Hesse - Narcissus and Goldmund

[AvoidedCadence]

Has anyone read this book?  I am a big fan of Hesse in general but the reason I decided to bring this to the Forum is because I feel that Goldmund is SO relevant to pianists.  (Not to mention it's a fantastic book)

Anyway, the part I'm really interested in is Goldmund's basic problem:  faced with unavoidable death (which fascinates him) he sees the choice as: living for the moment, or trying to build a monument beyond time (in his case a sculpture, but could also be a composition or recording).  Also, he is very scared about dedicating himself to carving because he is terrified of becoming like his teacher, who once carved great, profound works, but now is an aging, respected, mundane master who has lost his earlier inspiration and become bitter.  Goldmund does not want to give up his vagrant wandering for two reasons:  he is scared of giving up his life experiences which inspire his carving and he does not want to risk his happiness in return for the possibility of creating a great masterpiece.  At one point he wonders if any compromise is possible between the two ways of life.

I think this is precisely the same problem faced by ALL creative people, not least pianists, who probably have to devote more time to their work than many other artists.  Any thoughts?

[Floristan]

I see no one has responded to your post, and I hate that when it happens to me, so I'll have a go at it.

I read Hesse, including "Narcissus and Goldmund," in university, which was quite a while back.  I remember thinking that I had finally found an author who understood my artistic temperament better than anyone had.  It was a very special time in my life.  I loved university and the freedom I had to explore ideas and experiences.  All my friends were artists -- playwrights, poets, novelists, actors, musicians, painters, sculptors, etc.   We lived in an isolated and protected world (the university campus), and we further isolated ourselves within it by only hanging out with other, equally bohemian types!  We were so far removed from reality, and we didn't have a clue that we were.  We thought we were the center of all the important stuff that was happening -- that the bourgeoisie were just unenlightened, uninspired, and herd-like animals who never dreamed the big dreams.

So Hesse fit right into this life.  He seemed to validate everything I and others were feeling.  We avidly discussed Goldmund's various predicaments and dilemmas, identified with them, mulled over them.  I recall it as being the most carefree time of my life, full of lots of pure enjoyment.  True, we anguished over love and art, but that was part of the fun!

This is a very round-about way to get to the point, which is:  whether Hesse did this intentionally or not, he created a character in Goldmund who is fraught with indecision, who seems basically unwilling to commit.  I say I don't know if it was intentional on Hesse's part, because it could be Goldmund was meant to be an object lesson -- an example of how we can talk ourselves into inaction -- or it could be that Hesse innocently created this character without any didactic intent.  I don't know what his intent was.

But what I took away from that book (not at the time, mind you, but somewhat later) was the real danger of commitment phobia.  You can put your entire life on hold indefinitely torn between the options, and then one day you realize you don't really have a life, that life has passed you by, that you have just let yourself be pushed by the currents and winds this way and that, having nothing to show for yourself.  Life is not about pondering choices but about making choices.  A life you won't regret is one in which those choices often involve taking risks and then committing yourself to something (and someone).   If things don't work out, we move on, but at least we cannot chide ourselves for not having lived!

This is what I eventually took away from Hesse's "Narcissus and Goldmund."

[AvoidedCadence]

Thanks for your reply, Floristan.

At first reading your post, I wasn't sure how it answered my question (but then I realised I hadn't asked anything  ).  So I read it again and understood.  Your take on Goldmund's "phobia" is interesting.  I agree with what you are saying - he takes great pains not to commit to anything.  At the same time, I can't help wondering if this is due to (a) fear of breaking his committment to his vagrancy and established happiness (what an idea!) or (b) fear of killing off part of his own soul and becoming a worn-out old man who no longer feels the deep desires and dreams the 'big dreams.'

On the other side of the coin, I feel that there are many people (maybe not so many musicians) who have made huge committments to their art (or business, or science, or whatever) not out of any real love of their work (witness the student who studies for years and years because s/he is determined to become a surgeon/lawyer/etc. not out of any abiding love for the task but because of a desire to have something, however artificial, to commit to.  This is a sort of anti-Goldmund attitude, but probably no less prevalent. 

Anyway, I'll ask my Goldmund question now:  should/do pianists (especially) play the piano for the sake of "monument-building" (i.e. doing something truly great, at great personal cost in time, effort, lost social opportunities...) or for personal enjoyment?  Is it only possible to achieve greatness as a pianist if one approaches the subject as a life-dominating effort of will?  (Michelangeli, one of my pianistic idols, said that the piano requires an attitude of sacrifice)  Or can one achieve something deep and abiding out of sheer enjoyment?  Or are the two inseperable?  Or, for most people at least, is no compromise possible?

[Floristan]

Most of us are not sufficiently driven and talented to become concert pianists.  Michelangeli is quite right, it requires tremendous attitude of sacrifice...especially if one is not naturally gifted...to achieve greatness.  I think becoming a concert pianist (or violinist for that matter) is 90% VERY hard work and maybe 10% talent.  It requires determination and patience and obsession that I can't even imagine having.  Plus forget having a personal life.  I've never wanted to work that hard at piano, and I've never wanted to put my personal life second to my obsession.  Maybe some can combine the two, but it's hard for me to see how. 

Martha Argerich was so frustrated by the lack of a personal life and the lonliness of solo playing that she steered her career into ensemble playing.  She had already sacrificed, become great, and paid her dues for 15 years by the time she made that decision.

I receive boundless joy from playing, knowing I'll never "build a monument."  I have something deep and abiding, regardless of how monumental it is.  Playing is like tapping into the collective unconscious directly.  Of course it's the composers who actually tapped into the universe, but we get the privilege of a backstage pass, as it were, by playing their compositions and submerging ourselves in their particular sense of wonder.

To me the wonder of playing is that we ALL get to achieve something extraordinarily deep and abiding, regardless of whether we have the will to achieve greatness as a pianist. 

[trix]

I don't think it's possible to fully examine Goldmund without also examining the (purposefully) contrasting  (alter)character of Narcissus....

[trix]

sorry bout the double post