menu_book Chapter 6

Section 6 of Beethoven, The Man and the Artist, as revealed in his own words, by Ludwig von Beethoven, translated by Henry Edward Crabiel and Friedrich Kerst. This Lieberbach's recording is in the public domain. On his own disposition and character. The Sufferer. On his own disposition and character.

So open-hearted and straightforward a character as Beethoven could not have pictured himself with less reserve or greater truthfulness than he did during his life. Frankness toward himself, frankness toward others, though sometimes it went to the extreme rudeness and ill-breeding, was his motto. The joyous nature which was his as a lad and which was not at all averse to a merry prank now and then underwent a change when he began to lose his hearing. The dread of deafness and its consequences drove him nearly to despair so that he sometimes contemplated suicide. Increasing hardness of hearing gradually made him reserved, morose and gloomy.

With the progress of the malady, his disposition and character underwent a decided change, a fact which may be said to account for the contradictions in his conduct and utterances. It made him suspicious, distrustful. In his later years, he imagined himself cheated and deceived in the most trifling matters by relatives, friends, publishers, servants. Nevertheless, Beethoven's whole soul was filled with the high idealism which penetrated through the miseries of his daily life. It was full, too, of a great love toward humanity in general and his unworthy nephew in particular.

Towards his publishers, he often appeared covetous and grasping, seeking to rake and scrape together all the money possible. But this was only for the purpose of assuring the future of his nephew. At the same time, in a merry moment, he would load down his table with all that kitchen and cellar could provide for the reflection of his friends. Thus he oscillated continuously between two extremes, but the power which swung the pendulum was always the aural malady. He grew peabish and capricious towards his best friends, rude, even brutal at times in his treatment of them, only in the next moment to overwhelm them most pathetically with attentions.

Till the end of his life, he remained a sufferer from his passionate disposition over which he gradually obtained control until, at the end, one could almost speak of a sunny clarification of his nature. He has heedlessly been accused of having led a dissolute life, of having been an intemperate drinker. There would be no necessity of contradicting such a charge, even if there were a scintilla of evidence to support it. A drinker is not necessarily a dishonorable man, least of all a musician who drinks. But the fact of the matter is that it is not true.

If once Beethoven wrote a merry note about merrymaking with friends, let us rejoice that occasions did sometimes occur, though but rarely, when the heart of the sufferer was temporarily gladdened. He was a strict moralist, as is particularly evidenced by the notes in his journal, which have not been made public. In many things which befell him in his daily life, he was as ingenuous as a child. His personality, on the whole, presented itself in such a manner as to invite the intellectual and social Philistine to call him a fool. 160.

I shall print a request in all the newspapers that henceforth all artists refrain from painting my picture without my knowledge. I never thought that my own face would bring me embarrassment. About 1803 to Christine Girardi, because without his knowledge a portrait of him had been made somewhere in a cafe, probably. 161. Pity that I do not understand the art of war as well as I do the art of music.

I should yet conquer Napoleon to Krumpholz, the violinist, when he informed Beethoven of the victory of Napoleon and Jena. 162. If I were in general and knew as much about strategy as I, a composer, know about counterpoint, I'd give you fellows something to do. Called out behind the back of a French officer. His fist doubled on May 12th, 1809, when the French had occupied Vienna.

Reported by a witness, W. Roost. 163. Camillus, if I am not mistaken, was the name of the Roman who drove the wicked Gauls from Rome. At such a cost, I would also take the name if I could drive them wherever I found them to where they belong. To Pléel, publisher, in Paris, April 1807.

164. I love most the realm of mind which to me is the highest of all spiritual and temporal monarchies. To Advocate Kauka in the summer of 1814. He had been speaking about the monarchs represented in the Congress of Vienna. 165.

I shall not come in person since that would be a sort of farewell, and farewells I have always avoided. January 24th, 1818, to Ginestacio del Rio on taking his nephew Carl out of the latter institute. 166. I hope still to bring a few large works into the world and then, like an old child, to end my earthly career somewhere among good people. October 6th, 1802, to Wegler.

167. O ye men who think or declare me to be hostile or rose or misanthropical, what injustice ye do me. Ye know not the secret cause of what thus appears to you. My heart and mind were from childhood disposed for the tender feelings of benevolence. I was always wishing to accomplish great deeds.

October 6th, 1802, in the so-called Heiligenstadt will. 168. Divinity, thou lookest into my heart, thou knowest it, thou knowest that love for mankind and a desire to do good have their abode there. O ye men, when one day ye read this, think that ye have wronged me, and may the unfortunate console himself with the thought that he has found one of his kind who, despite all the obstacles which nature put in his path, yet did all in his power to be accepted in the ranks of worthy artists and men, from the Heiligenstadt will.

169. I spent all my mornings with the Muses, and they blessed me also in my walks. October 12th, 1835, to his nephew Carl. 170. Concerning myself nothing, that is, from nothing nothing.

October 19th, 1815, to Countess Erdotti. A possible allusion to the line, nothing can come of nothing, from Shakespeare's King Lear, Act I, Scene I. 171. Beethoven can write, thank God, but do nothing else on earth. December 22nd, 1822, to Ferdinand Rees, in London.

172. Mentally I often frame an answer, but when I come to write it down, I generally throw the pen aside, since I am not able to write what I feel. October 7th, 1826, to his friend Weggler, in Koblenz. The better sort of people, I think, know me anyhow. He is excusing his laziness in letter writing.

173. I have the gift to conceal my sensitiveness touching a multitude of things, but when I am provoked at a moment when I am more sensitive than usual. Too, anger, I burst out more violently than anybody else. July 24th, 1804, to Rees, in reporting to him a quarrel with Stefan von Breinen. 174.

X is completely changed, since I threw half a dozen books at her head, perhaps something of their contents accidentally got into her head or her wicked heart. To Madame Stryker, who often had to put Beethoven's house in order. 175. I can have no intercourse and do not want to have any, with persons who are not willing to believe in me, because I have not yet made a wide reputation.

To Prince Lobkowitz, about 1798, a cavalier had failed to show him proper respect in the Princess Salon. 176. Many a vigorous and unconsidered word drops from my mouth, for which reason I am considered mad. In the summer of 1880, to Dr. Mueller of Bremen, who was paying him a visit. 177.

I will grapple with fate. It shall not quite bear me down. Oh, it is lovely to live life a thousand times. November 16, 1800 or 1801, to Wendler. 178.

Morality is the strength of men who distinguish themselves over others, and it is mine, in a communication to his friend Baron Zemskow. 179. I, too, am a king. Said to Holtz, when the latter begged him not to sell the ring which King Frederick William III of Prussia had sent to him instead of money or an order in return for the dedication of the Ninth Symphony. Master, keep the ring, Holtz had said.

It is from a king. Beethoven made his remark with indescribable dignity and self-consciousness. On his deathbed, he said to little Gerhard von Breunin, know that I am an artist. At the height of the popular infatuation for Rossini, 1822, he said to his friends, well, they will not be able to rob me of my place in the history of art. 180.

Prince, what you are, you are by accident of birth. What I am, I am through my own efforts. There have been thousands of princes and will be thousands more. There is only one Beethoven. According to tradition from a letter which he wrote to Prince Likvnowski, when the latter attempted to persuade him to play for some French officers on his estate in Silesia,

Beethoven went at night to Tropole carrying the manuscript of the so-called Pashanata Sonata which suffered from the rain. 181. My nobility is here and here pointing to his heart and head. Reported by Schindler, in the lawsuit against his sister-in-law, the mother of nephew Carl, Beethoven had been called on to prove that the van in his name was a badge of nobility.

182. You write that somebody has said that I am the natural son of the late king of Prussia. The same thing was said to me long ago, but I have made it a rule never to write anything about myself or answer anything that is said about me. October 7, 1826. To Weggler.

I leave it to you to give the world an account of myself and especially my mother. The statement had appeared in Brockhaus's Lexicon. 183. To me the highest thing after God is my honor. July 26, 1822.

To the publisher Peters in Leipzig. 184. I have never thought of writing for reputation and honor. What I have in my heart must out. That is the reason why I compose.

Remark to Carl Czerny, reported in his autobiography. 185. I do not desire that you shall esteem me greater as an artist, but better and more perfect as a man. When the condition of our country is somewhat better, then my art shall be devoted to the welfare of the poor. Vienna, June 29, 1800.

To Weggler in Bonn, writing of his return to his native land. 186. Perhaps the only thing that looks like genius about me is that my affairs are not always in the best of order. In that, in this respect, nobody can be of help but myself. April 22, 1801.

To Hofmeister in Leipzig. Excusing himself for dilatorinous and sending him these compositions. The Piano Forte Sonata, Op. 22. The Symphony, Op. 21. The Septet, Op. 20.

And the Concerto, Op. 19. 187. I am free from all small vanities. Only in the divine art is the lever which gives me power to sacrifice the best part of my life to the celestial muses. September 9, 1824.

To George Nageli in Zurich. 188. Inasmuch as the purpose of the undersigned throughout his career has not been selfish, but the promotion of the interests of art, the elevation of popular taste, and the flight of his own genius toward loftier ideals and perfection, it was inevitable that he should frequently sacrifice his own advantages and profit to the muse.

December 1804. To the director of the Court Theatre, applying for an engagement which was never affected. 189. From my earliest childhood, my zeal to serve suffering humanity with my art was never content with any kind of a subterfuge, and no other reward is needed than the internal satisfaction which always accompanies such a deed.

To procurator Verena, who had asked him for compositions to be played at a charity concert in Graz. 190. There is no greater pleasure for me than to practice and exhibit my art. November 16, 1800 or 1801. To Weggler.

191. I recognize no other accomplishments or advantages than those which place one amongst the better class of men, where I find them there is my home. Teplitz, July 17, 1812. To his little admirer Emily. M in H.

192. From childhood I learned to love virtue and everything beautiful and good. About 1808. To Froul Marie Beagle. 193.

It is one of my foremost principles never to occupy any other relations than those of friendship with the wife of another man. I should never want to fill my heart with distrust towards those who may chance some day to share my fate with me, and thus destroy the loveliest and purest life for myself. About 1808. To Froul Marie Beagle.

After she had declined his invitation to drive with him. 194. In my solitude here I miss my roommate, at least at evening and noon, when the human animal is obliged to assimilate that which is necessary to the production of the intellectual, and which I prefer to do in company with another. Teplitz, September 6, 1811.

To Tiege. 195. It was not intentional and premeditated malice which led me to act towards you as I did. It was my unpardonable carelessness to Vegler. 196.

I am not bad. Hot blood is my wickedness. My crime is youthfulness. I am not bad. Really not bad.

Even though wild surges often accuse my heart, it still is good. To do good wherever we can. To love liberty above all things. And never to deny truth, though it be at the throne itself. Think occasionally of the friend who honors you.

Written in the autographed album of a Hare Buck. 197. It is a singular sensation to see and hear one self praised, and then to be conscious of one's own imperfections as I am. I always regard such occasions as admonitions to get nearer the unattainable goal set for us by art and nature, hard as it may be.

To Mademoiselle de Girardi, who had sung his praises in a poem. 198. It is my sincere desire that whatever shall be said of me hereafter shall adhere strictly to the truth in every respect, regardless of who may be hurt thereby, me not accepted. Reported by Schindler, who also relates that when Beethoven handed him documents to be used in the biography a week before his death,

he said, To him and Brunning, but in all things severely the truth. For that I hold you to a strict accountability. 199. Now you can help me to find a wife. If you find a beautiful woman, an F, who may have endows my music with a sigh,

but she must be no Elise Berger, make a provisional engagement, but she must be beautiful, for I can love only the beautiful, otherwise I might love myself. In 1809, to Baron von Gleitgenstein, as for the personal reference, it seems likely that Beethoven referred to Elise Berger, second wife of the poet G. August Berger, with whom he had got acquainted after she had been divorced and become an elocutionist. 200.

Am I not a true friend? Why do you conceal your necessities from me? No friend of mine must suffer so long as I have anything. To Ferdinand Reis, in 1801. Reis's father had been kind to Beethoven on the death of his mother in 1787.

201. I would rather forget what I owe to myself than what I owe to others. To Frau Streicher, in the summer of 1817. 202. I never practice revenge.

When I must antagonize others, I do more than is necessary to protect myself against them, or prevent them from doing further evil. To Frau Streicher, in reference to the troubles which his servants gave him, many of which, no doubt, were due to faults of his own, excusable in a man in his condition of health. 203. Be convinced that mankind, even in your case, will always be sacred to me.

To Schopka, magisterial counselor, August 1826, in the matter of his nephew's attempt at suicide. 204. H is, and always will be, too weak for friendship, and I look upon him and Y as mere instruments upon which I play when I feel like it. But they can never be witnesses of my internal and external activities, and just as little real participants, I value them according as they do me service.

Summer of 1800. To the friend of his youth, Pastor Amenda. H was probably the faithful Baron Zemskow von De Monowitz. 205. If it amuses them to talk and write about me in that manner, let them go on.

Reported by Schindler as referring to critics who had declared him ripe for the madhouse. 206. To your gentleman critics, I recommend a little more foresight and shrewdness, particularly in respect of the products of younger authors, as many a one who might otherwise make progress may be frightened off. So far as I'm concerned, I am far from thinking myself so perfect as not to be able to endure faulting.

Yet at the beginning, the clamor of your critic was so debasing that I could scarcely discuss the matter when I compared myself with others, but had to remain quiet and think. They do not understand. I was more able to remain quiet when I recalled how men were praised who signify little among those who know, and who have almost disappeared despite their good points.

Well, pox, bobiscum, peace to them and me. I would never have mentioned a syllable had you not begun. April 22nd, 1801 to Breitkopf and Hartel, publishers of the Allgemeine Musikzeitung. 207. Who was happier than I when I could still pronounce the sweet word mother and have it heard?

To whom can I speak it now? September 15th, 1787, from Bonn to Dr. Schade of Augsburg, who had aided him in his return journey from Vienna to Bonn. His mother had died on July 17th, 1787. 208.

I seldom go anywhere since it was always impossible for me to associate with people where there was not a certain exchange of ideas. February 15th, 1817, to Brantano of Frankfurt. 209. Not a word about rest. I know of none except in sleep,

and sorry enough am I that I am obliged to yield up more to it than formally. November 16th, 1801 or 1802, to Wedler. In Homer's Odyssey, Beethoven thickly underscored the words, too much sleep is injurious. 15.

393. 210. Rest assured that you are dealing with two artists who likes to be paid decently. It is true, but who loves his own reputation and also the fame of his art. Who is never satisfied with himself and who strives continually to make even greater progress in his art.

November 23rd, 1809, to George Thompson of Edinburgh, for whom Beethoven arranged the Scotch songs. 211. My motto is always nulla di sine linea, and if I permit the muse to go to sleep, it is only that she may awake strengthened. October 7th, 1826, to Wedler.

212. There is no treatise likely to be too learned for me. Without laying claim to real learning, it is yet true that since my childhood, I have striven to learn the minds of the best and wisest of every period of time. It is a disgrace for every artist who does not try to do as much.

November 2nd, 1809, to Breitkopf and Hertel of Leipzig. 213. Without wishing in the least to set myself up as an exemplar, I assure you that I lived in a small and insignificant place, and made out of myself nearly all that I was there and am here.

This to your comfort in case you feel the need of making progress in art. Baden, July 6th, 1804, to Herr Wiedebine of Brunswick, who had asked if it was advisable for a music teacher and student to make his home in Vienna. 214. There is much on earth to be done. Do it soon.

I must not continue my present everyday life. Art asks this sacrifice also. Take rest in diversion in order to work more energetically. Diary, 1814. 215.

The daily grind exhausts me. August 23rd, 1823, to his nephew Carl. The Sufferer. 216. Compelled to be a philosopher as early as my 28th year,

it is not an easy matter, more difficult for the artist than any other man. October 6th, 1802, the Heiligenstadt will. 217. Compelled to contemplate a lasting malady, born with an ardent and lively temperament,

susceptible to the diversions of society, I was obliged at an early date to isolate myself and live a life of solitude from the same. 218. It was impossible for me to say to others, Speak louder, shout, for I am deaf.

Was it possible for me to proclaim a deficiency in that one sense, which in my case ought to have been more perfect than in all others, which I had once possessed in greatest perfection, to a degree of perfection, indeed, which few of my profession have ever enjoyed.

From the same. 219. For me there can be no recreation in human society, refined conversation, mutual exchange of thoughts and feelings, only so far as necessity compels may I give myself to society.

I must live like an exile. From the same. 220. How great was the humiliation, when one who stood beside me heard the distant sound of a shepherd's pipe,

and I heard nothing, or heard the shepherd singing, and I heard nothing. Such experiences brought me to the verge of despair, but little more and I should have put an end to my life. Art, art alone deterred me.

From the same. 221. I may say that I live a wretched existence. For almost two years I have avoided all social gatherings, because it is impossible for me to tell the people I am deaf.

If my vocation were anything else, it might be more endurable, but under the circumstances the condition is terrible. Besides, what would my enemies say? They are not few in number. To give you an idea of this singular deafness,

let me tell you that in the theatre I must lean over close to the orchestra, in order to understand the actor. If I am a little remote from them, I do not hear the high tones of instruments and voices. It is remarkable that there are persons who have not observed it,

but because I am generally absent-minded, my conduct is ascribed to that. Vienna, June 29, 1800, to Weggler. To you only do I confide this as a secret, concerning his deafness. See appendix.

222. My defective hearing appeared everywhere before me like a ghost. I fled from the presence of men, was obliged to appear to be a misanthrope, although I am so little such.

November 16, 1801, or 1800, to Weggler, in writing to him about his happy love. Unfortunately, she is not of my station in life. 223. Truly a hard lot has befallen me,

yet I accept the decree of fate, and continually pray to God to grant that as long as I must endure this death in life, I may be preserved from want. March 14, 1827, to Moscheles. After Beethoven had undergone the fourth operation for Dropsy,

and was confronting the fifth, he died on March 26, 1827. 224. Live alone in your art, restricted though you be by your defective sense, this is still the only existence for you.

Diary, 1816. 225. Dissatisfied with many things, more susceptible than any other person, and tormented by my deafness,

I often find only suffering in the association with others. In 1815, to Brauchler, tutor in the house of Countess Erdotti. 226. I have emptied a cup of bitter suffering,

and already won martyrdom in art, through the kindness of art's disciples and my art associates. In the summer of 1814, to Advocate Kauka. Socrates and Jesus were my exemplars,

he remarks in a conversation book of 1819. 227. Perfect the ear trumpets as far as possible, and then travel. This you owe to yourself, to mankind, and to the Almighty. Only thus can you develop all that is still locked within you,

and a little court, a little chapel, writing the music and having it performed to the glory of the Almighty, the Eternal, the Infinite. Diary 1815. Beethoven was hoping to receive an appointment as a chapel master,

from his former pupil, Archduke Rudolf, Archbishop of Obutz. 228. God help me, thou seest me deserted by all mankind. I do not want to do wrong.

Hear my prayer to be with my Carl in the future, for which there seems to be no possibility now. O harsh fate, cruel destiny, know my unhappy condition will never end. This I feel and recognize clearly.

Life is not the greatest of blessings, but the greatest of evils is guilt. From Schiller's Brought von Messina. There is no salvation for you, except to hasten away from here. Only by this means can you lift yourself again

to the heights of your art, whereas you are here sinking to the commonplace. In a symphony, and then away, away, meanwhile fund the salaries which can be done for years. Work during the summer, preparatory to travel.

Only thus can you do the great work for your poor nephew. Later, travel through Italy, Sicily, with a few other artists. Diary. Spring of 1817. The salaries were the annuities paid him for several years

by Archduke Rudolf, Prince Rinsky, and Prince Lofkowitz. Summa's Spaziergang nach Syracuse was a favorite book. He was inspired by the great book of Beethoven's and inspired him in a desire to make a similar tour, but nothing came of it.

229. You must not be a man like other men, not for yourself, only for others. For you there is no more happiness except in yourself, in your art.

O God, give me strength to overcome myself. Nothing must hold me to this life. Beginning of the Diary, 1812-1818. 230. You must not be a man like others, and all else alone.

Write only for your orphan, and then a cowl to close this unhappy life. Diary, 1816. 231. I have often cursed my existence.

Plutarch taught me resignation. I shall, if possible, defy fate, though there will be hours in my life when I shall be the most miserable of God's creatures. Resignation.

What a wretched resort, yet it is the only one left me. 239. 1800. To Weggler. 232.

Patience, they tell me. I must now choose for a guide. I have done so. It shall be my resolve. Lastingly, I hope, to endure until it pleases

the implacable parka to break the thread. There may be improvement, perhaps not. I am prepared. From the Heiligenstadt will. 233.

Let all that is called life be offered to the sublime, and become a sanctuary of art. Let me live, even through artificial means, so they can be found. Diary, 1814, when Beethoven was being celebrated

extraordinarily by the royalties and dignitaries gathered at the Congress of Vienna. 234. Ah, it seemed impossible for me to leave the world until I had produced all that I felt called upon to produce,

and so I prolonged this wretched existence. From the Heiligenstadt will. 235. With joy shall I hasten forward to meet death. If he comes before I shall have had an opportunity

to develop all my artistic capabilities, he will come too early, in spite of my harsh fate. And I shall probably wish him to come at a later date. But even then, I shall be content. For will he not release me from endless suffering?

Come when you please. I shall meet you bravely. From the Heiligenstadt will. 236. Apollo and the Muses will not yet permit me

to be delivered over to the grim skeleton, for I owe them so much, and I must, on any departure from the Elysian fields, leave behind me all that the Spirit has inspired and commanded to be finished.

September 17, 1824, to Schott, music publisher in Mayenz. 237. Had I not read somewhere that it is not pending man to part voluntarily from his life, so long as there is a good deed which he can perform,

I should long since have been no more, and by my own hand. O, how beautiful life is, but in my case it is poisoned. May 2, 1810, to his friend Weggler, to whom he is lamenting over the demon that has set up his habitat in my ears.

238. I must abandon wholly the fond hope which I brought hither to be cured at least in a degree. As the fallen autumn leaves have withered, so are now my hopes blighted.

I depart in almost the same condition in which I came. Even the lofty courage which often animated me in the beautiful days of summer has disappeared. From the will, Beethoven had tried the cure at Heiligenstadt. 239.

All week long I had to suffer and endure like a saint, away with this rabble. What a reproach to our civilization that we need what we despise and must always know it near. In 1825, complaining of the misery caused by his domestics.

240. The best thing to do not to think of your malady is to keep occupied. Diary 1812-1818. 241. It is no comfort for men of the better sort to say to them that others also suffer.

But alas, comparisons must always be made, though they only teach that we all suffer, that is, err, only in different ways. In 1816, to countess Erdotti on the death of her son. 242. The portraits of Handel, Bach, Gluck, Mozart and Haydn in my room.

They may help me to make claim on toleration. Diary 1815-1860. 243. God who knows my innermost soul, and knows how sacredly I have fulfilled all the duties,

but upon me as man by humanity. God and nature will surely someday relieve me from these afflictions. July 18, 1821. To Archduke Rudolf, from Unter Ruble. 244.

Friendship and similar sentiments bring only wounds to me. Well, so be it. For you, poor Beethoven, there is no outward happiness. You must create it within you. Only in the world of ideality shall you find friends.

About 1808 to Baron von Gleichenstein, by whom he thought himself slighted. 245. You are living on a quiet sea, or already in the safe harbor. You do not feel the distress of a friend out in the raging storm,

or you must not feel it. In 1811, to his friend Gleichenstein, when Beethoven was in love with the baron's sister-in-law, Therese Malfatti. 246. I must have a confidant at my side, lest life become a burden.

July 4, 1812, to Count Brunswick, whom he is urging to make a tour with him probably to Teplitz. 247. Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men. At my age, I need a certain uniformity and equableness of life.

Can such exist in our relationship? June 7, 1800, question mark, to the immortal beloved. 248. O Providence, thou shaffed me one day of pure joy. Long has the echo of perfect felicity been absent from my heart.

When, O when, O thou divine one, shall I feel it again in nature's temple and man's? Never. Ah, that would be too hard. Conclusion of the Heiligenstadt will. End of section 6.