THOMAS MANN: THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN OR WHY WE ARE ALL ILL.
The imagination can gladly be
expanded further: Coincidentally, you go there when an unknown and dangerous
virus spreads all over the world, imposing confinements, curfews and
quarantine.
As soon as you arrived, you start
meeting people of all kinds. For example, Joachim,
a sick lieutenant to whom you ask the question:
"But
I would think time ought to pass quickly for you all," Hans Castorp suggested.
"Quickly and slowly, just as you like," Joachim
replied. "What I'm trying to say is that it doesn't really pass at all,
there is no time as such, and this is no life-no, that it's not," he said,
shaking his head and reaching again for his glass.[2]
Shortly afterwards enters Dr. Krokowski, chief physician and bold
decipherer of the turbulences of the soul, who assumed that you would follow
Joachim's treatment. When you assured him, you were "thank God, very
healthy," he says:
"You don't say!" Dr.
Krokowski replied, thrusting his head forward at a derisive slant and
smiling more broadly. "In that case you are a phenomenon of greatest
medical interest. You see, I've never met a perfectly healthy person before.”[3]
Then a luminous and sociable
figure from the Mediterranean appears, Signor Ludovico Settembrini, man of
letters and supporter of universal progress, putting a warning on the table for
you:
"Leave me in peace with that so-called literature!" he said.
“What does it offer? Beautiful characters? What am I to do with beautiful
characters? I am a practical man, and beautiful characters hardly ever come
across in life! "[4]
During a supposedly relaxing walk,
someone tells you:
“Don't you enjoy looking at a coffin? At times I really enjoy looking
at one. I think a coffin is a downright beautiful piece of furniture, beautiful
when it's empty, but when someone lies in it, it is just sublime in my eyes.
There is something edifying about funerals - and I have sometimes thought that
you should go to a funeral instead of going to church if you want to edify
yourself a little”.[5]
Mr. Settembrini keeps issuing warnings, and considers that:
“Music is politically dangerous. A devilish effect, gentlemen! "[6]
Summa summarum (up to now): There is no time, even no life, we are
all not entirely healthy, literature and music usually bring nothing, except
damage, and it is much more "edifying" to go to a funeral instead of
going to church.
You may still have the courage to
counter that hastily concocted summary, hence issuing a shy reply:
"But love is still possible ..."
Colossal error! Because now
follows a lecture by Doctor Krokowski,
"Love as a disease-causing power", before an excited audience, in
search of wisdom, to which the scientifically irrefutable thesis is presented:
“And how did it end, this clash between the forces of chastity and
love-for those were indeed the forces involved? It ended to all appearances
with the triumph of chastity.”[7]
Everyone was still waiting to see
in what form the unauthorized-love would return:
“The women hardly breathe. Prosecutor Paravant quickly shook his ear again so that at the crucial moment
it would be open and receptive. Then Dr.
Krokowski: In the form of illness! The symptom of illness is disguised
love-activity and all illness transfigured love! "[8]
No doubt whatsoever: We are all just ill.
(TV movie 1982). Dr Krokowski: (Kurt Raab) "All illness is transfigured love ..."
Would you then like to remain in
such a sanatorium for three weeks, or would you rather get the hell out of
there, promising yourself never to accept such invitations again?
In the novel The Magic Mountain (1924)
by Thomas Mann (* 1875- † 1955),
whose plot evolves over seven years, until 1914, there are hundreds of people who
have to – or want to - stay in such a health resort (Davos, Switzerland). Some
of them in fact feeling good, although the type and intensity of the illness
vary. Event those who were not sick at all, despite the dictum of Dr. Krokowski, yet would rather at
least get little malad in order to continue enjoying the non-existent time there. A
“time-out” modus that is inconspicuous and medically compliant. It was the era
of the “sanatorium”, the health-resorts at the top, as tuberculosis was rampant
everywhere, and only a certain height - the thinner the air, the better -
brought containment and possibly healing.
First German edition (1924)
We do not intend to embark
ourselves into a complete deconstruction and exegesis of the novel. There are
numerous studies and monographs in all languages, including those that tend to
focus on narrow viewpoints, be it the role of the number "7," which
keeps creeping into the novel like a snake, all the possible interpretations of
the name "Madame Chauchat",
including those going down to the underworld of the French language, or the
discussion, strongly influenced (among others) by Henri Bergson (*1859-†1941),
about the subjective conceptualization of "time", which stands
up to the routinely numerically divided-one.
It is more about re-enhancing this
novel as the - possibly - matching glasses for our "now". As Thomas
Mann himself defined it, the core of The Magic Mountain is that the
experience of illness and death enables the attainment of pure and higher
health:
"... that all higher health must have passed through the deep experiences of
sickness and death, as the knowledge of sin is a prerequisite for salvation.”[9]
Should one read this novel these
days, or even read it again?
It is a very long novel that takes
place mostly in people's minds and souls. A contemporary (postmodern) publisher,
whom the type-script is thrown on his desk, would send the following answer:
“Dear Mr. Thomas Mann!
We find your novel very interesting. There are enough macabre and
erotic features to make it saleable. Nevertheless, a request: Could you simply
liquidate at least 300 pages of the text? "
My first attempt with Thomas
Mann's magnum opus was a few decades
ago, in South America. It was in Spanish, around the early 1970s, and I found
the text "boring". Such an adjective should be understood rather as a
sign of the narrow-mindedness of the (then) young man, suffocating amidst
pressing political discussions (and dissipations) of that epoch. The second
encounter, in English, took place in London, England, in the early 1980s, and
it was not only complete- ̶enriching, stimulating. At the same time, I noticed
that only a confrontation with the German version could bring into light all
the veiled undercurrents, the subtle word constructions within the novel. The
third “reunion”, or the first real “togetherness” with the original, began in
1988. The copy I bought in Hamburg, with all its underlines, markings and
notes, is still on my desk today.[10]
However, readers must be warned:
You will be inundated by a lava coming from the volcano of one of the most
talented authors of the 20th century. The novel is pigmented with symbols,
mysterious signs, encrypted allusions and correlations, sometimes linguistic
puzzles and exquisite semantic traps, presented to the reader on a
silver-stray. It's a vast minefield - but it's worth exploring with or without
a mine-detector ...
Thomas Mann used to be quite keen on
staging himself as the refined provocateur
(in the best possible French sense of the word), now and then all too
pretentious, evidently confident that a great, and already celebrated, narrator
like him could allow himself, long, sometimes even boring, descriptions to flow
into the text. Everything was to be endured,
because you knew that, in the end, a few diamonds will appear. Even if you have
to swallow fifty pages first.
The Bildungsroman and the
first great lesson concerning the constellation of love. The most important
thing: "To the point!" And on top of that: "In time!"
And there is a young man, a
Hanseatic man (the “hero” of the novel) who originally came for only three
weeks, but wants to stay longer because he desires to get closer to a Russian
woman. Ready to fall “ill”, as an addition to illness par excellence: love. The trigger of such a spiritual devotion is
the appearance of Madame Clawdia
Chauchat, a Russian with oriental features (a "Kyrgyz-eyed"
woman), who represents the not-completely-forbidden yet sinful, sensually
inviting hearth of eroticism.
Until the end of the novel, a
question remains valid ̶̶̶and unanswered. Whether Hans Castorp (the Hamburg-born
Hanseatic), actually had the protozoa of a disease in him, before his arrival
at the sanatorium, or whether he himself, by extremely forcing his mind,
praying to all gods, begged for sickness to arrive, until the wish became
concrete. That is “true” love: to let yourself fall ill, in order to stay close
to the “love-object”. Nevertheless: This “being-in-love” does not have to mean
that one is “loved”. That absent answer is, at least in the beginning,
relatively secondary.
Madame Chauchat -̶ because she is married (or so it is rumored) ̶almost
always sits down at the “good Russian table”, not at the “bad” one. Hence, we
already know that the plot of the novel takes place before the Bolshevik
seizure of power in 1917. But we are unable to discern whether the guests of
the "good" table should become the future Russians-in-exile, and
those of the "bad" ones, the supporters of the Bolsheviks. Or the
other way around.
(TV 1982) Madame Chauchat
(Marie-France-Pisier) after she closed the door, again, with a scandalous
loudness. " In quite marvelous contrast
to her noisy entrance, she walked soundlessly, with a peculiar slinking gait,
her head thrust slightly forward, and proceeded to the farthest table on the
left, set perpendicular to the veranda doors-the Good Russian table. As she
walked she kept one hand in the pocket of her close-fitting wool jacket, while
the other was busy at the back of her head, tucking and arranging her hair.”[11]
The declaration of love that unfolds
between pages 352-362 is largely expressed in French, as the young Hanseatic
man found it easier to express his deepest feelings in that foreign language,
"c'est parler sans parler"[12].
As Castorp explained to her that his fever was a consequence of his total
devotion to the lady, she said:
"Quelle folie!"
"Oh, l‘amour n‘est rien
s’il n‘est pas de la folie, une chose insensée, défendue et une aventure dans
le mal."[13]
It is precisely against this lure
to take the “aventure dans le mal”
that he is warned by an Italian.
A European novel, without Englishmen and Englishwomen ...
It is a European novel, almost
without Englishmen, better: A “continental European” novel that takes place in
the eternal Switzerland of “neutrality”, transpiring the future of Europe as a
leitmotif.
Let us put an all too premature
and possibly risky metaphorical interpretation of the text on the table:
“Is it then the whole of Europe "sick"? And is war to be
considered as the only “redemption”?
Where and when are we? There is no
direct reference in the novel regarding the period, but we assume, literarily,
most likely around 1912 in Davos, Switzerland. Exactly that year Thomas Mann
and his wife stayed in the Swiss village on the Alps, because his wife, Katja,
began a cure in the Sanatorium. He
came back again in 1921, to give shape to the "final details" of his
novel.
No one would risk denying that The
Magic Mountain continues to be classified as one of the most relevant
and brilliant novels in the European literature of the 20th century, at the
same time as a masterpiece of German-language narrative of all time. The author
himself, scribbling a text which he originally conceived as a light, short and
humorous counterpart to the novella Death
in Venice (1913), noted early on that the seeds he planted did not just
promise a simple bouquet of flowers, but in fact a lush, Babylonian garden. His
remark could easily be categorized as one of the most glorious
"understatements" in the history of world literature:
"The material seems to tend towards relevance…”
Indeed it did then - it still does
today. And this "tendency" will continue to distill itself in the
future.
First American edition, 1939.
On the one hand Signor Ludovico Settembrini, a
democratic Republican, humanist, and freemason, whose liberalism, however, is
largely shaped and underpinned by Nietzschean
ideas - sometimes even unintentionally, called into question. Settembrinis maitre à penser is the Italian poet Giousuè Carducci (1835-1907), Nobel Prize of Literature in 1906,
known for his, every now and then, vehement anti-clerical poems. He is also
considered a major literary historian and translator of Goethe and Heine into
Italian. Settembrini appears as a
jovial Italian, partisan of the affirmation of life, whom Leo Naphta tries to devalue as a
“civilization pamphleteer”. Physically modeled on the Italian composer Ruggiero Leoncavallo (* 1857- † 1919),
he will try to protect the "problem-child" Castorp from the lure of illness and death. He likes to compare
himself to Prometheus.
Mentor and educator of the young
Hanseatic man, he also warns him about the "erotic trap" of Madame Chauchat. The most important
message is "Illness as resentment" (Nietzsche), Settembrini
tells Castorp, warning him of the
longing for death, the overcoming of which is ultimately the most relevant and
hopeful gospel of The Magic Mountain.
Quite the opposite, Leo Naphta, a born Jew, but converted
to Catholicism and Jesuitism. Naphta tries
to merge the Hegelian-Marxist dialectic–whose crystallization in the inevitable
class struggle must lead to the victory of socialism ̶ with the original
Christian foundations. Classified by Settembrini
as “Princeps scholasticorum”, the former “Professor of ancient languages” in
the upper classes of“ Fridericianus ”[14] categorized even Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (* 1780- † 1831) as “ a Catholic thinker ”[15].
In his opinion, the arrival of
communism will celebrate ̶ and confirm ̶ the premises and the idea of paradise
of the first apostles of Christianity. The portrait of Naphtas is undoubtedly a rather overelaborated parody of the
Marxist intellectual Georg Luckács
(*1885-†1971), whom Thomas Mann once met. The Hungarian-born philosopher never
seemed to have felt alluded as such, although Naphta is described in the novel as "tenant of Lukaçek"[16].
"The great colloquium on
health and illness" is one of the most relevant battles between the
irreconcilable opponents, which is carried out in front of Hans Castorp, his cousin Joachim,
and other participants in the "Liegekur".
TV movie (1982). The big opponents in the galaxy of ideas, cultures, religions, national prejudices, plus matching extravagances, Naphta (Charles Aznavour) and Ludovico Settembrini (Flavio Bucci). Settembrini to Naphta: "Above all, I notice with displeasure that you are again splitting the world in two"[17].
This novel is also about a long,
almost eternal “in-the-antechamber-living”. In German there is a verb for that,
coming out of the French word “anti-chambre”, “antichambrieren. The “chambre”
(rather “la chambre”) is society, the existence outside, at the foot of the
mountain, in the flatland. Such a “kicking-around-in-the-lobbies”
arises thank to real, or imaginary, diseases. This “beyond the real world” also enables
another way of timing the time, of immersing oneself in its seeds. Not having
it measured according to the ritualized calendar, but according to the
turbulence of the soul, the innate changes in nature, and the cycles of
diseases.
The return of Madame Chauchat
TV (1982). Madame Chauchat (Marie-France Pisier) returns to the sanatorium ... but in the company of her new "partner", Mynheer Peeperkorn, a Colonial-Dutch millionaire (Rod Steiger).
“I've been up here for a long
time, Mynheer Peeperkorn, for years and days - I don't know exactly how long,
but they are years of life, that's why I spoke of 'life', and I'll also come
back to 'fate' at the right moment."[19]
“Chronology”, as traditionally
understood, has disappeared. The re-encounter with the Russian woman of the
“Steppenwolflichter” (eyes of the “coyote”, or “prairie wolf”) fires up the old
flame again. The possibility of a “nuite
d’amour”” ̶ like a few years ago ̶ is hinted at, with refinement. But we
shall know no more.
“Illness” emerges out of the novel
as a window from which “being and time” can be viewed and “understood” in a
new, perhaps more meaningful way. In the magical-mountain-like
sense of the word, love is offered as the "purest possible disease",
since it is a spiritual revelation which does not exclude self-sacrifice. This
purest disease can, initially, lead to a physical weakening, reaching even dangerous
limits. From such a “purest illness”, however, the purest healing should also
arise, thanks to the acceptance of a principle, thanks to the conviction that
“love-as-a-question” does not always need an answer. It is enough to
"throw yourself".
The ever-repeating question, whose
answer is almost always missing: Does literature follow reality or vice-versa?
Although this novel was conceived - at least fragmentarily - before the
beginning of the so-called "First World War", the author returned to
Davos in 1921 in order to refine the final details of the scenery and the
characters, to make them more precise.
His concept was to describe the
dark and cloudy atmosphere of the Kulturkampf
and the national contradictions that would fuel the war in 1914, and to
recreate it in a literary way, in a sanatorium. 2700 meters above sea level.
He was perhaps unaware that, in
fact, he was also in the process of translating the “antechambers” of the
“Second World War” onto paper, its psychological landscapes. There is then only
“one war”, the military confrontations of which took place in two stages. The
“Magic Mountain” partly follows reality, but the latter also follows
literature, in the sense that the “roots” of what was still to come were
anticipated in literature.
Not for the first time, and not
for the last time, then as now, the poets arrive before the scientists (and
politicians) and blatantly triumph in their predictions. Thomas Mann used the
right barometers and everyone was signaling “heavy storm”.
But poets also do arrive, at least
now and then, before the philosophers.
Between 1928 and 1931 the “Davos
University Courses” were created, part of a project to develop an international
university in Davos. Albert Einstein
(* 1879- † 1955) was there in 1928.
Martin Heidegger (* 1889- † 1976), who read The Magic Mountain
together with Hannah Arendt (* 1906-
† 1975) in Marburg, arrived in Davos in 1929 to take part in a big disputation
(topic: “What is man?”). For comparison: the frequently recited question in The Magic Mountain: "What was
life?"
One of the most widely read philosophy books of the last few decades, The Magician's Age. The great decade of philosophy, 1919-1929, by Wolfram Eilenberger, already available in many languages, represents a pertinent analysis of those days in Davos and their effects on the “world spirit”.
Wolfram Eilenberger says:
"For Heidegger time is not an external thing or vessel, but a process at
the bottom of all experience"
So The Magic Mountain after all.
Whether the annual Davos “World
Economic Forum”, founded by Klaus Schwab
in 1971, was also contaminated by the magic of Thomas Mann's novel remains a
risky question, the answers of which will take at least a century.
[1] This
is a translation from the original in German (also available in this blog). Quotes
from the novel in English are either from Mann, Thomas. The Magic Mountain, English translation by John E. Woods, Vintage International.,
or by the author of this blog, indicated as “O.T. German text”.
[2] Mann,
Thomas. The Magic Mountain, English
translation by John E. Woods, Vintage International, pg. 14.
[3] Pg. 16.
[4] O.T. German text, pgs. 102-03.
[5] O.T. German text, pg. 116.
[6] O.T. German text, pg. 125.
[7] Pg. 125.
[8] O.T. German text, pg. 136.
[9] Introduction
to „The Magic Mountain” for students of the University of Princeton.
[10] Mann, Thomas. Der Zauberberg,
Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 1987, ungekürzte Ausgabe, 768 pp.
[11] Pg. 75.
[12] German text, p. 356.
[13] German text, p. 361,
[14]
One of the oldest schools in the German-speaking countries, founded in
Schwerin, in 1553, specialized in Greek and Latin.
[15] O.T.
German text, pg. 467.
[16] O.T. German text, pg. 394.
[17] O.T. German text, pg. 399
[18] O.T. German text, pg. 577.
[19]
O.T. German text, pg. 645. The underlined words are ours.
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