Beethoven's letters. Who was the immortal beloved?

[fayefaye]

The First Letter
July 6, in the morning
My angel, my all, my very self - Only a few words today and at that with pencil (with yours) - Not till tomorrow will my lodgings be definitely determined upon - what a useless waste of time - Why this deep sorrow when necessity speaks - can our love endure except through sacrifices, through not demanding everything from one another; can you change the fact that you are not wholly mine, I not wholly thine - Oh God, look out into the beauties of nature and comfort your heart with that which must be - Love demands everything and that very justly - thus it is to me with you, and to your with me. But you forget so easily that I must live for me and for you; if we were wholly united you would feel the pain of it as little as I - My journey was a fearful one; I did not reach here until 4 o'clock yesterday morning. Lacking horses the post-coach chose another route, but what an awful one; at the stage before the last I was warned not to travel at night; I was made fearful of a forest, but that only made me the more eager - and I was wrong. The coach must needs break down on the wretched road, a bottomless mud road. Without such postilions as I had with me I should have remained stuck in the road. Esterhazy, traveling the usual road here, had the same fate with eight horses that I had with four - Yet I got some pleasure out of it, as I always do when I successfully overcome difficulties - Now a quick change to things internal from things external. We shall surely see each other soon; moreover, today I cannot share with you the thoughts I have had during these last few days touching my own life - If our hearts were always close together, I would have none of these. My heart is full of so many things to say to you - ah - there are moments when I feel that speech amounts to nothing at all - Cheer up - remain my true, my only treasure, my all as I am yours. The gods must send us the rest, what for us must and shall be -
Your faithful LUDWIG


The Second Letter
Evening, Monday, July 6
You are suffering, my dearest creature - only now have I learned that letters must be posted very early in the morning on Mondays to Thursdays - the only days on which the mail-coach goes from here to K. - You are suffering - Ah, wherever I am, there you are also - I will arrange it with you and me that I can live with you. What a life!!! thus!!! without you - pursued by the goodness of mankind hither and thither - which I as little want to deserve as I deserve it - Humility of man towards man - it pains me - and when I consider myself in relation to the universe, what am I and what is He - whom we call the greatest - and yet - herein lies the divine in man - I weep when I reflect that you will probably not receive the first report from me until Saturday - Much as you love me - I love you more - But do not ever conceal yourself from me - good night - As I am taking the baths I must go to bed - Oh God - so near! so far! Is not our love truly a heavenly structure, and also as firm as the vault of heaven?

The Third Letter
Good morning, on July 7
Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I need a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a clam consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours

[fayefaye]

Oh, best guess as to the IB=Antonie von Birkenstock. I like the third letter. Whaddaya think?

[fayefaye]

OH COME ON. Can't you see I'm trying to start a discussion here? All you people too lazy to join the book club, I've posted up the damn text right there!! read it! Come on!!

[azmuse]

faye!!! (in Tiny Tim's falsetto) it's Christmas Day
be patient with us; then we will Read the dammmmned text!
;)

[fayefaye]

It's Christmas day??!! here it's Boxing Day. Different time zones. :) Wow, I'm living in the FUTURE. how cool's that?

[Azoic]

Yes Faye, it was Christmas day here at GMT -8 hours, then Lord of the Rings was watched, and lo, it's not Xmas any more. So, more to the point (no, not really) what's it like in the future.

As far as the letters, he was sort of possesive of her, much like she were an object. I don't know how I feel about that. Wait, yes I do, but I suppose that was a different age, so it might have been ok then, and he seems to (claim to) love her. Maybe ok.

Anywho, he says farewell at the end, is one of them dying?

[IWilKikU]

I didn't know Beethoven had such a way with words. I thought his talents lied mostly in the musical field.

[fayefaye]

the future? Big disappointment. Very boring.

kik. If I remember correctly, Beethoven was half in the romantic era and half in the classical era, *according to piano teacher.* so I guess his writing could have been influenced by the Romantics around at the time? :confused: Either way, he was a genius, so it's not that suprising he could write well.

I don't know if somebody was supposed to be dying, but they were written in 1802. Beethoven didn't die until 1827. *holding crumpled sheet music in hand as source* nobody knows an awful lot about the letters, including myself. (the reason I started the thread). If anyone has info, that'd be great. they're not even sure who the IB was. Antonie Brentano - good guess-didn't die until 1869 (arrggh. hate looking things up on the internet. Don't make me do that. ;))

[fayefaye]

Wait, I think I'm wrong. The letters weren't written in 1802.

[ihrocks]

No one knows for certain who "IB" was, though there are several possibilities. But this gives me the opportunity to plug a beautiful if somewhat flawed film starring one of my favorite actors, Gary Oldman. The film is titled, "Immortal Beloved" and it seeks to answer the question you pose. It's a film curiousity because Oldman is said to have fallen in love with co-star Isabella Rossilini, the two became briefly engaged, then split and Oldman entered re-hab. However, there is one scene that makes all the soap bubbles of the plot worth sitting through. It is a young Beethoven sitting in a field gazing at the stars with "Ode to Joy" in the background. The camera moves to the stars and you feel the connections between the human soul, the vast universe, and the marvelous music. A very well-done scene.

ihrocks


I still prefer Mozart!

[fayefaye]

Originally posted by ihrocks
I still prefer Mozart!

lol, me too.

[fayefaye]

Ode to Joy's been so done though. It ruins it that they use it so much, movies, mobile phone ringtones, etc. It becomes so meaningless. I'd rather hear his lesser known pieces, even if they're worse. Commercialism can really ruin good music. Like I was listening to Tchaikovsky, and suddenly I start thinking of ballerina hippos. It ruins it, things like that.