Thoughts out of Season, Part I: David Strauss, the Confessor and the Writer - Richard Wagner in Bayreuth. — John Shaqi
Thoughts out of Season, Part I: David Strauss, the Confessor and the Writer - Richard Wagner in Bayreuth.Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm
PhilosophyPhilosophy
Thoughts out of Season, Part I: David Strauss, the Confessor and the Writer - Richard Wagner in Bayreuth.
Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm
Strauss, David Friedrich, 1808-1874; Wagner, Richard, 1813-1883
minds when ye utter your encomiums, which therefore "spring forth with
such hearty warmth" that one must be blind not to see to whom ye are
really bowing. Even Goethe in his day had to cry: "Upon my honour, we
are in need of a Lessing, and woe unto all vain masters and to the
whole æsthetic kingdom of heaven, when the young tiger, whose
restless strength will be visible in his every distended muscle and
his every glance, shall sally forth to seek his prey!"
V.
How clever it was of my friend to read no further, once he had been
enlightened (thanks to that chimerical vision) concerning the
Straussian Lessing and Strauss himself. We, however, read on further,
and even craved admission of the Doorkeeper of the New Faith to the
sanctum of music. The Master threw the door open for us, accompanied
us, and began quoting certain names, until, at last, overcome with
mistrust, we stood still and looked at him. Was it possible that we
were the victims of the same hallucination as that to which our friend
had been subjected in his dream? The musicians to whom Strauss
referred seemed to us to be wrongly designated as long as he spoke
about them, and we began to think that the talk must certainly be
about somebody else, even admitting that it did not relate to
incongruous phantoms. When, for instance, he mentioned Haydn with that
same warmth which made us so suspicious when he praised Lessing, and
when he posed as the epopt and priest of a mysterious Haydn cult;
when, in a discussion upon quartette-music, if you please, he even
likened Haydn to a "good unpretending soup" and Beethoven to
"sweetmeats" (p. 432); then, to our minds, one thing, and one thing
alone, became certain--namely, that his Sweetmeat-Beethoven is not our
Beethoven, and his Soup-Haydn is not our Haydn. The Master was
moreover of the opinion that our orchestra is too good to perform
Haydn, and that only the most unpretentious amateurs can do justice to
that music--a further proof that he was referring to some other artist
and some other work, possibly to Riehl's music for the home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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