Search This Blog

Wednesday 2 November 2022

GERTRUDE - Book review

 

Hermann Hesse’s 1910 novel Gertrude is a slim work told in the first person. The narrator Kuhn comes from a reasonably wealthy family – who are not particularly keen on his chosen profession in music, as a violinist and a composer. His relationship with both parents is somewhat distant, though he grows closer to his father in time: ‘Youth ends when egotism does’ (his father tells Kuhn) ‘maturity begins when one lives for others.’ (p89)

Early in his life Kuhn suffers a serious accident and has to contend with a pronounced limp. He finds making friends problematic and repeatedly fails when seeking companionship with women. However, his musical ability is recognised by a notable opera singer, Heinrich Muoth, a flamboyant character, imbiber of alcohol and a womaniser; a friendship develops.

Kuhn makes the acquaintance of a rich merchant called Imthor, who invites him to play a Trio in E flat major that Kuhn recently composed, accompanied by another violinist and cellist. At this soiree Kuhn meets Gertrude, Imthor’s attractive daughter, and is smitten: ‘I dedicated my music and my life’s breath, my thoughts and my heart to her.’ (p65).

Gertrude is an accomplished singer and appreciates Kuhn’s musical skill. However, partly due to his awareness of his disability, Kuhn finds it hard to summon the courage to reveal to her his feelings, which remain unrequited. 

Kuhn’s life takes on complications when Muoth is introduced to Gertrude and they become an ill-matched doomed pair. This is not a romantic novel and there is no happy ending. It is however believable, annoyingly where Kuhn’s lack of self-worth is concerned, and ultimately tragic, though a kind of contentment pervades the ending.

Looking back, Kuhn states ‘… my life has not been empty and worthless. Even if my external destiny has unfolded itself as it does with everyone, inevitably and as decreed by the gods, my inner life has been my own work, with its joys and bitterness, and I, alone, hold myself responsible for it.’ (p5) [An attitude sadly lacking in many these days, it seems.] 

This was an early work for Hesse. At one point Kuhn befriends one of his teachers, Mr Lohe, who dabbles in Eastern mysticism; perhaps also signalling Hesse’s early introduction to the subject: ‘Then came the teachings about Karma. It appeared to me to be a religious interpretation of the law of causality, which was not unattractive to me.’ (p51)    

Hesse seems to get into the skin of a musician. ‘… it has been a continual consolation to me and a justification for all life that there is music in the world, that one can at times be deeply moved by rhythms and pervaded by harmonies. Oh, music! A melody occurs to you; you sing it silently, inwardly only; you steep your being in it; it takes possession of all your strength and emotions, and during the time that it lives to you, it effaces all that is fortuitous, evil, coarse and sad in you; it brings the world into harmony with you; it makes burdens light and gives wings to the benumbed!’ (p6)

Ruminating later on music, Kuhn states, prophetically: ‘… that light and dark were closely related and that sorrow and peace were rhythm, part and spirit of the same great music.’ (p26) 

‘It was simple, lyrical music, which softly pined and faded away like a summer evening, neither happy nor sad, but which hovered in the mood of an evening that is ending, like a cloud glowing at sunset.’ (p128)

Kuhn finally meets Gertrude a third of the way through the book. Yet, perplexingly, he does not describe her eyes. ‘The pretty girl made on impression on me as soon as she came in…’ (p65).  He mentions ‘her lovely bright eyes’ but not their colour (p67). He also makes friends with a musician, Teiser, and he describes his friend’s ‘blue-grey childlike eyes’ (p69). 

A harbinger is inserted by Muoth: ‘Youth is the most difficult time of life. For example, suicide rarely occurs amongst old people.’ (p71)

Anyone appreciating music will undoubtedly empathise with Kuhn in his tale of love, despair, and redemption. 

Notes:

I cannot understand why Hesse referred to a place simply as ‘R’ – particularly when other places are mentioned.

Blurb warning. Do not purchase this copy. The blurb on the back is in effect a synopsis of what is going to happen, including the tragedy at the end, destroying any shock or surprise. The blurb-writer should have been shown the door! Thankfully, other editions don't appear to have used this version of the blurb.

No comments: