Showing posts with label the magic mountain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the magic mountain. Show all posts

Monday, 13 July 2015

Doctor Faustus - Thomas Mann - book review

After thoroughly relishing two of Thomas Mann's novels, The Magic Mountain and Buddenbrooks, I decided to move on to Doctor Faustus, published in 1947.

Doctor Faustus tells the life story of a fictional composer, Adrian Leverkuhn, through the narration of his friend Zeitbolm. The narration itself is delivered against the background of the unfolding horrors of the Second World War, allowing much scope for parallels with the time in which the events of the story actually occurred, and with the fate of Leverkuhn. The composer's fate or destiny are not blatantly employed as a direct metaphor for those of Germany, or vice-versa, but the implied comparison adds depth and lustre to the novel.



In the earlier chapters there is much musing on intellectual, cultural and socio-political matters. At first reading, these can seem like tangents or diversions, but they make sense in the end, both in terms of how the plot develops and in providing some background context on the times in which Leverkuhn, Zeitbolm and their contemporaries lived and worked. They serve too as indicators of how the composer was beginning to stand out from the crowd even in his formative years, in his outlook on life and culture.

In stating the above, I must confess to having found Doctor Faustus quite heavy going up until around the halfway point. Certainly when compared to the more "fluent" and accessible delights of The Magic Mountain and Buddenbrooks, it can feel like this one takes an inordinate amount of time to "happen". The writing style and language are more impenetrable and less flowing.The passages which abound with musical technicalities, theory and jargon may not be to everyone's taste. Concentration and persistence are required, but one is rewarded towards the conclusion, as the fog disperses.

My impression, rightly or wrongly, was that Mann (via the narrator) left the main aspects of the story, namely Leverkuhn's mental afflictions and his supposed pact with sinister supernatural forces, ever so slightly ambiguous, and up to the reader to weigh and interpret.

As with the other Thomas Mann novels which I have encountered, the characters have depth and plausibility, and the author goes to great lengths to illustrate and convey their traits and characteristics. As this story progresses, the social circle of the composer and his associates becomes more familiar and intriguing, more central to the narrative,  and there are a few notable sub-plots, which enrich and augment the picture considerably by vividly depicting the social mores and hang-ups of this artistic and academic "community".

So, not as immediately enjoyable as the other Thomas Mann novels which I have read, but an imaginative and stimulating piece of work, displaying all the hallmarks which make him such an important and powerful writer.


Thursday, 6 November 2014

Buddenbrooks - Thomas Mann - book review

After finishing "The Magic Mountain", I was sufficiently enthused to immediately seek out Thomas Mann's first novel, "Buddenbrooks", published in 1901.

"Buddenbrooks" chronicles the fortunes, and gradual decline, of an affluent north German merchant family, and its social circle, during the nineteenth century. This is set against the backdrop of social and political changes in Germany and the wider world. The socio-political stuff is not at the forefront of the narrative, but it does form part of the fabric of the story, and the effects of change are occasionally evident in the dialogue between characters and their attitudes towards their elders or contemporaries. Possibly the most overt manifestation is in the chapters which address the upheavals and ferment of 1848.

One thing which "Buddenbrooks" exudes is evidence of diligent research and a grasp of the world in which such a family existed. This was a multi-faceted world, and it was rarely simply a case of one generation, or one social class, being at odds with another. The notion that all groups were moving in certain directions, as part of some uniformly seismic shift,  is quietly dispelled here I think.

Often the outlook of individuals was determined largely by their upbringing, their associations and their obligations within an extended family. It was still a world of deference, where people tended to "know their place". Many had no incentive to be worldly-wise or enlightened, because they were insulated, reliant on others, or did not truly own themselves. It was often only the disturbance of the equilibrium by some extraneous jolt which upset this "comfort zone".

The thought passed through my mind that although the social conventions which prevailed in those days were stifling, they also ensured a kind of stability and security - provided you were born into the right measure of prosperity and influence. It must be borne in mind that not all people enjoyed the privileges and the relative certainty of outcome of the Buddenbrooks.

The pivotal characters for me in the novel are Tom (Thomas) and Tony (Antonie). Both are superbly rounded and convincing creations, full of contradictions, flawed but also admirable. Their experiences and viewpoints form the backbone of the story as they struggle, sometimes in harmony, sometimes at odds, to keep things together.

Some of Tom's reflections are quite revealing. He appears to recognise some of the anomalies and injustices of the world in which he operates, but either can not, or will not, bring himself to confront them, partly because of the underlying need to "keep up appearances". Difficult decisions were avoided because of the tethers of loyalty and obligation. Set against this landscape, perhaps things were always going to change slowly.

Another character who I found captivating was "Hanno", the son of Thomas Buddenbrook, who showed little interest in his father's world of commerce, and instead found refuge in music and the arts. This invokes the age-old examination of the tension between the "bohemian" outlook and the bourgeois existence. Countless authors have explored this area, but it never gets old or tired.

The chapter set in Hanno's school provides a window on some of the emergent trends as the nineteenth century wore on, with some young people unwilling to subscribe unquestioningly to the ways and the values of their elders. Insubordination had always been there in some form, but were the new ideas of that time just more coherent and potent?

The one character who I found curious was "Morten", with whom Antonie has some contact quite early on in the piece. I was expecting him to return in a major way at a later stage, but he didn't.  He had some profound things to say in his brief appearances. However, when I think about it, the fact that he was something of a "red herring" actually enriches the overall.

Even though this novel could be seen as somewhat downbeat, in that it deals largely with decay and misfortune, I found it uplifting and moving, in its celebration of human foibles, the richness of life and the stoicism and resilience of people. For all its depiction of momentous social change, it is also quite simply a magnificent piece of story-telling.

On my first reading, I did not fully take in the significance and relevance of the author's unusually diligent concentration on the personal appearance, characteristics and mien of many of the characters.  Much symbolism to be savoured there, methinks.  That calls for a second reading of "Buddenbrooks", then....

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

The Magic Mountain - Thomas Mann

I have recently finished reading Thomas Mann's novel The Magic Mountain, originally published in 1924.
 
The story centres on the character Hans Castorp, who travels to a sanatorium in the Swiss Mountains, initially to visit his cousin, who is being treated there. However, Castorp himself soon falls ill, and ends up spending seven years in the institution.
 
Whilst in the sanatorium, Castorp is exposed to a diversity of intellectual, moral and philosophical viewpoints and pressures, and his curiosity on these questions is consequently aroused. He also becomes infatuated and obsessed with one of the female patients.

The novel is set in the early twentieth century, in the years preceding the First World War, and acts as a kind of snapshot of the European bourgeoisie at that time, their social mores and attitudes prior to an upheaval which would in some ways serve as a watershed. Some of the symbolism appears to touch on the forces and factors which brought about the catastrophe.

A constant theme throughout The Magic Mountain is the nature of time, and how people's conception of the phenomenon differs when they are in an "unnatural" environment such as that of a sanatorium, divorced from "normal" existence. Throughout the narrative the meaning of, and attitudes to, death are also a constant concern.

To me the Castorp figure is firstly portrayed as a little "green", perhaps the legacy of a sheltered early life, and although he comes under the tutelage of others in his new surroundings, he is also possessed of some innate savoir-faire and astuteness which bourgeois conventions and constraints would have prevented him from deploying in the "flat-lands". This latent perceptiveness is allowed to flourish.

Although the differences between life below and that in the sanatorium are highlighted, it can also be seen that some of the human relationships and behaviour in the mountain retreat are a microcosm of social dynamics everywhere.

New impetus is supplied by the introduction of the Naphta character, and his intellectual fencing with the humanist Settembrini. This brings me on to another pleasing aspect of The Magic Mountain, and that is the clever construction of characters.  They are distinctive but credible, outlandish but plausible, and generally do not conform to stereotypes.

It is refreshing to become immersed in a novel which does not concern itself with one central theme, or even a loosely connected set of themes. Some readers may even find that it takes a little time to adjust to this, but my advice is to just relax and let the story come to you.  Yes, Mann is trying to tell us things, but he is also telling us a story. Striving to see profound significance in every sentence will only impair one's enjoyment.
 
The story takes some unexpected but captivating twists, through Castorp's ski-ing expedition, his friendship with the Dutchman Peeperkorn, his continuing obsession with Madame Chauchat, the séances, the tragic duel between Naphta and Settembrini, to the final sequence, which follows the main protagonist's decision to volunteer for service in the war.

This is a challenging but highly stimulating and diverting read.