Ludwig van Beethoven in 1815, by Willibrord Joseph Mahler
Portrait courtesy of timelines.com
4, December 1827
Nothing much has happened in these past few years. I finished my ninth symphony in 1823. Also, in that same year, I met a sharp and bright young lad, who I feel will have the makings of a great musician later on. Franz Liszt, a young Hungarian lad, was only 11 years old when I came to his concert to see him perform on April 13th. Oh what a great player the boy was! If only my nephew, Karl, had the same talent his boy possessed.
Unfortunately, my nephew is somewhat of a dunce . . . no, scratch that. My nephew is a complete idiot when it comes to the appreciation of the finer qualities of music! He could not tell a C note from an A, while I his uncle, who shares his blood, who is the greatest composer on Earth, who cannot hear, can tell the difference between all the notes on the piano! Oh, I should not work myself up, for the doctor has told me to keep my blood pressure down, else it will imped my other illnessses that have plagued my life.
Anyways, after Liszt's performance, I went over to the boy and congratulated him heartily, so impressed was I by him. Perhaps he will be my successor in this musical world, a boy worthy of receiving my blessing, will undoubtedly heap loads of musical talent on this world long after I am gone.
On the 7th of May in 1824, my ninth symphony was first performed at the Karntnertor Theatre. I insisted on conducting at this symphony, for I knew my years on this world were almost over, and I would probably not live to see the next decade. Of course, I was conducting completely off beat due to my deafness, and I did not know that the real conductor was sitting a little off to the side and the players were actually looking to him when looking for conducting instructions. Only months later when one of my audience members had told me about that other conductor had I known.
This "other conductor" business was not the only thing I had not known. When my ninth symphony's performance was over, I could not hear the applause. Heck, I didn't even know that my own piece was over! In fact, until ony of my soloists turned me around to face the audience to see the thunderous applause and standing ovation they gave to my composition that I wept.
However, this happiness wasn't to last. In the year of 1826, my nephew attempted suicide! WHAT AN IDIOT MY NEPHEW IS. If he had truly wanted to commit suicide, he might as well do it properly! Remember, I said "attempted suicide!" My nephew attemped, and he failed! Oh, how am I related by blood to this young idiot? Apparently, he had two pistols and a heap of gunpowder at his disposal. Yet, he failed to shoot himself in the head? HOW? I know he is not a very bright young lad, but he does have an awfully huge and empty head! I have no idea how he managed to MISS shooting himself in the head. Anyways, he missed both times he tried to shoot himself. The second bullet grazed his temple but that was it. I really do sometimes wonder whether this boy was switched at the hospital, for I myself am quite an intelligent man. Therefore, there must be no way that this genius (me) is related to this suicide-committing-idiot (Karl).
After Karl's failed attempted suicide, my other younger brother, Johann (not Karl's father who had already passed away) invited the both of us to visit him at his house in Gneixendorf to get away from the atmosphere in Vienna. At first, I declined. But Johann persistently repeated his invitation, and nagged through his letters he sent weekly. After my nephew recovered from his attempted suicide in the hospital, I accepted my brother's invitation, and when I arrived there, my brother gave me my own servant! This brother certainly knows how to treat me! Or at least that's what I thought at the time. How wrong I was! Throughout my stay at Johann's apartment, Johann continued to pick fights with me. He questioned my stay at his apartment with issues over whether I should pay rent. Johann had invited ME to stay with HIM. I would certainly not prefer to be here if he himself had not asked me! And now he's asking me to pay rent to stay in a place I didn't like? Of course I refused! Besides, that, Johann frequently argued with me over Karl's inheritance. Although I do think the boy is an idiot, I still love him! He is my nephew after all! I am a relatively rich composer, although I do not spend my money like a rich composer because I am always putting some money aside for Karl. And Johann questions my noble act of doing this! How rude of him!
Beethoven's room in Gneixendorf
Photo courtesy of madaboutbeethoven.com
Alternate view of Beethoven's room in Gneixendorf
Photo courtesy of madaboutbeethoven.com
All this stress from arguing with my idiotic brother added to my weak health. In these past few years, my stomach and ankles began to swell, and I had to wear a belt around my stomach to hold it in. I finished my Late Quartet Op. 130 in my stay at Gneixendorf.
It was only a few days ago that my brother and I had a horrible and terrible row where I demanded to leave the hell that is Gneixendorf with Karl, despite the fact that the open milk cart was the only transportation available. Nevertheless, my pride exceeded me, and Karl and I left that very day for Vienna which took two days to complete. I am now a very sick man, for traveling for two days in the biting frost of December was too much for me to bear.
I shall leave my entry here. For I need to soak in a hot bath to ease the terrible aching of my bones.
Sincerely,
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