gets slathered in make-up in an attempt to please Tadzio. It's a gorgeous moment of pathos, the clown at midnight (soon after a night sequence with a clown), and it will stick with me.
Death In Venice is humorless, but you know that going in with Mann. This translation seemed good to me - I have the earlier one as well and when I compared them it wasn't particularly close. Nowhere near the heights of MAGIC MOUNTAIN, which is one of my favorites, but worth your time.
December 1, 2021
(Book 750 from 1001 books) - Der Tod in venedig = Death in Venice, Thomas Mann
Death in Venice is a novella written by German author >Thomas Mann, first published in 1912 as Der Tod in Venedig. The work presents a great writer suffering writer's block who visits Venice and is liberated, uplifted, and then increasingly obsessed, by the sight of a stunningly beautiful youth. Though he never speaks to the boy, much less touches him, the writer finds himself drawn deep into ruinous inward passion; meanwhile, Venice, and finally, the writer himself, succumb to a cholera plague.
The boy in the story (Tadzio) is based on a boy (Władzio or Tadzio, nicknames for the Polish name Władysław or Tadeusz respectively) Mann had seen during a visit to Venice in 1911.
The main character is Gustav von Aschenbach, a famous author in his early fifties who has recently been ennobled in honor of his artistic achievement (thus acquiring the aristocratic "von" in his name).
He is a man dedicated to his art, disciplined and ascetic to the point of severity, who was widowed at a young age. As the story opens, he is strolling outside a cemetery and sees a coarse-looking red-haired foreigner who stares back at him belligerently.
Aschenbach walks away, embarrassed but curiously stimulated. He has a vision of a primordial swamp-wilderness, fertile, exotic and full of lurking danger. Soon afterwards, he resolves to take a holiday. ...
مرگ در ونیز - توماس مان (نگاه) ادبیات؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: ماه نوامبر سال2002میلادی
عنوان: مرگ در ونیز؛ توماس مان؛ مترجم: حسن نکوروح؛ تهران، نگاه، سال1379، در159ص؛ شابک9646736238؛
عنوان: مرگ در ونیز؛ توماس مان؛ مترجم: محمود حدادی؛ تهران، افق، سال1393، در141ص؛ شابک9789643699468؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان آلمان - سده20م
شخصیت اصلی، نویسنده ای است، که توان نوشتن ندارد، او به «ونیز» میرود، و در آنجا عاشق پسر جوانی میشود؛ و با آنکه هرگزی این دو باهم گفتگویی نمیکنند، اما آن عشق، نویسنده را، به حال دیگری، از رهایی و اعتلای روحی میرساند؛ با همه گیری «وبا» در «ونیز»، نویسنده نیز بیمار میشود
نقل از مقدمه مترجم جناب «حسن نکوروح»: (مرگ «آشنباخ» در «ونیز»، آنگونه که در این اثر به نمایش گذاشته میشود، از عناصر مختلف و متنوعی ترکیب شده، که برای درک صحیح آن باید همه ی عناصر را به درستی شناخت، در اینجا از «رئالیسم» و «ناتورالیسم» گرفته تا «امپرسیونیسم» و «سمبولیسم» و ...؛ همه در دهه ی دوم سده بیستم میلادی، و پیش از جنگ جهانی اول -تاریخی که اهمیت ویژه ای برخوردار است- دست اندر کار پایان دادن به جریانی بوده اند، که آغاز آن به سالهای پایانی سده ی نوزدهم میلادی بازمیگردد)؛ پایان نقل
نقل از متن: (آنگاه او، این نظرباز ظریفترین نکته را به زبان آورد: اینکه عاشق خداگونهتر از معشوق است، چون خدا در اوست، و در دیگری نیست؛بزرگترین سعادت یک نویسنده در اندیشهای است که در مرز احساس، و احساسی که در مرز اندیشه باشد؛ یک چنین اندیشهای، اندیشهای با تپش احساس، و احساسی با دقت اندیشه، آن زمان از آن قهرمان تنهای ما بود؛ «آشنباخ» ناگاه میل نوشتن کرد)؛ پایان
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 29/09/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 09/09/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
Death in Venice is a novella written by German author >Thomas Mann, first published in 1912 as Der Tod in Venedig. The work presents a great writer suffering writer's block who visits Venice and is liberated, uplifted, and then increasingly obsessed, by the sight of a stunningly beautiful youth. Though he never speaks to the boy, much less touches him, the writer finds himself drawn deep into ruinous inward passion; meanwhile, Venice, and finally, the writer himself, succumb to a cholera plague.
The boy in the story (Tadzio) is based on a boy (Władzio or Tadzio, nicknames for the Polish name Władysław or Tadeusz respectively) Mann had seen during a visit to Venice in 1911.
The main character is Gustav von Aschenbach, a famous author in his early fifties who has recently been ennobled in honor of his artistic achievement (thus acquiring the aristocratic "von" in his name).
He is a man dedicated to his art, disciplined and ascetic to the point of severity, who was widowed at a young age. As the story opens, he is strolling outside a cemetery and sees a coarse-looking red-haired foreigner who stares back at him belligerently.
Aschenbach walks away, embarrassed but curiously stimulated. He has a vision of a primordial swamp-wilderness, fertile, exotic and full of lurking danger. Soon afterwards, he resolves to take a holiday. ...
مرگ در ونیز - توماس مان (نگاه) ادبیات؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: ماه نوامبر سال2002میلادی
عنوان: مرگ در ونیز؛ توماس مان؛ مترجم: حسن نکوروح؛ تهران، نگاه، سال1379، در159ص؛ شابک9646736238؛
عنوان: مرگ در ونیز؛ توماس مان؛ مترجم: محمود حدادی؛ تهران، افق، سال1393، در141ص؛ شابک9789643699468؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان آلمان - سده20م
شخصیت اصلی، نویسنده ای است، که توان نوشتن ندارد، او به «ونیز» میرود، و در آنجا عاشق پسر جوانی میشود؛ و با آنکه هرگزی این دو باهم گفتگویی نمیکنند، اما آن عشق، نویسنده را، به حال دیگری، از رهایی و اعتلای روحی میرساند؛ با همه گیری «وبا» در «ونیز»، نویسنده نیز بیمار میشود
نقل از مقدمه مترجم جناب «حسن نکوروح»: (مرگ «آشنباخ» در «ونیز»، آنگونه که در این اثر به نمایش گذاشته میشود، از عناصر مختلف و متنوعی ترکیب شده، که برای درک صحیح آن باید همه ی عناصر را به درستی شناخت، در اینجا از «رئالیسم» و «ناتورالیسم» گرفته تا «امپرسیونیسم» و «سمبولیسم» و ...؛ همه در دهه ی دوم سده بیستم میلادی، و پیش از جنگ جهانی اول -تاریخی که اهمیت ویژه ای برخوردار است- دست اندر کار پایان دادن به جریانی بوده اند، که آغاز آن به سالهای پایانی سده ی نوزدهم میلادی بازمیگردد)؛ پایان نقل
نقل از متن: (آنگاه او، این نظرباز ظریفترین نکته را به زبان آورد: اینکه عاشق خداگونهتر از معشوق است، چون خدا در اوست، و در دیگری نیست؛بزرگترین سعادت یک نویسنده در اندیشهای است که در مرز احساس، و احساسی که در مرز اندیشه باشد؛ یک چنین اندیشهای، اندیشهای با تپش احساس، و احساسی با دقت اندیشه، آن زمان از آن قهرمان تنهای ما بود؛ «آشنباخ» ناگاه میل نوشتن کرد)؛ پایان
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 29/09/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 09/09/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
March 4, 2024
La novela plantea uno de esos problemas irresolubles que devienen de lo problemático de nuestra naturaleza. Como no sería capaz de expresarlo mejor, traigo aquí las palabras que Vargas Llosa recogió en el prólogo a mi edición refiriéndose a los instintos: “aunque su presencia siempre entraña un riesgo para el individuo y una amenaza de disolución y violencia para la sociedad, su total exilio empobrece la vida, privándola de aquella exaltación y embriaguez —la fiesta y la aventura— que son también una necesidad del ser”. A la cabeza de esos instintos “peligrosos” están los que tienen que ver con la sexualidad, sobre todo cuando el objeto del deseo es moralmente inaceptable.
“Porque la Belleza, Fedro, tenlo muy presente, solo es a la vez visible y divina, y por ello es también el camino de lo sensible, es, mi pequeño Fedro, el camino hacia el espíritu. Pero, ¿crees acaso, querido mío, que algún día pueda obtener la sabiduría y verdadera dignidad humana aquel que se dirija hacia lo espiritual a través de los sentidos?¿O crees más bien (te dejo la libertad de decidirlo) que es éste un camino peligroso y agradable al mismo tiempo, una auténtica vía de pecado y perdición que necesariamente lleva al descarrío?"A estos problemas se tiene que enfrentar Gustav Aschenbach, un famoso hombre de letras, dotado de talento y, no menos importante, de una férrea voluntad, una severa disciplina y una gran ambición. Sus problemas de salud lo aislaron muy pronto del mundo impidiéndole disfrutar del “despreocupado abandono de la juventud”, quizá por ello, su palabra predilecta fue desde siempre «resistir», un lema que marcó su carácter y su obra. Los héroes de sus libros encarnaban la figura de San Sebastián: mantenerse firme pese “a la aflicción y a los tormentos, pese a la miseria, al abandono y la debilidad física, pese al vicio, a la pasión y a mil impedimentos más”. El heroísmo de sus personajes era el de la debilidad, el heroísmo de los que lograban imponerse a sus vicios y penalidades.
“Para que una obra espiritual relevante pueda tener sin demora una incidencia amplia y profunda, ha de existir una secreta afinidad, cierta armonía incluso, entre el destino personal del autor y el destino universal de su generación”En su madurez, la obra de Aschenbach se había decantado “hacia una especie de paradigmática solidez, de trasfondo tradicional bien pulimentado, conservador, formal y hasta formalista”. El autor había aceptado un título nobiliario y sus obras se leían en los colegios, pero él se sentía insatisfecho con su trabajo actual y pensó que un corto viaje le infundiría las fuerzas que necesitaba para reavivar su obra.
“Con asombro observó Aschenbach que el muchacho era bellísimo”Qué mejor decorado que la bella y decadente Venecia para situar el retrato de una decadente sociedad y asistir a la decadencia de un hombre enfrentado a su última lucha: unos deseos y una pasión de los que siempre había abominado.
Una pasión que, por un lado, se transmitió rápidamente a su apagada vida y a su faceta creativa…
“Nunca había sentido con mayor dulzura el placer de la palabra ni había sido tan consciente de que Eros moraba en ella, como durante esas horas peligrosamente exquisitas en las que, sentado a su tosca mesa bajo el toldo de lona, en presencia de su ídolo y con la música de su voz en el oído, dio forma a un breve ensayo inspirándose en la belleza de Tadzio, una página y media de prosa selecta cuya transparencia, nobleza y tenso y vibrante lirismo habrían de suscitar, poco después, la admiración de mucha gente…”… pero de los que se sentía dominado,…
“Así, víctima de su extravío, no sabía ni quería otra cosa que perseguir sin tregua al objeto de su pasión, soñar con él en su ausencia y, a la manera de los amantes, dirigir palabras tiernas a una simple sombra.… le inclinaban a extravagancias y preocupaciones de las que en otro tiempo se habría avergonzado, …
“A la vista de la juvenil tersura que lo había embelesado, su cuerpo senescente le daba asco; la visión de sus cabellos grises y los perfilados rasgos de su rostro lo sumía en la vergüenza y la desesperanza”… abocándolo a una amarga situación de la que ya no había vuelta atrás.
“… quien está fuera de sí nada aborrece tanto como volver a sí mismo… la idea de volver a casa, al ámbito de la prudencia y el discernimiento, de la fatiga y el esfuerzo que aspira a la maestría, le repugnaba a un grado tal que el rictus de malestar físico contrajo su rostro”Una maravilla de lectura, bella, profunda, brillante.
P.S. He releído la novela en el ejemplar que conservo de Círculo de Lectores en su Biblioteca de Plata. Una colección, como muchas otras de Círculo, fabulosa en su edición, con fotografías, la semblanza biográfica del autor y unos prólogos maravillosos de Vargas Llosa que después fueron reunidos y publicados en su libro «La verdad de las mentiras». Compré bastantes ejemplares en su día, y alguno más después en las plataformas de segunda mano en la que se pueden encontrar por precios irrisorios, y me gustaría dedicarle aquí este pequeño homenaje.
April 15, 2024
I muddled through this book early on in life - back in 1976, when I was trying to backpedal furiously to stave off another collision with the barrelling 18-Wheeler of the establishment mindset.
So go figure who won...
Alas, you’re right.
My dear Mom always used to say you can’t fight City Hall - but I, in my twenties, was like the bloodied Chinook Salmon leaping upwards over the jagged rocks of a mountain brook to its spawning ground.
I knew whereof I believed.
And There Was No Way I would now recant!
For you MUST fight City Hall if City Hall is wrong.
I know, I know, why bother? Cool it, right?
Sorry. Can’t. And neither could Mann.
For his goal, like so many of his Old Guard entre-deux-guerres writers, was to keep SUBLIMATING his inner turmoil until it left him in PEACE.
Ha ha, you say, and good luck with that.
In answer I grin, a thoughtful aged man now - well, I rejoinder, IT WORKS.
If you can’t otherwise reach your Promised Land, the placid spawning pool which is your own Heart’s Delight - for that grim Medusa’s head that now Blocks your Way must WITHER - you just DO IT.
We have our Marching Orders.
And they are all we need.
So go figure who won...
Alas, you’re right.
My dear Mom always used to say you can’t fight City Hall - but I, in my twenties, was like the bloodied Chinook Salmon leaping upwards over the jagged rocks of a mountain brook to its spawning ground.
I knew whereof I believed.
And There Was No Way I would now recant!
For you MUST fight City Hall if City Hall is wrong.
I know, I know, why bother? Cool it, right?
Sorry. Can’t. And neither could Mann.
For his goal, like so many of his Old Guard entre-deux-guerres writers, was to keep SUBLIMATING his inner turmoil until it left him in PEACE.
Ha ha, you say, and good luck with that.
In answer I grin, a thoughtful aged man now - well, I rejoinder, IT WORKS.
If you can’t otherwise reach your Promised Land, the placid spawning pool which is your own Heart’s Delight - for that grim Medusa’s head that now Blocks your Way must WITHER - you just DO IT.
We have our Marching Orders.
And they are all we need.
August 1, 2023
One of the most boring books I've read this year. I had trouble following the dense overwritten prose and mostly failed. I do not doubt the novella is a classic masterpiece but it was too much of a chore to care. There is a plot hidden somewhere, something about a despicable pedophilic lust for a a 14 year old boy, but I was already too dozed to even get disgusted.
January 26, 2022
“Loneliness fosters that which is original, daringly and bewilderingly beautiful, poetic. But loneliness also fosters that which is perverse, incongruous, absurd, forbidden.”
Thomas Mann's Death in Venice reminds me of both Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time and Vladmir Nabokov's Lolita both because of themes and the wonderful use of language. In the story, aging writer Gustav von Aschenbach travels to Venice to recharge his creativity. Instead, in the midst of an epidemic that takes control of the city, he becomes obsessed with a Polish boy named Tadzio.
Melancholy permeates the life and journey of Aschenbach. Death in Venice is a gripping story about the limits of creativity, obsession, language and a life nearing its conclusion. 4.25 stars
Thomas Mann's Death in Venice reminds me of both Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time and Vladmir Nabokov's Lolita both because of themes and the wonderful use of language. In the story, aging writer Gustav von Aschenbach travels to Venice to recharge his creativity. Instead, in the midst of an epidemic that takes control of the city, he becomes obsessed with a Polish boy named Tadzio.
Melancholy permeates the life and journey of Aschenbach. Death in Venice is a gripping story about the limits of creativity, obsession, language and a life nearing its conclusion. 4.25 stars
July 6, 2015
THE KRITIOS BOY
This is Beauty.
Male human Beauty but it transcends the particular.
Contemplating Beauty brings Happiness.
We seek this Happiness, this complete Harmony with one’s Life.
Perfect Harmony is Divine.
Beauty is the Path.
How to find the Path, how to reach the final goal?
And in seeking, we Desire.
Is Art the Artifice that creates the Divine?
Goodness, Virtue, Health, Order, Perfection, Restraint, Discipline. All are required.
Talent has to be wedded to Dignity. Only then is it Moral.
But also Freedom is needed. Freedom from the thinking mind. Freedom in open and infinite spaces.
Simplicity and the Sea.
But there is Time, and Chronos easily brings decay. Or Destiny strikes.
For Salvation the only thing we have to defend us is Art.
And as the sun and its light drag us to the Senses they can also intoxicate us.
And yet, Art — Writing -- cannot reproduce sensuous Beauty, but they will praise it.
How to avoid the lurking Danger?
They are too close to Emotions. Mirrors of Love.
This is Eros, the Divine.
The Senses are the Forbidden Fruit.
Overripe strawberries, already dragging us, with them, into irreversible decay.
Falling.
The Abyss.
February 29, 2020
Gustave Aschenbach or von Aschenbach, as the German writer has now been honored, at home, all is his fame , fortune , prestige...yet he is alone, his wife has died their only child a daughter, married, living far away, the man is feeling his 50 plus years, restless , unsure...unhappy, he must leave Munich and get...a warmer, climate south would do, Italy, and the glorious city of Venice, above the sea, blue lagoons, sandy beaches, in a beautiful hotel, and the bright, shining Sun spraying its healing rays, heating his cold, old heart, the image can not be denied. Still in the early 20th Century, things aren't perfect, the weather is bad , the winds make him sick, the dirty canals, odious smells, and decaying buildings, are unsettling, not content, he decides to return to the nearby mainland...and find a better place. His desires aren't successful, on the way, losing his precious luggage, he must go back, it will be uncomfortable, but he has no choice...which strangely makes him glad...just before a handsome, Polish boy, of 14, Tadzio, from an aristocratic family, vacationing also there, he sees at the hotel. The beauty of this child, infatuates the tired , discouraged man, the despondency is lifted , a new life surfaces. Every day Gustave, visits the beach, lies down on his flimsy chair, soaks up the Sun and watches the boy cavorting with other children, swimming in the shallow waters, skipping, dancing, playing, the writer likes the view, but is careful not to be observed, he has two pretty sisters, mother and a governess to deal with. And the weeks slowly pass by, the contented tourist is happy just to be alive, no worries, only happiness permeates , sitting on the hot sand, the re-
energized author , begins to follow the Polish family, around Venice, not being conspicuous, sneaking , hiding, walking in back alleys, never having the bravery to talk to Tadzio...A quiet rumors is whispered , foreign newspapers say that a plague has arrived in the ocean city, malignant cholera, especially in the German periodicals, people from Germany and Austria , suddenly disappear from the premises, not believing the local authorities , denials...the strong, medicinal scent, in Venice, is troubling, Aschenbach, needs confirmation, receiving it from the stoic British, nevertheless he remains , too enchanted to leave. ...An unusual novella from the great Thomas Mann, he got the idea, talking with his wife, in this very city, in 1911, (the story was published, a year after) while vacationing in The Grand Hotel des Bains, on the Venetian island of Lido, in the fabled, Adriatic Sea..
energized author , begins to follow the Polish family, around Venice, not being conspicuous, sneaking , hiding, walking in back alleys, never having the bravery to talk to Tadzio...A quiet rumors is whispered , foreign newspapers say that a plague has arrived in the ocean city, malignant cholera, especially in the German periodicals, people from Germany and Austria , suddenly disappear from the premises, not believing the local authorities , denials...the strong, medicinal scent, in Venice, is troubling, Aschenbach, needs confirmation, receiving it from the stoic British, nevertheless he remains , too enchanted to leave. ...An unusual novella from the great Thomas Mann, he got the idea, talking with his wife, in this very city, in 1911, (the story was published, a year after) while vacationing in The Grand Hotel des Bains, on the Venetian island of Lido, in the fabled, Adriatic Sea..
November 4, 2022
In each heart there are unrequited desires; desires that hibernate for years only to awaken after the last days of summer have passed into the time when "To love that well which thou must leave ere long" is the only option. While on vacation aging writer Gustav von Aschenbach beholds the beauty of Tadzio, a teenage boy vacationing with his family. After this one look he is enthralled - and cursed - to follow that path which will lead to his destruction.
January 1, 2016
As long as we breathe, we live. We do not possess the power to embrace death at will. So, we live. And for living, we cling to a purpose. The purpose may be clear or clouded, animate or inanimate, expressed or hidden, stable or fickle but we have it nonetheless. Even the person accused of leading a purposeless life is surviving on the shredded purpose of vagrancy.
So it doesn’t come as a surprise that even Gustav Aschenbach, notwithstanding the fame and dignity safely held in his bag of accolades, gropes for purpose in his new found state of ripe mind. Nothing is a bigger curse for a writer than to have hit a plateau from where all the previous works appear a distant dream and the present air leaves nothing for the fertile imagination to latch on. In search of this elusive purpose, after declaring many destinations unfit for ideation, he halts at Venice at a quaint hotel and opens the window of his room to the sea, inviting both its calmness and ferocity to wash his rusted mind panes with inspiring waves.
And the sea obliges, in the form of the ethereal Tadzio, who happens to be a guest of the same hotel as Gustav. The stunning beauty of this young Polish boy of golden skin, flowing locks, delicately-crafted ribs and carefree demeanour, first catches Gustav unawares and then, slowly like a persisting rain, fogs his mind panes with sensual dew. His senses, in a natural gesture, follow Tadzio’s movements like a sunflower follows the sun’s trail. From the day he sets his eyes on Tadzio, he gets transported to a new world where he increasingly finds just the two of them, talking about art and beauty, exchanging life wisdoms and sinking in the loving companionship of each other.
But does this throbbing one-sided passion render a purpose to the debilitating parchment of his life or relegate it further to insurmountable lows? Hold the hand of Mann to find out. And yes, he has a lot to say in this compact work.
He softly pits intellectual beauty against corporeal beauty and questions whether attaining the fulsome body of the former, can, in any way, deride the necessity of the latter’s blossoming. He also nudges us to consider the propriety of actions taken under the influence of relationships which, in the safety net of sanguinity, can deluge the delicate fabric of morality. He also presses us to weigh the artistic liberties in the light of societal approvals and take a stand.
For the striking questions and delicately coherent wordplay, I was about to give this work a rating of four. But Mann snatched the solitary star from my hand by playing this masterstroke: A dream where Gustav has donned the garb of Socrates and Tadzio, of Phaedo and the former is giving his life lessons to the young warrior of tomorrow.
’Because beauty, Phaedo, is the only thing that is divine and visible at the same time, and so it is the way of the artist to the soul. But do you believe, my dear Phaedo, that the one who reaches the intellectual through the senses can ever achieve wisdom and human dignity? Or do you believe (and I am leaving this to you) that it is a lovely but dangerous road that leads nowhere? Because you have to realize that we artists cannot take the path of beauty without Eros joining us and becoming our leader; we may be heroes in our own way, but we are still like women, because passion is what elevates us, and our desire is love—that is our lust and our disgrace. Do you see that poets can be neither sage nor dignified? We do not like final knowledge, because knowledge, Phaedo, has no dignity or severity: it knows, understands, forgives, without attitude; it is sympathetic to the abyss, it is the abyss.’
An artist is able when he can turn thought to emotion and emotion to thought with equal finesse. But he is legendary when he can turn a non-artist, artist. And I know Gustav, in the end, did both jobs well.
So it doesn’t come as a surprise that even Gustav Aschenbach, notwithstanding the fame and dignity safely held in his bag of accolades, gropes for purpose in his new found state of ripe mind. Nothing is a bigger curse for a writer than to have hit a plateau from where all the previous works appear a distant dream and the present air leaves nothing for the fertile imagination to latch on. In search of this elusive purpose, after declaring many destinations unfit for ideation, he halts at Venice at a quaint hotel and opens the window of his room to the sea, inviting both its calmness and ferocity to wash his rusted mind panes with inspiring waves.
And the sea obliges, in the form of the ethereal Tadzio, who happens to be a guest of the same hotel as Gustav. The stunning beauty of this young Polish boy of golden skin, flowing locks, delicately-crafted ribs and carefree demeanour, first catches Gustav unawares and then, slowly like a persisting rain, fogs his mind panes with sensual dew. His senses, in a natural gesture, follow Tadzio’s movements like a sunflower follows the sun’s trail. From the day he sets his eyes on Tadzio, he gets transported to a new world where he increasingly finds just the two of them, talking about art and beauty, exchanging life wisdoms and sinking in the loving companionship of each other.
But does this throbbing one-sided passion render a purpose to the debilitating parchment of his life or relegate it further to insurmountable lows? Hold the hand of Mann to find out. And yes, he has a lot to say in this compact work.
He softly pits intellectual beauty against corporeal beauty and questions whether attaining the fulsome body of the former, can, in any way, deride the necessity of the latter’s blossoming. He also nudges us to consider the propriety of actions taken under the influence of relationships which, in the safety net of sanguinity, can deluge the delicate fabric of morality. He also presses us to weigh the artistic liberties in the light of societal approvals and take a stand.
For the striking questions and delicately coherent wordplay, I was about to give this work a rating of four. But Mann snatched the solitary star from my hand by playing this masterstroke: A dream where Gustav has donned the garb of Socrates and Tadzio, of Phaedo and the former is giving his life lessons to the young warrior of tomorrow.
’Because beauty, Phaedo, is the only thing that is divine and visible at the same time, and so it is the way of the artist to the soul. But do you believe, my dear Phaedo, that the one who reaches the intellectual through the senses can ever achieve wisdom and human dignity? Or do you believe (and I am leaving this to you) that it is a lovely but dangerous road that leads nowhere? Because you have to realize that we artists cannot take the path of beauty without Eros joining us and becoming our leader; we may be heroes in our own way, but we are still like women, because passion is what elevates us, and our desire is love—that is our lust and our disgrace. Do you see that poets can be neither sage nor dignified? We do not like final knowledge, because knowledge, Phaedo, has no dignity or severity: it knows, understands, forgives, without attitude; it is sympathetic to the abyss, it is the abyss.’
An artist is able when he can turn thought to emotion and emotion to thought with equal finesse. But he is legendary when he can turn a non-artist, artist. And I know Gustav, in the end, did both jobs well.
May 12, 2018
“Solitude produces originality, bold & astonishing beauty, poetry. But solitude also produces perverseness, the disproportionate, the absurd, and the forbidden.”
― Thomas Mann, Death in Venice
Portrait of the artist as an old man.
I've been intimidated by Mann. He's a mountain. I own a bunch of his works, in various translations, but keep finding reasons to walk another road, skip ahead, fall behind. For me he has sat waiting like a distant leviathan or like death. So, finding myself in a position where I really felt I could delay no longer, I started with his shorter work - Death in Venice.
First, the introduction by Michael Cunningham is a fantastic introduction of the difficulties associated with translation. All fiction is a translation. All works differ, since they all are impacted by writer and reader. Both imperfect, both carrying their own history. Even the same work, read by the same reader at different times (think King Lear) will be interpreted anew, feel different to the reader at different stages and ages. So, it is with translations. Different translators are going to experience Mann's Death in Venice in different ways. Gustav von Aschenbach will appear the fool to some or an artist gripped by obscession and passion by others. There is no exactly right answer.
This book was probably a 4-star book for me, but I added the star because I really did like the Cunningham intro (so extra-credit, why not?). So, how was this translation? I don't know. I don't read German and have only read ONE translation, but I loved Heim's take. I love the idea of Aschenbach's obscession overtaking him and ultimately (perhaps?) destroying him. We all would be so lucky if our passions destroyed us, perhaps.
So, perhaps, I am ready for Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family.
― Thomas Mann, Death in Venice
Portrait of the artist as an old man.
I've been intimidated by Mann. He's a mountain. I own a bunch of his works, in various translations, but keep finding reasons to walk another road, skip ahead, fall behind. For me he has sat waiting like a distant leviathan or like death. So, finding myself in a position where I really felt I could delay no longer, I started with his shorter work - Death in Venice.
First, the introduction by Michael Cunningham is a fantastic introduction of the difficulties associated with translation. All fiction is a translation. All works differ, since they all are impacted by writer and reader. Both imperfect, both carrying their own history. Even the same work, read by the same reader at different times (think King Lear) will be interpreted anew, feel different to the reader at different stages and ages. So, it is with translations. Different translators are going to experience Mann's Death in Venice in different ways. Gustav von Aschenbach will appear the fool to some or an artist gripped by obscession and passion by others. There is no exactly right answer.
This book was probably a 4-star book for me, but I added the star because I really did like the Cunningham intro (so extra-credit, why not?). So, how was this translation? I don't know. I don't read German and have only read ONE translation, but I loved Heim's take. I love the idea of Aschenbach's obscession overtaking him and ultimately (perhaps?) destroying him. We all would be so lucky if our passions destroyed us, perhaps.
So, perhaps, I am ready for Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family.
June 8, 2019
Someone recently asked me which was the most melancholy book I had ever read.
Of course there are many of them, and it is hard to make a choice, but the first one that instantly came to mind was Thomas Mann's sad story of suppressed emotion and life wasted to keep the appearances. When comparing Mann to Brecht, one sees a line between the belief in a possible cultural achievement and the cynical loss of it, but maybe the line is not only detectable between generations of German authors. Maybe that line goes straight through the work of the last German novelist of the dying 19th century? Thomas Mann may be building sentences of old-fashioned eloquence, but his characters wither and die of suffocation in a world that can't carry the ideas of the European 19th century anymore without also acknowledging the deep evil and the inherent flaws that grow out of that society: the restrictions on personal, individual happiness that the intolerance of a predominantly Christian society puts on anyone who desires outside a church-approved wedlock, the exclusion of anyone from power and fame who doesn't play the game of the white man's burden with dignity and conviction.
Thomas Mann lived and wrote on the thin line between belief in European culture and his lifelong struggle with his own role and position within that culture. He lived long enough to suffer from the complete breakdown of his native country. Death in Venice, telling the story of "forbidden" desire and of the quite literal breaking of hearts to abide by the standards of thought of the collective, could be seen as the dying of the spirit of excellence facing a reality that doesn't fit the idea. And it is dying and dying. Forever dying like the overcrowded, dirty, real Venice choking on its own popularity as a symbol of European grandeur.
We are still stifling our dreams to conform with the bullying crowd of petty mediocrity. We are still longing for beauty without being able to let go of ideas that put us in the position of being ashamed of what we are, rather than questioning the shame itself as a tool of Christian control. We are still loving Thomas Mann for the death he describes in all of his works - from Buddenbrooks to Doktor Faustus.
Death in Venice is bittersweet, and as good as Mann can get!
Of course there are many of them, and it is hard to make a choice, but the first one that instantly came to mind was Thomas Mann's sad story of suppressed emotion and life wasted to keep the appearances. When comparing Mann to Brecht, one sees a line between the belief in a possible cultural achievement and the cynical loss of it, but maybe the line is not only detectable between generations of German authors. Maybe that line goes straight through the work of the last German novelist of the dying 19th century? Thomas Mann may be building sentences of old-fashioned eloquence, but his characters wither and die of suffocation in a world that can't carry the ideas of the European 19th century anymore without also acknowledging the deep evil and the inherent flaws that grow out of that society: the restrictions on personal, individual happiness that the intolerance of a predominantly Christian society puts on anyone who desires outside a church-approved wedlock, the exclusion of anyone from power and fame who doesn't play the game of the white man's burden with dignity and conviction.
Thomas Mann lived and wrote on the thin line between belief in European culture and his lifelong struggle with his own role and position within that culture. He lived long enough to suffer from the complete breakdown of his native country. Death in Venice, telling the story of "forbidden" desire and of the quite literal breaking of hearts to abide by the standards of thought of the collective, could be seen as the dying of the spirit of excellence facing a reality that doesn't fit the idea. And it is dying and dying. Forever dying like the overcrowded, dirty, real Venice choking on its own popularity as a symbol of European grandeur.
We are still stifling our dreams to conform with the bullying crowd of petty mediocrity. We are still longing for beauty without being able to let go of ideas that put us in the position of being ashamed of what we are, rather than questioning the shame itself as a tool of Christian control. We are still loving Thomas Mann for the death he describes in all of his works - from Buddenbrooks to Doktor Faustus.
Death in Venice is bittersweet, and as good as Mann can get!
September 8, 2016
Mesmerizing. Perfection.
How I'm I supposed to go back to normal life after having experienced glimpses of literary heaven? Thomas Mann, where have you been all my life?
I'm confused, perplexed. What are those feelings? Heartbreak or hangover?
I'm sorry y'all, but I'm unable to utter a coherent sentence here so I'm going back to read Death in Venice again. And later I'm going to build a church and put this book in the center and worship it every day. See ya in seven years. ( is turning your own house into place of worship tax deductible?)
How I'm I supposed to go back to normal life after having experienced glimpses of literary heaven? Thomas Mann, where have you been all my life?
I'm confused, perplexed. What are those feelings? Heartbreak or hangover?
I'm sorry y'all, but I'm unable to utter a coherent sentence here so I'm going back to read Death in Venice again. And later I'm going to build a church and put this book in the center and worship it every day. See ya in seven years. ( is turning your own house into place of worship tax deductible?)
November 17, 2023
شین:اینایی که ازشون حرف میزنی دیگه مُردن...مگه ما چه دینی به مُرده ها داریم؟
لنا:اونا ازم خواستن که فراموششون نکنم...
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«مرگ در ونیز» رو در حالی خوندم که خودم رو بیشتر از هر انسانی که تابحال روی زمین زندگی کرده بیمار و غمگین می دونستم و می دونم. پس در آستانه سالگرد فروپاشی همه زندگیم، به دنبال تسلایی احتمالی و بعید، به دنیای کتاب ها پناهنده شدم و درحالی که عنوان "مرگ" روی جلد هر کتابی، مثل سیاهچاله که نور رو میبلعه منو به طرف خودش می کشید، این اجازه رو به مرگ در ونیز دادم تا شانس خودشو در آروم کردن یا نابود کردنم امتحان کنه. اما نه این شد و نه اون!
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حرف زدن درباره اولین عشق و تکرار ناپذیری اون شبیه یک شوخی مبتذله وقتی که توی زندگی مون، با هر سن و سالی، بارها و بارها عاشق و فارغ میشیم و هربار مشتاقانه درهای قلبمون رو به روی آدم جدید باز می کنیم تا دوباره تجربه ش کنیم. اما بنظر من، اون آدمی خوشبخته که عشق آخرش رو پیدا کنه و بعدش با اون حس توی قلبش بمیره.
این مقدمه شاید کلیشه ای یا بیربط حتی به نظر برسه ولی اسپویل کل کتابه. بنابراين از همه اونایی که از اسپویل شدن متنفرن معذرت نمیخوام چون این کار مورد علاقه منه.
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🔺توماس مان که بود و چه کرد؟ یا تاثیر یک خانواده فرهیخته در زندگی فرزندان را با ذکر مثال نشان دهید.
توماس مان یکی از مهمترین چهره های ادبیات اوایل قرن بیستم در جهان و اولین نویسنده برنده جایزه نوبل ادبیات آلمانی است. او بعنوان دومین فرزند سناتور هنریش مان در سال 1875 در شهر لوبک در آلمان تازه متحد شده متولد شد، اما در هجده سالگی به مونیخ نقل مکان کرد. اولین رمان او، «بودنبروک ها»، در سال 1901 منتشر شد و نام وی را بر سر زبان ها انداخت. پس از این موفقیت او داستان کوتاه «تونیو کروگر» و رمان کوتاه «مرگ در ونیز» را نوشت و محبوبیت بیشتری کسب کرد.
توماس در طول زندگی کاری اش آثار بزرگ دیگری مثل «کوه جادو»، «یوسف و برادرانش» و «دکتر فاستوس» را نیز نوشت که همگی از درخشان ترین نمونه های ادبیات آلمان به شمار میروند اما در سال 1929 جایزه نوبل را برای خلق مشهورترین کتابش «بودنبروک ها» به دست آورد. او یکی از اعضای خانواده ای از نویسندگان و هنردوستانی بود که به وقایع جامعه آلمان و اروپا حساسیت نشان می دادند ( مادر او از علاقمندان موسیقی و برادرش از نویسندگان برجسته بودند). او که مخالف هیتلر بود، از آلمان گریخت و در چندین کشور از جمله ایالات متحده زندگی کرد تا نهایتا در سال 1955 د�� زوریخ از دنیا رفت.
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🔺حقایقی درباره سبک هنری توماس مان یا چطور شروع شد و چطور ادامه یافت؟
توماس مان زندگی هنری خود را در پایان قرن نوزدهم_ اوایل قرن بیستم و در فضای ناتورالیستی آن دوران آغاز کرد. او در ابتدا تحت تاثیر نویسندگان رئالیستی بود و به خوبی به این سبک تسلط داشت؛ به طوری که در رمان «بودنبروک ها»، توصیفات رئالیستی_ ناتورالیستی را به گونه ای به کار گرفت که تا آن زمان در ادبیات آلمان دیده نشده بود.
او بعد تر تبدیل به یکی از خوانندگان مشتاق نیچه شد و در داستانهایش از این فیلسوف و همچنین از آرتور شوپنهاور تاثیر بسیار گرفته از آرای آن دو بعنوان الگویی برای بیان ایدههای ظریف فلسفی شخصیتهای داستانی اش استفاده کرد. این تاثیر پذیری باعث شد که سبک ناتورالیستی توماس تعدیل یافته، رئالیست او پخته تر شده و به نئورمانتیک و سمبولیسم نزدیک شود. نتیجه این تغییر را می توان در شاهکار دیگر او «مرگ در ونیز» مشاهده کرد. او در این رمان ظاهراً از نثر علمی استفاده می کند اما حقیقتی که در پشت این نثر پنهان است، نماد و نمادپردازی خیره کننده توماس مان در خلق شخصیت ها و وقایع است. او این بار رمانی درباره مرگ نوشت که نمونه شگفت انگیزی از هنر نو و نئورمانتیک بود و تمام ویژگی های این سبک را به ظهور رساند.
همچنین در زمان انتشار این رمان به سال 1911، نظریات روانکاوانه زیگموند فروید در جهان شهرت یافته بود و توماس مان نیز بعنوان یکی از خوانندگان و علاقمندان فروید، از او تاثیر پذیرفت؛ به این شکل که در مرگ در ونیز از مضامینی چون سفر به ناخودآگاه، اروس و تاتانوس ، سرکوب امیال و ابژه برانگیزاننده میل که در روانکاوی فروید مطرح می شوند استفاده کرد.
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🔺چرا باید «مرگ در ونیز» را بخوانیم؟ یا اهمیت این رمان در چیست؟ یا چه چیزی این کتاب را خاص می کند؟ و سوالاتی از این دست:
کتابهای شگفتانگیز زیادی را میتوان نام برد که داستان آن ها در شهر ونیز می گذرد، اما هیچ فهرستی بدون «مرگ در ونیز» کامل نمیشود. این رمان کوتاه کلاسیک، داستان «گوستاو فون اشنباخ» نویسنده مشهوری را روایت میکند که در جستجوی الهام برای نوشتن به ونیز سفر می کند. این رمان سرشار از عناصر روانشناختی، تاریخی، انسان شناسی و فرهنگی؛ و نمونه عالی نمادپردازی در هنر مدرن است. اما چیزی که من بیشتر از همه در مورد این کتاب دوست دارم این است که چهره جادویی شهر ونیز را به تصویر کشیده و به آن شخصیت داده است.
به «مرگ در ونیز» می توان به شکل های مختلفی نگاه کرد. این رمان برای برخی ممکن است یک تراژدی عاشق��نه باشد در حالی که برخی دیگر ممکن است تفسیر یک داستان از رهایی از آن داشته باشند. برای من اما این داستان چیزی از هر دو داشت. این رمان یک تراژدی درباره مردی است که به ونیز میرود، اسیر آرزویی می شود که خوب می داند دست نیافتنی است و عاقبت همین اسارت است که منجر به مرگ او می شود. اما این داستان رهایی نیز به این صورت است که مرد مذکور از مسیری که از بدو تولد برای او تعیین شده بود خود را رها میکند و با آزادی کامل قدم در راهی جدید می گذارد که از او انتظار نمی رفت.
این رمان دارای روایت بسیار پیچیده و زبان دشواری است که نشان دهنده توانایی بالای مان در خلق لایه های معنا پردازانه و نمادگرایی است. «مرگ در ونیز» آینه مبارزه ابدی بین احساسات طبیعی و محدودیتهای اخلاقی و عقلی یک انسان منطقی است. توماس مان در این کتاب خواننده را به چالش کشیده و به شک می اندازد تا از خود بپرسد: آیا بهتر است با جان و دل عشق ورزیده و بمیریم یا اصلاً این احساس را تجربه نکنیم؟
از دیگر ویژگی های مهم رمان «مرگ در ونیز» نقش برجسته عناصر روانشناختی در آن است؛ این رمان استعاره ایست از پیچیدگی های روان انسان که آن را عمیق تر و پیچیده تر می کند. از همان ابتدای رمان، ما شاهد این هستیم که رانه های لیبیدویی کاراکتر اصلی به طور کامل سرکوب می شود، اما همانطور که فروید می گوید، سرکوب فقط این رانه ها را به تعویق انداخته و به ناخودآگاه عقب می راند تا در نهایت با یک تلنگر دوباره خودآگاه شده و به صورت دیگر و در زمان مناسب ظاهر شوند.
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🔺«مرگ در ونیز» چگونه متولد شد؟ یا پشت پرده های ناگفته یک رمان مشهور:
«مرگ در ونیز»، مانند اولین رمان مهم توماس مان «بودنبروک ها»، بیشتر از رویدادهای واقعی زندگی وی الهام گرفته است و اغلب آن را نوعی اثر اتوبیوگرافی تلقی می کنند. به این شکل که او در جریان شیوع وبا در سال 1905 در جزیره ای در نزدیکی ونیز زندگی می کرد که همین زمینه ساز داستان کتابش شد. سپس، در سفری به ونیز در سال 1911، او آگهی ترحیم آهنگساز معروف اتریشی «گوستاو مالر» را دید که همین منجر به خلق کاراکتر اصلی داستانی او، «گوستاو فون اشنباخ» شد. نام قهرمان داستان، «گوستاو آشنباخ»، ترکیبی از نام دو هنرمند از زمان وی است. «گوستاو مالر» آهنگساز که گفتیم در هجدهم ماه مه سال 1911 در حالی که مان در تعطیلات خود در ونیز بود درگذشت. همچنین نام «آشنباخ» از «آندریاس آشنباخ»، نقاش مبتکر آن زمان اقتباس شده که روند محبوب آن دوران یعنی نقاشی مناظر رمانتیک را کنار گذاشت.
از سوی دیگر بسیاری از عناصر این رمان، از جمله آب و هوای بد، وبا، تاچیوی جوان و زیبا، گوندولا، خوانندگان آواز وووو بر اساس تجربیات واقعی این سفر نوشته شده اند. مان همچنین در سفر ونیز خود شیفته پسری شبیه به شخصیت تاچیو شد، با این تفاوت که او این شیفتگی را به اندازه اشنباخ دنبال نکرد. انطباق ویژگی های دیگر کاراکتر اصلی رمان مانند سخت کوشی، منطق بالا، نظم و انضباط و اخلاقگرایی با شخصیت مان، این تصور را به ذهن می رساند که این شخصیت همان توماس مان نویسنده است.
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🔺 خلاصه داستان یا اسپویل شدید یا چرا باید توت فرنگی را قبل از خوردن بشویید:
داستان «مرگ در ونیز» درباره یک نویسنده سرشناس پنجاه و سه ساله به نام «گوستاو آشنباخ»، از طبقه متوسط رو به بالا است. او که طبق یک برنامه روتین بسیار سختگیرانه می نویسد، هر روز صبح برای مدت معینی کار می کند، اما اخیراً به دلیل کمبود خلاقیت و نداشتن الهام دچار مشکل شده است. او هنگام قدم زدن در کنار قبرستانی در شمال مونیخ، مردی عجیب و غریب را می بیند که ظاهر فردی درحال سفر دارد. این دیدار باعث می شود که آشنباخ به طور موقت از زندگی برنامه ریزی شده خود چشم پوشی کرده و تصمیم بگیرد به روستایی در جنوب سفر کند. سفر آشنباخ او را به ونیز می کشاند، اینجاست که او با یک پسر چهارده ساله زیبا از خانواده ای لهستانی به نام «تاچیو» روبرو می شود. با گذشت زمان او بیشتر و بیشتر شیفته پسر می شود و در نهایت به دنبال این عشق، او تمام نظم و منطقی که اساس تفکرات و زندگی اش بود را رها می کند. بعد از چند هفته، اشنباخ متوجه وضعیت غیرعادی شهر و هتل محل اقامتش می شود. خلوت ناگهانی پلاژ و بوی مواد ضد عفونی کننده که تمام فضای شهر را آکنده، او را مشکوک کرده و سرانجام این راز فاش می شود که وبا در شهر شیوع پیدا کرده اما مسولان از انتشار اخبار جلوگیری می کنند و تنها عده کمی از مردم از حقیقت باخبرند. با وجود شیوع وبا، اشنباخ سعی می کند قبل از اینکه خانواده لهستانی از وخامت اوضاع شهر باخبر شده و آن جا را ترک کنند، بیشتر وقت خود را صرف تماشای تاچیو کرده، و بعد شهر را ترک کند. شیفتگی او که هرگز به صمیمیت فیزیکی منتهی نمیشود، باعث میشود که او بیشتر از قبل و همه جا پسر را دنبال کند و چشم از او بر ندارد. این تعقیب روی هنر اشنباخ تأثیر میگذارد و بلاک ذهنی نویسنده از بین میرود و او میتواند یک بار دیگر آزادانه بنویسد. یک شب، آشنباخ در خواب رویایی را می بیند که در محاصره انبوهی از انسان های رقصنده، زوزه کش و مشعل دار پوشیده از پوست حیوانات در حالی که خدایی را می پرستند، احاطه شده است. عبادت کنندگان در اطراف یک نماد چوبی عظیم ، به رقصی جنون آمیز می پردازند. پس از این رویای عجیب او یک روز دیگر هم به تعقیب خانواده لهستانی در شهر می پردازد اما رد پسر و خانواده اش را گم می کند، او در راه بازگشت مقداری توت فرنگی از یک فروشنده خیابانی می خرد و می خورد. روز بعد، هنگام تماشای تاچیو در ساحل، آشنباخ به طور ناگهانی هوشیاری خود را از دست می دهد و می میرد، ظاهراً به دلیل وبا که توت فرنگی ها را آلوده کرده بوده است.
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مطالعه این کتاب رو خیلی پیشنهاد میکنم، بخصوص برای علاقمندان روانشناسی و نمادپردازی میتونه تجربه همزمان جذابی باشه.
فایل کتاب و ریویو صوتی هم موجوده 😌
لنا:اونا ازم خواستن که فراموششون نکنم...
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«مرگ در ونیز» رو در حالی خوندم که خودم رو بیشتر از هر انسانی که تابحال روی زمین زندگی کرده بیمار و غمگین می دونستم و می دونم. پس در آستانه سالگرد فروپاشی همه زندگیم، به دنبال تسلایی احتمالی و بعید، به دنیای کتاب ها پناهنده شدم و درحالی که عنوان "مرگ" روی جلد هر کتابی، مثل سیاهچاله که نور رو میبلعه منو به طرف خودش می کشید، این اجازه رو به مرگ در ونیز دادم تا شانس خودشو در آروم کردن یا نابود کردنم امتحان کنه. اما نه این شد و نه اون!
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حرف زدن درباره اولین عشق و تکرار ناپذیری اون شبیه یک شوخی مبتذله وقتی که توی زندگی مون، با هر سن و سالی، بارها و بارها عاشق و فارغ میشیم و هربار مشتاقانه درهای قلبمون رو به روی آدم جدید باز می کنیم تا دوباره تجربه ش کنیم. اما بنظر من، اون آدمی خوشبخته که عشق آخرش رو پیدا کنه و بعدش با اون حس توی قلبش بمیره.
این مقدمه شاید کلیشه ای یا بیربط حتی به نظر برسه ولی اسپویل کل کتابه. بنابراين از همه اونایی که از اسپویل شدن متنفرن معذرت نمیخوام چون این کار مورد علاقه منه.
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🔺توماس مان که بود و چه کرد؟ یا تاثیر یک خانواده فرهیخته در زندگی فرزندان را با ذکر مثال نشان دهید.
توماس مان یکی از مهمترین چهره های ادبیات اوایل قرن بیستم در جهان و اولین نویسنده برنده جایزه نوبل ادبیات آلمانی است. او بعنوان دومین فرزند سناتور هنریش مان در سال 1875 در شهر لوبک در آلمان تازه متحد شده متولد شد، اما در هجده سالگی به مونیخ نقل مکان کرد. اولین رمان او، «بودنبروک ها»، در سال 1901 منتشر شد و نام وی را بر سر زبان ها انداخت. پس از این موفقیت او داستان کوتاه «تونیو کروگر» و رمان کوتاه «مرگ در ونیز» را نوشت و محبوبیت بیشتری کسب کرد.
توماس در طول زندگی کاری اش آثار بزرگ دیگری مثل «کوه جادو»، «یوسف و برادرانش» و «دکتر فاستوس» را نیز نوشت که همگی از درخشان ترین نمونه های ادبیات آلمان به شمار میروند اما در سال 1929 جایزه نوبل را برای خلق مشهورترین کتابش «بودنبروک ها» به دست آورد. او یکی از اعضای خانواده ای از نویسندگان و هنردوستانی بود که به وقایع جامعه آلمان و اروپا حساسیت نشان می دادند ( مادر او از علاقمندان موسیقی و برادرش از نویسندگان برجسته بودند). او که مخالف هیتلر بود، از آلمان گریخت و در چندین کشور از جمله ایالات متحده زندگی کرد تا نهایتا در سال 1955 د�� زوریخ از دنیا رفت.
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🔺حقایقی درباره سبک هنری توماس مان یا چطور شروع شد و چطور ادامه یافت؟
توماس مان زندگی هنری خود را در پایان قرن نوزدهم_ اوایل قرن بیستم و در فضای ناتورالیستی آن دوران آغاز کرد. او در ابتدا تحت تاثیر نویسندگان رئالیستی بود و به خوبی به این سبک تسلط داشت؛ به طوری که در رمان «بودنبروک ها»، توصیفات رئالیستی_ ناتورالیستی را به گونه ای به کار گرفت که تا آن زمان در ادبیات آلمان دیده نشده بود.
او بعد تر تبدیل به یکی از خوانندگان مشتاق نیچه شد و در داستانهایش از این فیلسوف و همچنین از آرتور شوپنهاور تاثیر بسیار گرفته از آرای آن دو بعنوان الگویی برای بیان ایدههای ظریف فلسفی شخصیتهای داستانی اش استفاده کرد. این تاثیر پذیری باعث شد که سبک ناتورالیستی توماس تعدیل یافته، رئالیست او پخته تر شده و به نئورمانتیک و سمبولیسم نزدیک شود. نتیجه این تغییر را می توان در شاهکار دیگر او «مرگ در ونیز» مشاهده کرد. او در این رمان ظاهراً از نثر علمی استفاده می کند اما حقیقتی که در پشت این نثر پنهان است، نماد و نمادپردازی خیره کننده توماس مان در خلق شخصیت ها و وقایع است. او این بار رمانی درباره مرگ نوشت که نمونه شگفت انگیزی از هنر نو و نئورمانتیک بود و تمام ویژگی های این سبک را به ظهور رساند.
همچنین در زمان انتشار این رمان به سال 1911، نظریات روانکاوانه زیگموند فروید در جهان شهرت یافته بود و توماس مان نیز بعنوان یکی از خوانندگان و علاقمندان فروید، از او تاثیر پذیرفت؛ به این شکل که در مرگ در ونیز از مضامینی چون سفر به ناخودآگاه، اروس و تاتانوس ، سرکوب امیال و ابژه برانگیزاننده میل که در روانکاوی فروید مطرح می شوند استفاده کرد.
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🔺چرا باید «مرگ در ونیز» را بخوانیم؟ یا اهمیت این رمان در چیست؟ یا چه چیزی این کتاب را خاص می کند؟ و سوالاتی از این دست:
کتابهای شگفتانگیز زیادی را میتوان نام برد که داستان آن ها در شهر ونیز می گذرد، اما هیچ فهرستی بدون «مرگ در ونیز» کامل نمیشود. این رمان کوتاه کلاسیک، داستان «گوستاو فون اشنباخ» نویسنده مشهوری را روایت میکند که در جستجوی الهام برای نوشتن به ونیز سفر می کند. این رمان سرشار از عناصر روانشناختی، تاریخی، انسان شناسی و فرهنگی؛ و نمونه عالی نمادپردازی در هنر مدرن است. اما چیزی که من بیشتر از همه در مورد این کتاب دوست دارم این است که چهره جادویی شهر ونیز را به تصویر کشیده و به آن شخصیت داده است.
به «مرگ در ونیز» می توان به شکل های مختلفی نگاه کرد. این رمان برای برخی ممکن است یک تراژدی عاشق��نه باشد در حالی که برخی دیگر ممکن است تفسیر یک داستان از رهایی از آن داشته باشند. برای من اما این داستان چیزی از هر دو داشت. این رمان یک تراژدی درباره مردی است که به ونیز میرود، اسیر آرزویی می شود که خوب می داند دست نیافتنی است و عاقبت همین اسارت است که منجر به مرگ او می شود. اما این داستان رهایی نیز به این صورت است که مرد مذکور از مسیری که از بدو تولد برای او تعیین شده بود خود را رها میکند و با آزادی کامل قدم در راهی جدید می گذارد که از او انتظار نمی رفت.
این رمان دارای روایت بسیار پیچیده و زبان دشواری است که نشان دهنده توانایی بالای مان در خلق لایه های معنا پردازانه و نمادگرایی است. «مرگ در ونیز» آینه مبارزه ابدی بین احساسات طبیعی و محدودیتهای اخلاقی و عقلی یک انسان منطقی است. توماس مان در این کتاب خواننده را به چالش کشیده و به شک می اندازد تا از خود بپرسد: آیا بهتر است با جان و دل عشق ورزیده و بمیریم یا اصلاً این احساس را تجربه نکنیم؟
از دیگر ویژگی های مهم رمان «مرگ در ونیز» نقش برجسته عناصر روانشناختی در آن است؛ این رمان استعاره ایست از پیچیدگی های روان انسان که آن را عمیق تر و پیچیده تر می کند. از همان ابتدای رمان، ما شاهد این هستیم که رانه های لیبیدویی کاراکتر اصلی به طور کامل سرکوب می شود، اما همانطور که فروید می گوید، سرکوب فقط این رانه ها را به تعویق انداخته و به ناخودآگاه عقب می راند تا در نهایت با یک تلنگر دوباره خودآگاه شده و به صورت دیگر و در زمان مناسب ظاهر شوند.
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🔺«مرگ در ونیز» چگونه متولد شد؟ یا پشت پرده های ناگفته یک رمان مشهور:
«مرگ در ونیز»، مانند اولین رمان مهم توماس مان «بودنبروک ها»، بیشتر از رویدادهای واقعی زندگی وی الهام گرفته است و اغلب آن را نوعی اثر اتوبیوگرافی تلقی می کنند. به این شکل که او در جریان شیوع وبا در سال 1905 در جزیره ای در نزدیکی ونیز زندگی می کرد که همین زمینه ساز داستان کتابش شد. سپس، در سفری به ونیز در سال 1911، او آگهی ترحیم آهنگساز معروف اتریشی «گوستاو مالر» را دید که همین منجر به خلق کاراکتر اصلی داستانی او، «گوستاو فون اشنباخ» شد. نام قهرمان داستان، «گوستاو آشنباخ»، ترکیبی از نام دو هنرمند از زمان وی است. «گوستاو مالر» آهنگساز که گفتیم در هجدهم ماه مه سال 1911 در حالی که مان در تعطیلات خود در ونیز بود درگذشت. همچنین نام «آشنباخ» از «آندریاس آشنباخ»، نقاش مبتکر آن زمان اقتباس شده که روند محبوب آن دوران یعنی نقاشی مناظر رمانتیک را کنار گذاشت.
از سوی دیگر بسیاری از عناصر این رمان، از جمله آب و هوای بد، وبا، تاچیوی جوان و زیبا، گوندولا، خوانندگان آواز وووو بر اساس تجربیات واقعی این سفر نوشته شده اند. مان همچنین در سفر ونیز خود شیفته پسری شبیه به شخصیت تاچیو شد، با این تفاوت که او این شیفتگی را به اندازه اشنباخ دنبال نکرد. انطباق ویژگی های دیگر کاراکتر اصلی رمان مانند سخت کوشی، منطق بالا، نظم و انضباط و اخلاقگرایی با شخصیت مان، این تصور را به ذهن می رساند که این شخصیت همان توماس مان نویسنده است.
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🔺 خلاصه داستان یا اسپویل شدید یا چرا باید توت فرنگی را قبل از خوردن بشویید:
داستان «مرگ در ونیز» درباره یک نویسنده سرشناس پنجاه و سه ساله به نام «گوستاو آشنباخ»، از طبقه متوسط رو به بالا است. او که طبق یک برنامه روتین بسیار سختگیرانه می نویسد، هر روز صبح برای مدت معینی کار می کند، اما اخیراً به دلیل کمبود خلاقیت و نداشتن الهام دچار مشکل شده است. او هنگام قدم زدن در کنار قبرستانی در شمال مونیخ، مردی عجیب و غریب را می بیند که ظاهر فردی درحال سفر دارد. این دیدار باعث می شود که آشنباخ به طور موقت از زندگی برنامه ریزی شده خود چشم پوشی کرده و تصمیم بگیرد به روستایی در جنوب سفر کند. سفر آشنباخ او را به ونیز می کشاند، اینجاست که او با یک پسر چهارده ساله زیبا از خانواده ای لهستانی به نام «تاچیو» روبرو می شود. با گذشت زمان او بیشتر و بیشتر شیفته پسر می شود و در نهایت به دنبال این عشق، او تمام نظم و منطقی که اساس تفکرات و زندگی اش بود را رها می کند. بعد از چند هفته، اشنباخ متوجه وضعیت غیرعادی شهر و هتل محل اقامتش می شود. خلوت ناگهانی پلاژ و بوی مواد ضد عفونی کننده که تمام فضای شهر را آکنده، او را مشکوک کرده و سرانجام این راز فاش می شود که وبا در شهر شیوع پیدا کرده اما مسولان از انتشار اخبار جلوگیری می کنند و تنها عده کمی از مردم از حقیقت باخبرند. با وجود شیوع وبا، اشنباخ سعی می کند قبل از اینکه خانواده لهستانی از وخامت اوضاع شهر باخبر شده و آن جا را ترک کنند، بیشتر وقت خود را صرف تماشای تاچیو کرده، و بعد شهر را ترک کند. شیفتگی او که هرگز به صمیمیت فیزیکی منتهی نمیشود، باعث میشود که او بیشتر از قبل و همه جا پسر را دنبال کند و چشم از او بر ندارد. این تعقیب روی هنر اشنباخ تأثیر میگذارد و بلاک ذهنی نویسنده از بین میرود و او میتواند یک بار دیگر آزادانه بنویسد. یک شب، آشنباخ در خواب رویایی را می بیند که در محاصره انبوهی از انسان های رقصنده، زوزه کش و مشعل دار پوشیده از پوست حیوانات در حالی که خدایی را می پرستند، احاطه شده است. عبادت کنندگان در اطراف یک نماد چوبی عظیم ، به رقصی جنون آمیز می پردازند. پس از این رویای عجیب او یک روز دیگر هم به تعقیب خانواده لهستانی در شهر می پردازد اما رد پسر و خانواده اش را گم می کند، او در راه بازگشت مقداری توت فرنگی از یک فروشنده خیابانی می خرد و می خورد. روز بعد، هنگام تماشای تاچیو در ساحل، آشنباخ به طور ناگهانی هوشیاری خود را از دست می دهد و می میرد، ظاهراً به دلیل وبا که توت فرنگی ها را آلوده کرده بوده است.
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مطالعه این کتاب رو خیلی پیشنهاد میکنم، بخصوص برای علاقمندان روانشناسی و نمادپردازی میتونه تجربه همزمان جذابی باشه.
فایل کتاب و ریویو صوتی هم موجوده 😌
April 21, 2021
Jurnaliștii, librarii, istoricii literari, autorii de topuri au răscolit bibliotecile și au întocmit cataloage de cărți despre epidemii. Povestirea lui Thomas Mann a fost adesea uitată.
Firește, interesul prozatorului se îndreaptă, cum știm deja, îndeosebi asupra trăirilor „celebrului scriitor” Gustav von Aschenbach îndrăgostit brutal de tînărul polonez Tadzio. Discuția despre relația dintre rațiune și simțire, dintre interdict și dorință, dintre eros și moarte a mobilizat toată subtilitatea și astuția criticilor. Epidemia de holeră care devastează orașul și grăbește sfîrșitul lui von Aschenbach a rămas un subiect secundar.
Mulți au pretins că trebuie să privim din unghi simbolic și gondolele întunecate „ca niște sicrie”, și „aerul putred, de mlaștină” de deasupra străzilor strîmte, și figura bătrînului de pe vasul care-l aduce pe scriitor în oraș. Eu aș citi literal (și nu alegoric) întreaga desfășurare a epidemiei, fiindcă ea poate fi comparată cu evenimente reale și foarte apropiate de noi. Să vedem...
Ceea ce-l intrigă pe protagonist este mai întîi un miros ciudat de dezinfectant, de acid fenic. Are o vagă bănuială cînd ascultă liturghia în basilica San Marco: „în mireasma dulceagă şi grea a catedralei simţi deodată strecurîndu-se un alt miros, mirosul oraşului bîntuit de molimă”. Ceva nu-i în ordine. Dorește să afle adevărul, consultă ziarele italiene, dar nu găsește nimic despre holeră. A intervenit cenzura. Îl întreabă pe patronul hotelului, dar primește răspunsuri vagi, ocolitoare: „Aşa a poruncit poliţia. Astea sînt prescripţiile, domnule”. E limpede că „blestemata sete de bani” îi oprește pe comercianți să recunoască franc realitatea: ar da faliment. Cînd vorbesc despre epidemie, îi diminuează proporțiile: nu-i ceva grav, e doar o măsură preventivă. Sună cunoscut, nu-i așa?
Citez doar acest pasaj despre zvonurile care bîntuie orașul:
Firește, interesul prozatorului se îndreaptă, cum știm deja, îndeosebi asupra trăirilor „celebrului scriitor” Gustav von Aschenbach îndrăgostit brutal de tînărul polonez Tadzio. Discuția despre relația dintre rațiune și simțire, dintre interdict și dorință, dintre eros și moarte a mobilizat toată subtilitatea și astuția criticilor. Epidemia de holeră care devastează orașul și grăbește sfîrșitul lui von Aschenbach a rămas un subiect secundar.
Mulți au pretins că trebuie să privim din unghi simbolic și gondolele întunecate „ca niște sicrie”, și „aerul putred, de mlaștină” de deasupra străzilor strîmte, și figura bătrînului de pe vasul care-l aduce pe scriitor în oraș. Eu aș citi literal (și nu alegoric) întreaga desfășurare a epidemiei, fiindcă ea poate fi comparată cu evenimente reale și foarte apropiate de noi. Să vedem...
Ceea ce-l intrigă pe protagonist este mai întîi un miros ciudat de dezinfectant, de acid fenic. Are o vagă bănuială cînd ascultă liturghia în basilica San Marco: „în mireasma dulceagă şi grea a catedralei simţi deodată strecurîndu-se un alt miros, mirosul oraşului bîntuit de molimă”. Ceva nu-i în ordine. Dorește să afle adevărul, consultă ziarele italiene, dar nu găsește nimic despre holeră. A intervenit cenzura. Îl întreabă pe patronul hotelului, dar primește răspunsuri vagi, ocolitoare: „Aşa a poruncit poliţia. Astea sînt prescripţiile, domnule”. E limpede că „blestemata sete de bani” îi oprește pe comercianți să recunoască franc realitatea: ar da faliment. Cînd vorbesc despre epidemie, îi diminuează proporțiile: nu-i ceva grav, e doar o măsură preventivă. Sună cunoscut, nu-i așa?
Citez doar acest pasaj despre zvonurile care bîntuie orașul:
„Se părea că numărul celor contaminaţi, numărul cazurilor mortale, ar fi de douăzeci, de patruzeci, ba chiar de o sută, şi poate şi mai mult, pentru ca numaidecît după aceea să se pretindă nu că n-ar fi nici o epidemie, dar că nu e vorba decît de cîteva cazuri izolate. Ici-colo mai găsea şi unele îndemnuri şi consideraţii, cîteva proteste împotriva jocului primejdios al autorităţilor italiene. Nu era deci chip să afle ceva sigur”.
December 17, 2015
Since the piece is well known as being a landmark work of fiction regarding male homosexuality, I am not going to focus on that in my review, or on its other element that has been flogged to death as well, being the rather extreme youth (age 14) of the love object.
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Well! What a conflicting piece of fiction. The novella seems fairly divisive amongst critics, but one thing that I think most of us can agree on, is that the novella is a discomfiting piece of writing. I suspect this was so for the author as well as for his readers.
For me this was not because of how the protagonist's obsession affected his love-object, but because of how this obsession affected the protagonist himself.
... and, I couldn't shake the feeling that the novella was pretty much autobiographical in many senses. (I found out later that it was so in many respects, and the love-object is based on a real person. Most uncomfortable of all, is that the 'real' Tadzio, was the 10-year old Wladyslaw Moes).
Achenbach, the protagonist, is a well-respected author, who, like Mann, tends to engage with political and intellectual issues in his work. Like Achenbach, Mann visited Venice, where he made the acquaintance of a young boy whose beauty he apparently admired; with the difference that Mann was accompanied by his wife and brother, while Achenbach was alone. Okay, there are a few other differences as well - and one pretty large one, but that's a spoiler.
Many reviewers and critics have made much ado about the protagonist's homosexuality and/or his pederastic inclinations, but I think what disturbed me most was the stalker-ish intensity of the protagonist's infatuation, and to an extent also how he totally overromanticized the idea of physical beauty, using purple prose and overblown idealistic sentiments to describe his thoughts on physical human beauty, (which I deeply disagree with), and which Mann propped up with symbolism from Greek mythology, and references to Platonic ideals.
Ironically, Björn Johan Andrésen, who played the role of the fourteen-year-old Tadzio in Luchino Visconti's 1971 film adaptation of Death in Venice, is credited with saying: “One of the diseases of the world is that we associate beauty with youth. We are wrong. The eyes and the face are the windows of the soul and these become more beautiful with the age and pain that life brings. True ugliness comes only from having a black heart”.
Because I have long known that beauty is only skin-deep, I like those sentiments a lot better than:
... he believed that his eyes gazed upon beauty itself, form as divine thought, the sole and pure perfection that dwells in the mind and whose human likeness and representation, lithe and lovely, was here displayed for veneration. This was intoxication, and the aging artist welcomed it unquestioningly, indeed, avidly. His mind was in a whirl, his cultural convictions in ferment; his memory cast up ancient thoughts passed on to him in his youth though never yet animated by his own fire. Was it not common knowledge that the sun diverts our attention from the intellectual to the sensual? It benumbs and bewitches both reason and memory such that the soul in its elation quite forgets its true nature and clings with rapt delight to the fairest of sundrenched objects, nay, only with the aid of the corporeal can it ascend to more lofty considerations. Cupid truly did as mathematicians do when they show concrete images of pure forms to incompetent pupils: he made the mental visible to us by using the shape and coloration of human youths and turned them into memory's tool by adorning them with all the luster of beauty and kindling pain and hope in us at the sight of them...
Some interesting thoughts there, though I disagree with the sentiments expressed in bold. Were these the thoughts of the protagonist, or the author himself? From his notes, it would seem that these were actually Mann's own sentiments. They do seem a perfect rationalization for a man in Achenbach's position to make though, which makes them pretty fitting in their context, I must concede.
I am surprised that so many people, with so much evidence to the contrary, can still invoke Plato's ideas of essence = form when it comes to physical beauty = spiritual beauty. Surely, it doesn't require too much contemplation to come to the conclusion that physical beauty does not equal spiritual beauty?
One could muse that perhaps what Achenbach is rather saying, in what seems like a rationalization for his passion, that beauty can inspire love, the latter which is in itself beautiful. ...and yet, since in this specific context the object of that passion is so young, and vain, and since they had never even exchanged a word with one another, could this be love? Methinks not - this could surely be but an infatuation of the senses.
From the notes Mann made for the writing of the novella, it is clear that part of what he wanted to show, was that an artist (an author like himself) cannot be a dignified, purely rational creature, that he needs to be in touch with his passions and emotions, and that the act of creating art is inherently not a dispassionate activity.
Something else that Mann seems to be saying behind the scenes, is that love itself cannot be dignified, that love pushes an individual into undignified behavior.
Mann being a fairly obviously repressed individual, one can read a certain parallel between the disease that infects Venice, with Achenbach's almost insane passion (insanity features in Mann's notes). Mann seems to see these homosexual pederastic impulses that one surmises he felt himself, as at the same time degrading and ennobling. Ennobling, so the reasoning seems to go, in the sense of that when a person degrades himself for love, it can be seen as a kind of sacrifice of dignity for a higher cause (being, in this case, "love").
But one can only follow such reasoning if you can agree that a passion that seems so distant, unrealistic and physical can be ennobling and can be described as "love".
To put the matter in a slightly different context - make a small leap in your mind and imagine that the love-object here is instead a 40-year old woman. If the latter was the case, would the scenario in DIV still be creepy? Indeed, it would. What would make the scenario still creepy? It would still be a purely physical obsession characterized by stalkerish behaviour.
So one ends up asking yourself how far selfishly and obsessively stalking someone can really be an expression of love? ..and if it is to the extent that one puts this behaviour of yours above the wellbeing of its object? ..and what when the continuation of this behaviour puts the other's life in danger, then is it not actually selfishness and the opposite of love?
Of course, when the object of your obsession is only 14 years old, not making contact can probably be seen as the nobler action to take than to make contact; and sticking to stalking behaviour is probably preferable to some potential alternatives.
In spite of my criticism of Mann's ideas and of his patches of overwrought, overemotional purple prose, the latter suits the subject of the story well, and there are certainly a lot of thought-provoking ideas and well-executed imagery.
Mann also displays keen insight into his characters. He portrays the aging, smitten homosexual well, and the dissolution of his personality via the intensity of his obsession is conveyed with pathos despite the relentless dissection under Mann's unnerving microscope.
One feels torn between pity for Achenbach while at the same time suppressing a shudder at the creepiness of his stalking behavior - but Mann manages to make him look pathetic more than anything else.
Mann also remarks on Tadzio's narcissism with acute insight. According to The Real Tadzio: Thomas Mann's Death in Venice and the Boy Who Inspired It, the latter was indeed a pretty narcissistic person who enjoyed the attentions of older men, so Mann was pretty spot-on with his portrayals.
All-in-all, as with all good fiction, the novel leaves one with conflicted feelings. And, like all good fiction, it makes you roll around its various elements in your head, considering and re-considering; trying to find definite stances. The fact that the latter is so hard to do with this work of fiction, is a part of what makes it good fiction, whether one agrees with all of the specific ideas put forward by it or not.
---
I must mention that I started the novella with the e-book version of the translation by Michael Henry Heim, and finished with the translation by Clayton Koelb, with some cross-over where I read passages out of both. The latter claims to be the most natural and most US-friendly translation out there, but these two translations appeared fairly similar to me.
-----
Well! What a conflicting piece of fiction. The novella seems fairly divisive amongst critics, but one thing that I think most of us can agree on, is that the novella is a discomfiting piece of writing. I suspect this was so for the author as well as for his readers.
For me this was not because of how the protagonist's obsession affected his love-object, but because of how this obsession affected the protagonist himself.
... and, I couldn't shake the feeling that the novella was pretty much autobiographical in many senses. (I found out later that it was so in many respects, and the love-object is based on a real person. Most uncomfortable of all, is that the 'real' Tadzio, was the 10-year old Wladyslaw Moes).
Achenbach, the protagonist, is a well-respected author, who, like Mann, tends to engage with political and intellectual issues in his work. Like Achenbach, Mann visited Venice, where he made the acquaintance of a young boy whose beauty he apparently admired; with the difference that Mann was accompanied by his wife and brother, while Achenbach was alone. Okay, there are a few other differences as well - and one pretty large one, but that's a spoiler.
Many reviewers and critics have made much ado about the protagonist's homosexuality and/or his pederastic inclinations, but I think what disturbed me most was the stalker-ish intensity of the protagonist's infatuation, and to an extent also how he totally overromanticized the idea of physical beauty, using purple prose and overblown idealistic sentiments to describe his thoughts on physical human beauty, (which I deeply disagree with), and which Mann propped up with symbolism from Greek mythology, and references to Platonic ideals.
Ironically, Björn Johan Andrésen, who played the role of the fourteen-year-old Tadzio in Luchino Visconti's 1971 film adaptation of Death in Venice, is credited with saying: “One of the diseases of the world is that we associate beauty with youth. We are wrong. The eyes and the face are the windows of the soul and these become more beautiful with the age and pain that life brings. True ugliness comes only from having a black heart”.
Because I have long known that beauty is only skin-deep, I like those sentiments a lot better than:
... he believed that his eyes gazed upon beauty itself, form as divine thought, the sole and pure perfection that dwells in the mind and whose human likeness and representation, lithe and lovely, was here displayed for veneration. This was intoxication, and the aging artist welcomed it unquestioningly, indeed, avidly. His mind was in a whirl, his cultural convictions in ferment; his memory cast up ancient thoughts passed on to him in his youth though never yet animated by his own fire. Was it not common knowledge that the sun diverts our attention from the intellectual to the sensual? It benumbs and bewitches both reason and memory such that the soul in its elation quite forgets its true nature and clings with rapt delight to the fairest of sundrenched objects, nay, only with the aid of the corporeal can it ascend to more lofty considerations. Cupid truly did as mathematicians do when they show concrete images of pure forms to incompetent pupils: he made the mental visible to us by using the shape and coloration of human youths and turned them into memory's tool by adorning them with all the luster of beauty and kindling pain and hope in us at the sight of them...
Some interesting thoughts there, though I disagree with the sentiments expressed in bold. Were these the thoughts of the protagonist, or the author himself? From his notes, it would seem that these were actually Mann's own sentiments. They do seem a perfect rationalization for a man in Achenbach's position to make though, which makes them pretty fitting in their context, I must concede.
I am surprised that so many people, with so much evidence to the contrary, can still invoke Plato's ideas of essence = form when it comes to physical beauty = spiritual beauty. Surely, it doesn't require too much contemplation to come to the conclusion that physical beauty does not equal spiritual beauty?
One could muse that perhaps what Achenbach is rather saying, in what seems like a rationalization for his passion, that beauty can inspire love, the latter which is in itself beautiful. ...and yet, since in this specific context the object of that passion is so young, and vain, and since they had never even exchanged a word with one another, could this be love? Methinks not - this could surely be but an infatuation of the senses.
From the notes Mann made for the writing of the novella, it is clear that part of what he wanted to show, was that an artist (an author like himself) cannot be a dignified, purely rational creature, that he needs to be in touch with his passions and emotions, and that the act of creating art is inherently not a dispassionate activity.
Something else that Mann seems to be saying behind the scenes, is that love itself cannot be dignified, that love pushes an individual into undignified behavior.
Mann being a fairly obviously repressed individual, one can read a certain parallel between the disease that infects Venice, with Achenbach's almost insane passion (insanity features in Mann's notes). Mann seems to see these homosexual pederastic impulses that one surmises he felt himself, as at the same time degrading and ennobling. Ennobling, so the reasoning seems to go, in the sense of that when a person degrades himself for love, it can be seen as a kind of sacrifice of dignity for a higher cause (being, in this case, "love").
But one can only follow such reasoning if you can agree that a passion that seems so distant, unrealistic and physical can be ennobling and can be described as "love".
To put the matter in a slightly different context - make a small leap in your mind and imagine that the love-object here is instead a 40-year old woman. If the latter was the case, would the scenario in DIV still be creepy? Indeed, it would. What would make the scenario still creepy? It would still be a purely physical obsession characterized by stalkerish behaviour.
So one ends up asking yourself how far selfishly and obsessively stalking someone can really be an expression of love? ..and if it is to the extent that one puts this behaviour of yours above the wellbeing of its object? ..and what when the continuation of this behaviour puts the other's life in danger, then is it not actually selfishness and the opposite of love?
Of course, when the object of your obsession is only 14 years old, not making contact can probably be seen as the nobler action to take than to make contact; and sticking to stalking behaviour is probably preferable to some potential alternatives.
In spite of my criticism of Mann's ideas and of his patches of overwrought, overemotional purple prose, the latter suits the subject of the story well, and there are certainly a lot of thought-provoking ideas and well-executed imagery.
Mann also displays keen insight into his characters. He portrays the aging, smitten homosexual well, and the dissolution of his personality via the intensity of his obsession is conveyed with pathos despite the relentless dissection under Mann's unnerving microscope.
One feels torn between pity for Achenbach while at the same time suppressing a shudder at the creepiness of his stalking behavior - but Mann manages to make him look pathetic more than anything else.
Mann also remarks on Tadzio's narcissism with acute insight. According to The Real Tadzio: Thomas Mann's Death in Venice and the Boy Who Inspired It, the latter was indeed a pretty narcissistic person who enjoyed the attentions of older men, so Mann was pretty spot-on with his portrayals.
All-in-all, as with all good fiction, the novel leaves one with conflicted feelings. And, like all good fiction, it makes you roll around its various elements in your head, considering and re-considering; trying to find definite stances. The fact that the latter is so hard to do with this work of fiction, is a part of what makes it good fiction, whether one agrees with all of the specific ideas put forward by it or not.
---
I must mention that I started the novella with the e-book version of the translation by Michael Henry Heim, and finished with the translation by Clayton Koelb, with some cross-over where I read passages out of both. The latter claims to be the most natural and most US-friendly translation out there, but these two translations appeared fairly similar to me.
Read
December 2, 2021My plan this morning was to post a brief review (my practical side always gains the upper hand in December) of Heinrich Mann's Professor Unrat. The review would go like this:
A solitary individual in his late fifties, a studious type who likes nothing better than to sit at his desk and write about the past, is overcome by a sudden and unexpected passion. He abandons his usual pursuits and follows the passion until it destroys him.
When I'd typed it out, it struck me that it was also a description of Heinrich Mann's brother's book, Death in Venice which I also read recently!
Leave it to me, says Practical.
A solitary individual in his late fifties, a studious type who likes nothing better than to sit at his desk and write about the past, is overcome by a sudden and unexpected passion. He abandons his usual pursuits and follows the passion until it destroys him.
When I'd typed it out, it struck me that it was also a description of Heinrich Mann's brother's book, Death in Venice which I also read recently!
Leave it to me, says Practical.
October 12, 2023
کتابی پر از اسطوره، استعاره و نشانه که هر جسم و نقش و مواجهه ای رنگ و چهره ا ی متفاوت و کنایه آمیز از مرگ رو نشون میده...
و در پس این نمادهای نابودی جسمانی، با قرار دادن گذشته ی شفاف " آشنباخ " در مقابل میل و وسوسه ی نوظهور زمان حال ش، توماس مان امکان سقوط و تباهی اخلاقی رو هم به تصویر کشیده ...
" در کنه دل میپذیرفت که این میل فرار است، هوس رفتن به دوردست و جهانی تازه، تمنای آزادی و گسستن و از یاد بردن،...."
و در پس این نمادهای نابودی جسمانی، با قرار دادن گذشته ی شفاف " آشنباخ " در مقابل میل و وسوسه ی نوظهور زمان حال ش، توماس مان امکان سقوط و تباهی اخلاقی رو هم به تصویر کشیده ...
" در کنه دل میپذیرفت که این میل فرار است، هوس رفتن به دوردست و جهانی تازه، تمنای آزادی و گسستن و از یاد بردن،...."
February 4, 2022
يبحث توماس مان في فكرة الجمال المطلق كقيمة ورمز
من خلال افتتان آشنباخ بطل روايته بجمال مدينة البندقية والفتى الصغير تادسيو
جمال يُغلفه شيء من سحر الكمال يزول تدريجيا لتبدو الصورة عادية وواقعية
تتناول الرواية رؤية الفن والإبداع والحداثة والفارق ما بين المظاهر والحقيقة
وتشير في النهاية لقوة الواقع بعيدا عن أوهام وخيالات الجمال المثالية
من خلال افتتان آشنباخ بطل روايته بجمال مدينة البندقية والفتى الصغير تادسيو
جمال يُغلفه شيء من سحر الكمال يزول تدريجيا لتبدو الصورة عادية وواقعية
تتناول الرواية رؤية الفن والإبداع والحداثة والفارق ما بين المظاهر والحقيقة
وتشير في النهاية لقوة الواقع بعيدا عن أوهام وخيالات الجمال المثالية
May 21, 2023
No hay sombra de duda que como lector siempre me voy a cruzar con alguna novela que me parecerá un poco redundante y demasiado superficial y pretenciosa para mi gusto. Bueno, este ha sido mi caso.
La muerte en Venecia es en esencia la historia de un pedófilo que se enamora de un joven de 14 años mientras se encuentra de vacaciones en el lugar para tomarse un respiro de su profesión como escritor. Ya, no hay nada más... o bueno, sí que lo hay pero al ser tan corta no vi la necesidad de querer utilizar tantos temas en casi nada de páginas, porque la final termina en mucho por abarcar pero poco por apretar.
Los dos primeros capítulos se pierde muchísimo en un contenido que básicamente son divagaciones del personaje principal sobre la literatura, la creatividad, el arte y la escritura y su oficio como alguien en el mundo que debe dar ejemplo moral a través de su profesión.
Luego en los siguientes capítulos nos muestra el interés del señor por el niño, al cual acecha constantemente con miradas y con una obsesión insana que en su mente él jura es algo romántico y que a la vez es correspondido y recíproco por parten de Tadzio, mientras hace alusión a la filosofía y mitos griegos.
Y después se pierde aún más en simbolismos y literariedades sobre la peste que está azotando el lugar y que afecta a la población por la deficiencia y negligencia del estado solo para decir que el gobierno prefiere quedarse callado si se aseguran más dinero en el bolsillo.
En fin, que es corta, que se lee rápido, pero que a mi parecer en tan poco no me compensa con nada. Protagonizada por un ser desagradable que recurre a la filosofía y la historia griega para sentirse válido con su interés evidente hacia un niño que solo le sirve para excusarse y justificarse de su pedofilia. Y que además hace demasiadas reflexiones profundas y con muchas florituras cansinas que no van al grano.
Para mí, hace aguas por todas partes. Se quiere centrar en varias cosas que pudieron ser interesantes pero al final ninguna terminó por convencerme.
La muerte en Venecia es en esencia la historia de un pedófilo que se enamora de un joven de 14 años mientras se encuentra de vacaciones en el lugar para tomarse un respiro de su profesión como escritor. Ya, no hay nada más... o bueno, sí que lo hay pero al ser tan corta no vi la necesidad de querer utilizar tantos temas en casi nada de páginas, porque la final termina en mucho por abarcar pero poco por apretar.
Los dos primeros capítulos se pierde muchísimo en un contenido que básicamente son divagaciones del personaje principal sobre la literatura, la creatividad, el arte y la escritura y su oficio como alguien en el mundo que debe dar ejemplo moral a través de su profesión.
Luego en los siguientes capítulos nos muestra el interés del señor por el niño, al cual acecha constantemente con miradas y con una obsesión insana que en su mente él jura es algo romántico y que a la vez es correspondido y recíproco por parten de Tadzio, mientras hace alusión a la filosofía y mitos griegos.
Y después se pierde aún más en simbolismos y literariedades sobre la peste que está azotando el lugar y que afecta a la población por la deficiencia y negligencia del estado solo para decir que el gobierno prefiere quedarse callado si se aseguran más dinero en el bolsillo.
En fin, que es corta, que se lee rápido, pero que a mi parecer en tan poco no me compensa con nada. Protagonizada por un ser desagradable que recurre a la filosofía y la historia griega para sentirse válido con su interés evidente hacia un niño que solo le sirve para excusarse y justificarse de su pedofilia. Y que además hace demasiadas reflexiones profundas y con muchas florituras cansinas que no van al grano.
Para mí, hace aguas por todas partes. Se quiere centrar en varias cosas que pudieron ser interesantes pero al final ninguna terminó por convencerme.
September 22, 2021
Rating: 3.5* of five
ADDED SEPTEMBER 2021
The Publisher Says: Death in Venice tells how Gustave von Aschenbach, a writer utterly absorbed in his work, arrives in Venice as a result of a 'youthfully ardent thirst for distant scenes,' and meets there a young boy by whose beauty he becomes obsessed. His pitiful pursuit of the object of his abnormal affection and its inevitable and pathetic climax is told here with the particular skill the author has for this shorter form of fiction.
***
Do I really need to explicate for even the meanest, least gay-friendly mouth-breather that this "blurb" is exactly why there is, and needs to be, a Gay Pride Movement and there is not, and need not be, a straight-people equivalent? And may I just add that this is exactly why I detest this book, pretty phrases or no.
The Book Report: I feel a complete fool providing a plot precis for this canonical work. Gustav von Ascherbach, literary lion in his sixties, wanders about his home town of Munich while struggling with a recalcitrant new story. His chance encounter with a weirdo, though no words are exchanged between them, ignites in Herr von Ascherbach the need to get out of town, to get himself to the delicious fleshpots of the South. An abortive stay in Illyria (now Bosnia or Montenegro or Croatia, no knowing which since we're not given much to go on) leads him to make his second journey to Venice. Arriving in the sin capital of the early modern world, and even in the early 20th century possessed of a louche reputation, brings him into contact with two life-changing things: A beautiful teenaged boy, and cholera. I think the title fills you in on the rest.
My Review: I know this was written in 1911-1912, and is therefore to be judged by the standards of another era, but I am bone-weary of stories featuring men whose love for other males brings them to disaster and death. This is the story that started me on that path of dislike. Von Ascherbach realizes he's in love for the first time in his pinched, narrow life, and it's with a 14-year-old boy; his response is to make himself ridiculous, following the kid around, staying in his Venetian Garden of Eros despite knowing for sure there's a cholera epidemic, despite being warned of the dangers of staying, despite smelling decay and death and miasmic uccchiness all around, because he's in love. But with the wrong kind of person...a male. Therefore Mann makes him pay the ultimate price, he loses his life because he gives in and falls hopelessly, stupidly in love. With a male. Mann makes his judgment of this moral turpitude even more explicit by making it a chaste, though to modern eyes not unrequited, love between an old man and a boy. Explicit references to Classical culture aside, the entire atmosphere of the novel is quite evidently designed to point up the absurdity and the impossibility of such a love being rewarding or rewarded. It's not in the least mysterious what Mann's after: Denial, denial, denial! It's your only salvation, faggots! Deny yourself, don't let yourself feel anything rather than feel *that*!
This book offends my sensibilities. Gorgeously built images and sonorously elegant sentences earn it all of its points.
ADDED SEPTEMBER 2021
The Publisher Says: Death in Venice tells how Gustave von Aschenbach, a writer utterly absorbed in his work, arrives in Venice as a result of a 'youthfully ardent thirst for distant scenes,' and meets there a young boy by whose beauty he becomes obsessed. His pitiful pursuit of the object of his abnormal affection and its inevitable and pathetic climax is told here with the particular skill the author has for this shorter form of fiction.
***
Do I really need to explicate for even the meanest, least gay-friendly mouth-breather that this "blurb" is exactly why there is, and needs to be, a Gay Pride Movement and there is not, and need not be, a straight-people equivalent? And may I just add that this is exactly why I detest this book, pretty phrases or no.
The Book Report: I feel a complete fool providing a plot precis for this canonical work. Gustav von Ascherbach, literary lion in his sixties, wanders about his home town of Munich while struggling with a recalcitrant new story. His chance encounter with a weirdo, though no words are exchanged between them, ignites in Herr von Ascherbach the need to get out of town, to get himself to the delicious fleshpots of the South. An abortive stay in Illyria (now Bosnia or Montenegro or Croatia, no knowing which since we're not given much to go on) leads him to make his second journey to Venice. Arriving in the sin capital of the early modern world, and even in the early 20th century possessed of a louche reputation, brings him into contact with two life-changing things: A beautiful teenaged boy, and cholera. I think the title fills you in on the rest.
My Review: I know this was written in 1911-1912, and is therefore to be judged by the standards of another era, but I am bone-weary of stories featuring men whose love for other males brings them to disaster and death. This is the story that started me on that path of dislike. Von Ascherbach realizes he's in love for the first time in his pinched, narrow life, and it's with a 14-year-old boy; his response is to make himself ridiculous, following the kid around, staying in his Venetian Garden of Eros despite knowing for sure there's a cholera epidemic, despite being warned of the dangers of staying, despite smelling decay and death and miasmic uccchiness all around, because he's in love. But with the wrong kind of person...a male. Therefore Mann makes him pay the ultimate price, he loses his life because he gives in and falls hopelessly, stupidly in love. With a male. Mann makes his judgment of this moral turpitude even more explicit by making it a chaste, though to modern eyes not unrequited, love between an old man and a boy. Explicit references to Classical culture aside, the entire atmosphere of the novel is quite evidently designed to point up the absurdity and the impossibility of such a love being rewarding or rewarded. It's not in the least mysterious what Mann's after: Denial, denial, denial! It's your only salvation, faggots! Deny yourself, don't let yourself feel anything rather than feel *that*!
This book offends my sensibilities. Gorgeously built images and sonorously elegant sentences earn it all of its points.
April 11, 2021
Ένας σοβαρός και διάσημος συγγραφέας που χαίρει της γενικής εκτίμησης και αναγνώρισης του κοινού, αποφασίζει να ξεσκάσει για κάποιες εβδομάδες στη Βενετία, διακόπτοντας την αυστηρή και άκαμπτη προσήλωσή του στην καθημερινή πνευματική εργασία όπου είναι ταγμένος. Μοιάζει θαυμάσιο.
Όμως, ο Τόμας Μαν, σε αυτή την υπέροχη ιστορία, φροντίζει από νωρίς να στείλει τα μαύρα κοράκια να μηνύσουν τον αναγνώστη για το κακό που καιροφυλακτεί. Οι μαύρες λακαρισμένες γόνδολες και οι σκοτεινές μορφές των γονδολιέρηδων σκίζουν τα κανάλια σαν φέρετρα επανδρωμένα με δημίους. Το ελώδες, υγρό σκηνικό, εκεί όπου μπορεί να ευδοκιμήσει η αρρώστια, γίνεται ταυτόχρονα το ιδανικό μέσο για να γεννηθεί και να πολλαπλασιαστεί η νοητική παραζάλη, η μεγαλύτερη πλάνη όλων, ο έρωτας.
Η λογική και η σοβαρότητα υποτάσσεται, γονατίζει μπροστά σε ένα φρέσκο, δυνατό συναίσθημα. Ο γέρος σοφός Άσενμπαχ υποκλίνεται μπροστά στην ομορφιά που θαρρείς αποστάζεται μπροστά στα μάτια του, και γέρνει προς αυτήν όπως το λουλούδι που κλίνει προς τον ζωοδότη ήλιο για να αντλήσει τα μέγιστα από αυτόν. Ο νους χάνει έδαφος από τη γλώσσα του συναισθήματος που γλείφει λάγνα την περιοχή -ποιος μπορεί να αντισταθεί στην ομορφιά; Ακόμα και ο πιο αξιοπρεπής, ο λογικότερος όλων, δελεάζεται και χαλαρώνει τον χαλινό της αυτοσυγκράτησης που τον χαρακτηρίζει, για να αφεθεί έμπλεος από την πρωτόλεια συγκίνηση που τον περιζώνει. Ο ηθικός νόμος της αξιοπρέπειας υποχωρεί, γίνεται κομματάκια· ο έρωτας και η σαγήνη, άμετρα καθώς είναι, κατά τη μετωπική σύγκρουση μαζί τους, σαρώνουν μέσα σε έναν εσωτερικό ανεμοστρόβιλο κάθε ίχνος λογικής που επιμελώς φροντίζεται, με συνέπεια χτίζεται και ανελλιπώς στιλβώνεται από τον πειθαρχημένο και συγκροτημένο νου. Και κάπως έτσι, η ομορφιά, ο έρωτας, η φυσικότητα, ο αυθορμητισμός γίνονται τελικά η καταδίκη που οδηγεί στον θάνατο.
«Γιατί πρέπει να ξέρεις πως εμείς οι ποιητές δεν μπορούμε να ακολουθήσουμε το δρόμο της ομορφιάς χωρίς τον Έρωτα σύντροφο κι οδηγό μας· ναι, ακόμη κι αν, με τον δικό μας τρόπο, είμαστε ήρωες και πειθαρχημένοι πολεμιστές στην τέχνη ας, πάλι είμαστε σαν τις γυναίκες, γιατί ανάταση στην ψυχή μας φέρνει μονάχα το πάθος, και βαθιά μας επιθυμία μένει πάντα η αγάπη -αυτή είναι η απόλαυσή μας και η ντροπή μας. Καταλαβαίνεις μήπως τώρα ότι εμείς οι ποιητές δεν μπορούμε να είμαστε ούτε σοφοί ούτε αξιοπρεπείς; Πως η παραπλάνησή μας είναι μοιραία, πως αναγκαστικά παραμένουμε ακόλαστοι τυχοδιώκτες του συναισθήματος;»
Μέχρι ένα σημείο απλώς διάβαζα. Από ένα σημείο και μετά, έφαγα το δόλωμα, δάγκωσα το αγκίστρι της αφηγηματικής τέχνης του Τόμας Μαν, παγιδεύτηκα στην ελεγεία του κάλλους που έχει υφάνει· κι έμεινα να απολαμβάνω, πλανημένη και εγώ, από τον αυθορμητισμό και την ορμή του συναισθήματος.
Η ομορφιά θα σώσει τον κόσμο. Αλλά και θα τον κάψει, χωρίς διαπραγμάτευση.
Όμως, ο Τόμας Μαν, σε αυτή την υπέροχη ιστορία, φροντίζει από νωρίς να στείλει τα μαύρα κοράκια να μηνύσουν τον αναγνώστη για το κακό που καιροφυλακτεί. Οι μαύρες λακαρισμένες γόνδολες και οι σκοτεινές μορφές των γονδολιέρηδων σκίζουν τα κανάλια σαν φέρετρα επανδρωμένα με δημίους. Το ελώδες, υγρό σκηνικό, εκεί όπου μπορεί να ευδοκιμήσει η αρρώστια, γίνεται ταυτόχρονα το ιδανικό μέσο για να γεννηθεί και να πολλαπλασιαστεί η νοητική παραζάλη, η μεγαλύτερη πλάνη όλων, ο έρωτας.
Η λογική και η σοβαρότητα υποτάσσεται, γονατίζει μπροστά σε ένα φρέσκο, δυνατό συναίσθημα. Ο γέρος σοφός Άσενμπαχ υποκλίνεται μπροστά στην ομορφιά που θαρρείς αποστάζεται μπροστά στα μάτια του, και γέρνει προς αυτήν όπως το λουλούδι που κλίνει προς τον ζωοδότη ήλιο για να αντλήσει τα μέγιστα από αυτόν. Ο νους χάνει έδαφος από τη γλώσσα του συναισθήματος που γλείφει λάγνα την περιοχή -ποιος μπορεί να αντισταθεί στην ομορφιά; Ακόμα και ο πιο αξιοπρεπής, ο λογικότερος όλων, δελεάζεται και χαλαρώνει τον χαλινό της αυτοσυγκράτησης που τον χαρακτηρίζει, για να αφεθεί έμπλεος από την πρωτόλεια συγκίνηση που τον περιζώνει. Ο ηθικός νόμος της αξιοπρέπειας υποχωρεί, γίνεται κομματάκια· ο έρωτας και η σαγήνη, άμετρα καθώς είναι, κατά τη μετωπική σύγκρουση μαζί τους, σαρώνουν μέσα σε έναν εσωτερικό ανεμοστρόβιλο κάθε ίχνος λογικής που επιμελώς φροντίζεται, με συνέπεια χτίζεται και ανελλιπώς στιλβώνεται από τον πειθαρχημένο και συγκροτημένο νου. Και κάπως έτσι, η ομορφιά, ο έρωτας, η φυσικότητα, ο αυθορμητισμός γίνονται τελικά η καταδίκη που οδηγεί στον θάνατο.
«Γιατί πρέπει να ξέρεις πως εμείς οι ποιητές δεν μπορούμε να ακολουθήσουμε το δρόμο της ομορφιάς χωρίς τον Έρωτα σύντροφο κι οδηγό μας· ναι, ακόμη κι αν, με τον δικό μας τρόπο, είμαστε ήρωες και πειθαρχημένοι πολεμιστές στην τέχνη ας, πάλι είμαστε σαν τις γυναίκες, γιατί ανάταση στην ψυχή μας φέρνει μονάχα το πάθος, και βαθιά μας επιθυμία μένει πάντα η αγάπη -αυτή είναι η απόλαυσή μας και η ντροπή μας. Καταλαβαίνεις μήπως τώρα ότι εμείς οι ποιητές δεν μπορούμε να είμαστε ούτε σοφοί ούτε αξιοπρεπείς; Πως η παραπλάνησή μας είναι μοιραία, πως αναγκαστικά παραμένουμε ακόλαστοι τυχοδιώκτες του συναισθήματος;»
Μέχρι ένα σημείο απλώς διάβαζα. Από ένα σημείο και μετά, έφαγα το δόλωμα, δάγκωσα το αγκίστρι της αφηγηματικής τέχνης του Τόμας Μαν, παγιδεύτηκα στην ελεγεία του κάλλους που έχει υφάνει· κι έμεινα να απολαμβάνω, πλανημένη και εγώ, από τον αυθορμητισμό και την ορμή του συναισθήματος.
Η ομορφιά θα σώσει τον κόσμο. Αλλά και θα τον κάψει, χωρίς διαπραγμάτευση.
May 28, 2020
کتاب مرگ در ونیز اثر توماس مان ، کتابی ایست سرشار از ایهام ، نماد و اسطوره ، اثری تکان دهنده و پر رمز و راز که با قلم کمی خشک اما بسیار لطیف استاد نگارش شده است .
خطر فاش شدن داستان
بدون شک شمایلی که استاد از آشنباخ نویسنده آلمانی اوایل قرن بیستم آفریده است فراموش ناشدنی ایست ، یک آلمانی کلاسیک با همان دقت و پشتکار ، انسانی منظم که عمری برنامه کاری روتین خود را داشته حالا قصد دارد که به خود استراحتی دهد و به ونیز جادویی برود ، که شاید این استراحت کمی از خستگی روحی او کم کند ، او با کشتی به ونیز می رود ، کشتی با پرچم ایتالیا ، اما کهنه ، زنگار گرفته و غم آلود
سفر برای او به منزله تغییر است ، به معنای حرکت و جنبش ، خارج شدن از سکونی که به آن گرفتار شده است . در ونیز است که او را می بیند ، تحسینش می کند ، به او عادت می کند ، گرفتارش می شود عاشق و شیدای او.
توماس مان خواننده را شوکه کرده ، قهرمان سالخورده داستان او مانند شیخ صنعان عاشق دختری جوان نشده است ، معشوق او پسر نوجوانی ایست زیبا که عواطف آشنباخ را بر انگیخته .
زندگی آشنباخ دیگر عوض شده ، او هر روز به آرزوی دیدن پسرک به ساحل می رود ، تا او را بیابد و ببیند ، دلش گرفتار حال عجیبی ایست :
گر ز حال دل خبر داری بگو
ور نشانی مختصر داری بگو
لطافت قلم نویسنده هنگامی که پسرک لهستانی به آشنباخ مجنون شده لبخند می زند به اوج می رسد :
این لبخند نرگس بود که بر آینه ی آب خم می شود ، لبخند هوش ربا و شیفته نرگس وقتی که دست پیش می برد تا بازتاب زیبایی خویشتن را در آغوش بگیرد ، آن هم با پریشانی کم و بیش از بیهودگی قصدش در بوسه زدن بر لب های دلاویز پس تاب خود ، و با وجود این ، مغازله جو ، کنجکاو و با خود در کلنجار ، سِحر زده و سحر انگیز
آشنباخ در راه این عشق عجیب شهره خاص و عام شده ، راز او را همگان می دانند و شاید بر این پیرمرد عاشق اندکی دلسوزی هم می کنند ،در این میان در ونیز گرم ، بیماری وبا هم شیوع پیدا می کند ، در رفتاری مشابه امروز ، مقامات به خاطر کسب در آمد از توریستها وجود بیماری را انکار می کنند ، پیرمرد در دوراهی مرگ و زندگی ، عقل یا عشق تصمیم می گیرد در ونیز وبا زده بماند ،بیماری گسترش می یابد و کم کم مرگ به نزدیکی آشنباخ می رسد ، روزی که معشوق عازم وطن خود است مرگ آشنباخ را فرا می گیرد ، در حالی که نگاهش به سمت پسرک است :
مرگ را دانم ولی تا کوی دوست
راه اگر نزدیکتر داری بگو
استاد با نثر نسبتا پیچیده ای داستان را روایت کرده اما دشوار بودن نثر خود به زیبایی اثر اضافه کرده است ، به همین ترتیب از انبوهی از اسطوره ها و نمادها استفاده کرده که مترجم کتاب می توانست اندکی آنان را توضیح دهد . علاوه بر نمادها ، آقای مان چندین بار افرادی شر به سراغ آشنباخ می فرستد که به او هشدار دهند که مرگ در این سرزمین به انتظار او نشسته است . عشقی که توماس مان توصیف کرده عشق افلاطونی ایست اما شاید به گونه ای آنرا بتوان انحراف هم دانست .
شاید بتوان آشنباخ را فردی در نظر گرفت که فقط عاشق زیبایی شده و برای او مهم نیست این زیبایی و کمال از آن پسری لهستانی باشد یا کس دیگری ، عشق نظاره گر , عشق توصیفی که عاشق فقط می خواهد معشوق را ببیند و توصیف کند ، نه عشقی سلطه گر و در آرزوی رسیدن به او .....
خطر فاش شدن داستان
بدون شک شمایلی که استاد از آشنباخ نویسنده آلمانی اوایل قرن بیستم آفریده است فراموش ناشدنی ایست ، یک آلمانی کلاسیک با همان دقت و پشتکار ، انسانی منظم که عمری برنامه کاری روتین خود را داشته حالا قصد دارد که به خود استراحتی دهد و به ونیز جادویی برود ، که شاید این استراحت کمی از خستگی روحی او کم کند ، او با کشتی به ونیز می رود ، کشتی با پرچم ایتالیا ، اما کهنه ، زنگار گرفته و غم آلود
سفر برای او به منزله تغییر است ، به معنای حرکت و جنبش ، خارج شدن از سکونی که به آن گرفتار شده است . در ونیز است که او را می بیند ، تحسینش می کند ، به او عادت می کند ، گرفتارش می شود عاشق و شیدای او.
توماس مان خواننده را شوکه کرده ، قهرمان سالخورده داستان او مانند شیخ صنعان عاشق دختری جوان نشده است ، معشوق او پسر نوجوانی ایست زیبا که عواطف آشنباخ را بر انگیخته .
زندگی آشنباخ دیگر عوض شده ، او هر روز به آرزوی دیدن پسرک به ساحل می رود ، تا او را بیابد و ببیند ، دلش گرفتار حال عجیبی ایست :
گر ز حال دل خبر داری بگو
ور نشانی مختصر داری بگو
لطافت قلم نویسنده هنگامی که پسرک لهستانی به آشنباخ مجنون شده لبخند می زند به اوج می رسد :
این لبخند نرگس بود که بر آینه ی آب خم می شود ، لبخند هوش ربا و شیفته نرگس وقتی که دست پیش می برد تا بازتاب زیبایی خویشتن را در آغوش بگیرد ، آن هم با پریشانی کم و بیش از بیهودگی قصدش در بوسه زدن بر لب های دلاویز پس تاب خود ، و با وجود این ، مغازله جو ، کنجکاو و با خود در کلنجار ، سِحر زده و سحر انگیز
آشنباخ در راه این عشق عجیب شهره خاص و عام شده ، راز او را همگان می دانند و شاید بر این پیرمرد عاشق اندکی دلسوزی هم می کنند ،در این میان در ونیز گرم ، بیماری وبا هم شیوع پیدا می کند ، در رفتاری مشابه امروز ، مقامات به خاطر کسب در آمد از توریستها وجود بیماری را انکار می کنند ، پیرمرد در دوراهی مرگ و زندگی ، عقل یا عشق تصمیم می گیرد در ونیز وبا زده بماند ،بیماری گسترش می یابد و کم کم مرگ به نزدیکی آشنباخ می رسد ، روزی که معشوق عازم وطن خود است مرگ آشنباخ را فرا می گیرد ، در حالی که نگاهش به سمت پسرک است :
مرگ را دانم ولی تا کوی دوست
راه اگر نزدیکتر داری بگو
استاد با نثر نسبتا پیچیده ای داستان را روایت کرده اما دشوار بودن نثر خود به زیبایی اثر اضافه کرده است ، به همین ترتیب از انبوهی از اسطوره ها و نمادها استفاده کرده که مترجم کتاب می توانست اندکی آنان را توضیح دهد . علاوه بر نمادها ، آقای مان چندین بار افرادی شر به سراغ آشنباخ می فرستد که به او هشدار دهند که مرگ در این سرزمین به انتظار او نشسته است . عشقی که توماس مان توصیف کرده عشق افلاطونی ایست اما شاید به گونه ای آنرا بتوان انحراف هم دانست .
شاید بتوان آشنباخ را فردی در نظر گرفت که فقط عاشق زیبایی شده و برای او مهم نیست این زیبایی و کمال از آن پسری لهستانی باشد یا کس دیگری ، عشق نظاره گر , عشق توصیفی که عاشق فقط می خواهد معشوق را ببیند و توصیف کند ، نه عشقی سلطه گر و در آرزوی رسیدن به او .....
March 31, 2024
My literary relationship with Thomas Mann was a strained one. I have read his Buddenbrooks and The Magic Mountain, and while I appreciate his excellence as an author, I didn't truly enjoy them. I always felt a distance from him. Then I read the letters, exchanged between him and Hermann Hesse, and got a better understanding of the man inside the author. Maybe that was the turning point, but The Death in Venice presented quite a different side of Mann to me. If I say I was mesmerized by the beautiful prose with which he wrote this tragic story, I'm not exaggerating.
Death in Venice is about an acclaimed middle-aged writer who succumbs to passion later in life. Gustav von Aschenbach is a prolific writer whose life is devoted to discipline, reason, and art. He is an ascetic who lives a rigid life as dictated by convention. He is successful and content. Yet now in his fifties, the monotonous workaholic life is weighing upon him, and he decides to take a vacation. After visiting a few unsatisfactory destinations, he arrives in Venice, where unknown to him a tragic adventure of passion awaits him. This disciplined and rational man falls in love with a fourteen-year-old adolescent boy thus unleashing a passion that he cannot suppress, and by which he risks his life and embraces death.
The story is a beautifully written tragedy. The same-sex love that centered the story makes this novel part of the canon of gay literature. Yet, at no point does Mann resort to any erotic form or action to describe Aschenbach's infatuation with the young boy. Rather, he falls back to Greek mythology and the relationship between Socrates and Phaedrus to communicate to the reader the strength of the passion of the middle-aged writer to this beautiful young boy. Mann's choice of presenting the deeper feelings of Aschenbach in this manner captivated me. I was drowned in his words as he painted the inner torrent of the passion of this mature man: "He was drunk in both head and heart, and his steps followed the dictates of the demon whose delight it is to trample human reason and dignity underfoot". Mann has written his character well that I didn't find his actions ludicrous; I felt them human no matter how blind his actions were.
Mann's writing came as a huge surprise to me. I never considered his writing to be beautiful; powerful and meaningful certainly, but beautiful was not an adjective with which I would have described his writing. Mann amazed me with the weaving of his words and demonstrating that he is in every way an excellent wordsmith. The emotions and actions of the protagonist are brilliantly captured through his wordplay:"But at that very moment he felt the casual greeting fade and vanish before the truth of his heart, he felt the rapture of his blood, the joy and agony of his soul, and acknowledged to himself that it was Tadzio who had made it so hard for him to leave." The aged writer's first acknowledgment to self that he was attracted to the boy is described thus, and he goes on to add: "He sat there perfectly still, perfectly invisible on his lofty perch, gazing within himself. His features were keen, his eyebrows high, his lips drawn into a vigilant, inquisitively intelligent smile. Then he raised his head and with both arms, which had been hanging limply over the back of his chair, made a slow, rising, circular motion that brought the hands forward in such a way as to indicate an opening and spreading of the arms", demonstrating the complete surrender of the older man to the feeling of unconventional love towards a boy. Mann portrays the newborn love of the writer, adding a touch of the decadence of Venice thus symbolising the moral failure of the writer: "The incense billowing up and clouding the feeble flames of the altar tapers, and the sweet and stuffy sacrificial odor seemed to mingle with another: the odor of the diseased city. But through the haze and flicker, Aschenbach would see the beautiful boy turn his head, seek him out, and sight him."
It is stated that Thomas Mann wrote this novella to demonstrate the tragic consequences that moral decadence and deviation from self-discipline and failure to suppress emotions would bring about. These were the conventional standards that judged the middle-class European society at Mann's time. This may be true and I won't argue the point. However, the descriptive beauty of human emotions at the new turn of events in the aged writer's life said a different story to me: a story of being bold enough to follow one's heart at the risk of being ridiculed, at risk of putting his life in jeopardy, to earn peace of mind, happiness, and emotional contentment.
This is the first Mann work that I truly and unreservedly enjoyed. It was simply a pleasure to indulge in Mann's words as he took me through his protagonist's emotionally fulfilling tragic journey. After reading his Buddenbrooks and The Magic Mountain, I felt I couldn't connect with Mann's work; there was somehow a distance between his stories and me. But Death in Venice reversed that feeling. I'm so glad that I decided to try one more of his works. The daring rewarded me amply.
More of my reviews can be found at http://piyangiejay.com/
Death in Venice is about an acclaimed middle-aged writer who succumbs to passion later in life. Gustav von Aschenbach is a prolific writer whose life is devoted to discipline, reason, and art. He is an ascetic who lives a rigid life as dictated by convention. He is successful and content. Yet now in his fifties, the monotonous workaholic life is weighing upon him, and he decides to take a vacation. After visiting a few unsatisfactory destinations, he arrives in Venice, where unknown to him a tragic adventure of passion awaits him. This disciplined and rational man falls in love with a fourteen-year-old adolescent boy thus unleashing a passion that he cannot suppress, and by which he risks his life and embraces death.
The story is a beautifully written tragedy. The same-sex love that centered the story makes this novel part of the canon of gay literature. Yet, at no point does Mann resort to any erotic form or action to describe Aschenbach's infatuation with the young boy. Rather, he falls back to Greek mythology and the relationship between Socrates and Phaedrus to communicate to the reader the strength of the passion of the middle-aged writer to this beautiful young boy. Mann's choice of presenting the deeper feelings of Aschenbach in this manner captivated me. I was drowned in his words as he painted the inner torrent of the passion of this mature man: "He was drunk in both head and heart, and his steps followed the dictates of the demon whose delight it is to trample human reason and dignity underfoot". Mann has written his character well that I didn't find his actions ludicrous; I felt them human no matter how blind his actions were.
Mann's writing came as a huge surprise to me. I never considered his writing to be beautiful; powerful and meaningful certainly, but beautiful was not an adjective with which I would have described his writing. Mann amazed me with the weaving of his words and demonstrating that he is in every way an excellent wordsmith. The emotions and actions of the protagonist are brilliantly captured through his wordplay:"But at that very moment he felt the casual greeting fade and vanish before the truth of his heart, he felt the rapture of his blood, the joy and agony of his soul, and acknowledged to himself that it was Tadzio who had made it so hard for him to leave." The aged writer's first acknowledgment to self that he was attracted to the boy is described thus, and he goes on to add: "He sat there perfectly still, perfectly invisible on his lofty perch, gazing within himself. His features were keen, his eyebrows high, his lips drawn into a vigilant, inquisitively intelligent smile. Then he raised his head and with both arms, which had been hanging limply over the back of his chair, made a slow, rising, circular motion that brought the hands forward in such a way as to indicate an opening and spreading of the arms", demonstrating the complete surrender of the older man to the feeling of unconventional love towards a boy. Mann portrays the newborn love of the writer, adding a touch of the decadence of Venice thus symbolising the moral failure of the writer: "The incense billowing up and clouding the feeble flames of the altar tapers, and the sweet and stuffy sacrificial odor seemed to mingle with another: the odor of the diseased city. But through the haze and flicker, Aschenbach would see the beautiful boy turn his head, seek him out, and sight him."
It is stated that Thomas Mann wrote this novella to demonstrate the tragic consequences that moral decadence and deviation from self-discipline and failure to suppress emotions would bring about. These were the conventional standards that judged the middle-class European society at Mann's time. This may be true and I won't argue the point. However, the descriptive beauty of human emotions at the new turn of events in the aged writer's life said a different story to me: a story of being bold enough to follow one's heart at the risk of being ridiculed, at risk of putting his life in jeopardy, to earn peace of mind, happiness, and emotional contentment.
This is the first Mann work that I truly and unreservedly enjoyed. It was simply a pleasure to indulge in Mann's words as he took me through his protagonist's emotionally fulfilling tragic journey. After reading his Buddenbrooks and The Magic Mountain, I felt I couldn't connect with Mann's work; there was somehow a distance between his stories and me. But Death in Venice reversed that feeling. I'm so glad that I decided to try one more of his works. The daring rewarded me amply.
More of my reviews can be found at http://piyangiejay.com/
August 19, 2023
"At an age when others are spendthrift daydreamers, blithely postponing the execution of great plans- he began his day early with a jet of cold water at his chest and back, and then a pair of tall wax candles in silver sticks shining over his manuscript.."
This man was ready to sacrifice on the altar of art, the strength he had garnered from his sleep. This is his story.
There was such burnished prose that I was slithering upon from the first page. I learned after finishing the book that in German this book was written in a very complex manner, using many rare words, creating paradoxical juxtapositions of terms and a literal translation of the prose into English could look like gibberish, but I am telling you the one that I read was extraordinarily translated, I felt surreal at some places!
I thought of reading this book suddenly in the morning yesterday when my country was celebrating its independence day, we unfurled the tricolor at our place and then distributed sweets, a chiffon cake along with whipped cream! Though most of it melted by the time I brought it back to my room from the place we were celebrating, still it was delicious!
So the book was picked up, out of nowhere, I was reading a chapter featuring that racecourse scene in' Anna Karenina last night, and here this morning I met this man Gustav Aschenbach, who left his apartment in Munich, overstrained by his difficult morning hour, to walk alone, in a hope that fresh air will restore him for his evening work. There he meets a strange red-haired man, he is a foreigner and after seeing this strange man he is now so eager to travel!
Gustav Aschenbach got early fame, he is a writer, a poet of overburdened and already worn out. He lived in Munich as an honored bourgeois. To quench the thirst of his travel, He goes to Adriatic Island and then to Venice.
In Venice, ‘in a gondola perhaps’, in a hotel, he meets a boy, 14 years old, Tadzio, along with his family, and the charm of this young boy enchants him, You should know that Gustav is fifty years old.
Now.
What do you want me to write about?
No, this book was not like that.
When I started reading it I thought it would be a mystery. Death in Venice and then a search for the culprit! But no! It turned out to be an extremely different thing. This turned out to be a tale of obsession. An old man is obsessed with a young boy. But you must notice that neither this man touched this boy nor ever talked to him throughout the plot, so anything that you are thinking must be thrown away from your head at once!
The story was an extreme case study of a human passion, maybe infatuation, or idée fixe, haven't you heard this term, something of that sort!
Was this obsession about an intellectual satisfaction of a poet or was it a sensual fantasy of an old mind? Was his observation of a young boy about beauty, about God, spiritual or purely for senses? Was this a disgraced subterfuge? A trickery played by the author Or just the vigorous curves of his emotions!
What failed this old man to do what he wanted to do?
His self-esteem, his maturity, his conscience, or his late-won simplicity?
Or was it his weakness?
This was a tale of obsession, what an obsession, this man had perhaps a bee in his bonnet, a Bee of artistic pleasure or spiritual salvation, or of moral weakness!
But boy! Whatever it was, it was an extraordinary reading experience for me, I read Thomas Mann for the first time. Very Impressive! In some places the prose was so lyrical that if you read it aloud you will feel yourself in a dream on a stage and when you wake up, you will find yourself: - enervated, shaken, powerless!
June 22, 2023
After all, we are only as old as we feel in our minds and hearts.
He has the urge to flee…he yearns for freedom. He needs a change of scene.
But where is the journey taking him? Will this interval of respite soothe his nerves? Will he find his true self?
Art is life intensified.
Will this rational and self-disciplined man hold on to his constrained and limited life or would he succumb to passion and beauty… to nature?
He has the urge to flee…he yearns for freedom. He needs a change of scene.
But where is the journey taking him? Will this interval of respite soothe his nerves? Will he find his true self?
Art is life intensified.
Will this rational and self-disciplined man hold on to his constrained and limited life or would he succumb to passion and beauty… to nature?
September 30, 2017
On one spring afternoon Gustav Aschenbach, or Von Aschenbach as he had officially been known since his 50th birthday, sets out from his apartment in Munich. Writing had overstimulated him and he needs clarity. As with many German intellects of the early 20th century, his mind had been feasting on the classicism of his surroundings, when he came across a displeasing red-haired man. A strange emotion stirred within him, an emotion he pondered on before he later identified it as a desire to travel. He had been too preoccupied with the duties imposed on him by the collective European psyche. He needed change, so heads to Venice.
Venice was not enshrined in sun when the ferry docked, a disturbing insult to his aesthetics, and Aschenbach's mood was not improved when a contumacious, red-haired gondolier imposed his services on him. Quite naturally his thoughts turned to death. And death really pays as the main theme here, He disembarked at the Hotel on the Lido and was reassured to hear the sounds of all the major world languages. And Polish. As he was waiting for dinner he spotted three austere, expressionless girls with their extremely beautiful 14-year-old brother. He went to sleep in a transport of delight and entered a dreamland where he was a great deal more active than he ever was awake.
Aschenbach would spend the rest of his stay, studying with passionate observations, the boy, Tadzio, in all his god-like physique, he is fascinated by the boy's dashing good looks, watching on in a state of euphoria, while a calm washes over him. He has never felt so in love.
But by his forth week's stay, rumours are circulating there is sickness in the city, he doesn't want to leave. He starts to follow Tadzio more openly, he learned there was a cholera epidemic but still he could not bring himself to tell Tadzio's mother, but can't tear away from his burning infatuation. He started to feel ghastly on the beach whilst gazing across the sand at Tadzio, Was he beckoning him?. Crushed by the weight of the symbolism, he wouldn't rise again.
This by Novella standards is quite rightly regarded as a classic of German literature, reading the second time around didn't strike me as much as the first, so have knocked a star of my rating,
but it's very well written, and I don't understand the criticism, but then no one book is going to please everybody. 4/5
Venice was not enshrined in sun when the ferry docked, a disturbing insult to his aesthetics, and Aschenbach's mood was not improved when a contumacious, red-haired gondolier imposed his services on him. Quite naturally his thoughts turned to death. And death really pays as the main theme here, He disembarked at the Hotel on the Lido and was reassured to hear the sounds of all the major world languages. And Polish. As he was waiting for dinner he spotted three austere, expressionless girls with their extremely beautiful 14-year-old brother. He went to sleep in a transport of delight and entered a dreamland where he was a great deal more active than he ever was awake.
Aschenbach would spend the rest of his stay, studying with passionate observations, the boy, Tadzio, in all his god-like physique, he is fascinated by the boy's dashing good looks, watching on in a state of euphoria, while a calm washes over him. He has never felt so in love.
But by his forth week's stay, rumours are circulating there is sickness in the city, he doesn't want to leave. He starts to follow Tadzio more openly, he learned there was a cholera epidemic but still he could not bring himself to tell Tadzio's mother, but can't tear away from his burning infatuation. He started to feel ghastly on the beach whilst gazing across the sand at Tadzio, Was he beckoning him?. Crushed by the weight of the symbolism, he wouldn't rise again.
This by Novella standards is quite rightly regarded as a classic of German literature, reading the second time around didn't strike me as much as the first, so have knocked a star of my rating,
but it's very well written, and I don't understand the criticism, but then no one book is going to please everybody. 4/5
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