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monotonous-minutia · 4 years ago

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because I think of it altogether too much, some dialogue on the differences in the role of the Muse in Les contes d’Hoffmann, in the play versus in the opera. Enjoy my nerdy, disorganized, former-literature-major ramblings as I spend altogether too much time picking apart the minutia of this issue (but hey, it’s in my URL, so).

In the original play by Michael Carré and Jules Barbier (the same people who wrote the libretto for the opera), the Muse doesn’t double as Niklausse. We get two separate characters–the Muse and Hoffmann’s sidekick, Friédrick.

The play opens with a monologue from the Muse, similar to the one in the opera (some lines are taken verbatim). The monologue in the play, though, isn’t about the Muse being mad at Stella and wanting to win Hoffman’s love. It is in a lot of ways a love letter to the real Hoffmann’s writing, of which Carré was a huge fan (obviously, he wrote a whole play about them). The works of E.T. A. Hoffmann were (and to an extent, still are) hailed as being unique, strange, and otherworldy compared to most of what was seen at the time. The Muse here talks about her stories as if they’re her own, and she happens upon Hoffmann in the tavern (read: when he gets drunk, he gets inspired to write weird stuff). She’s here, then, to introduce this story–the play that we’re watching/reading–as one of her own. She does reappear at the end and makes a statement similar to that made at the conclusion of the opera, that the poet had to suffer to be truly great and now that he’s given up on love she has him to herself–but it’s not that she specifically tried to make this happen, she’s just pleased that it did.

After the Muse’s opening monologue, she tells the audience that the people are coming and she’s going to hide, because they scare her. She puts on a suit and hat similar to that warn by the students that will soon be populating the tavern, so she can blend in with them and not be noticed. I’m guessing this is where the inspiration for the Muse also being Niklausse eventually (partially) comes from.

But we don’t have Niklausse in the play; we get Friédrick. Friédrick is, in my perception, ridiculously adorable. He spends a good portion of the play serving sass. There’s a ton of banter between him and Hoffmann, and some with Friédrick and the side characters as well as they collectively role their eyes at Hoffmann. So, much similarity to Niklausse. A few differences, though: the guys in the tavern love making fun of him, because he’s younger, and Hoffmann is even a little bit meaner to him than their operatic counterparts, and Friédrick is just kind of resigned to it, though he does make fun of Hoffmann at times. Mostly he feels sorry for him and feels the need to take care of him, as he can’t seem to take care of himself.

Friédrick is referred to as Hoffmann’ “shadow,” in that he follows him around everywhere making sure he doesn’t get himself arrested or shanked. He is also referred to by Hoffmann as “the voice of reason” through all his adventures, though of course Friédrick doesn’t remember any of them, since they didn’t actually happen. But he is constantly dragging Hoffmann out of trouble in these stories, which is why Dappertutto tries to off him in the Giulietta act. Dappertutto is annoyed that Friédrick first rescues Hoffmann from Olympia when she goes crazy (which is a big part of the play, and written into the libretto, but rarely ever portrayed on stage for the opera), then saves him from Crespel when Crespel tries to get Hoffmann for (as he perceives) killing Antonia (another bit that’s in the libretto but rarely portrayed onstage) and, finally, is trying to literally drag him away from Giulietta. As with Niklausse, Hoffmann severely under-appreciates Friédrick and all that his friend does for him. But when Dappertutto tries to give him a “sleeping potion” that he says will just make him pass out long enough for Hoffmann to get it on with Giulietta, Hoffmann kind of gets a reality check when he’s like “Wait, okay, but what if he drinks it and then he dies?” Dappertutto insists that no such thing is even remotely possible. I do wonder where Hoffmann’s sudden suspicion and consideration comes from. Like, is he already suspicious of Dappertutto, or is he just concerned because Friédrick is so small a single dose of Nyquil could end him? (Being a lightweight myself, I do wonder.) But we never find out either way, because Giulietta waltzes onstage and downs the poison first and of course Friédrick arrives just in time to save Hoffmann yet again. I just gotta wonder: given Friédrick is not the Muse in this version, why is it that he’s the one who drags Hoffmann out of trouble over and over again in a series of stories that didn’t actually happen? As constantly annoyed as he seems at Friédrick, he’s the one making the choice to have him play that role. And Friédrick is pretty cool with it. I guess they were roommates.

The Muse’s role, then, comes with a different vibe. She doesn’t have any influence over Hoffmann’s love life or seem quite as imminently concerned about it. She’s not following him around in the same way; she kind of just has to wait for him to come around. She’s less assertive and pretty resigned to having to deal with the constant BS but at the same time seems less bothered by it. She’s not totally dependent on him or solely invested in him; she just likes him a lot and enjoys writing stories with him. The operatic Muse is much more definitively attached to Hoffmann and sees his love life as a direct opposition to them. The stakes are higher for them than for the Muse in the play.

The whole Muse/Niklausse dynamic on the opera fascinates me to no end. I can’t even quite put into words the thoughts I have about it. Lately when I think about the question “If you could go back in time and talk to anyone in history who would it be?” I just want to go and talk to Barbier and Carré and ask how they came to the decision to make Niklauuse and the Muse the same character because–is there really anything in literature that’s quite the same as that? We get “a madwoman, come down from the heavens, to fight with a frivolous woman over the love of a fool” (a line from the libretto) who transforms themself into their poet’s best friend, and deals with his BS which is (as I rambled on a bit in an earlier post) borderline emotional abuse in some cases and even in its mildest forms raises the question “Why, sweetie, why do you put up with this.” Well, they can’t not, can they? What’s a Muse supposed to do? They’ve got their poet and have no other purpose in life that to serve as their inspiration. What would they do if Hoffmann did actually choose Stella over them? It’s basically out of the question.

So looking then at the Muse/Friédrick dynamic was an interesting transition. I can start to see some of the pieces but in some ways it also raises more questions. Was Niklausse ever an actual person, like Friédrick? Is the Muse donning the disguise for just that one night, to be witness to the storytelling, as the Muse in the play does? Does the operatic Muse just figure that Hoffmann will be drunk enough to not notice the difference when the real Niklausse comes back later? Or was Niklausse the Muse all along, and the Muse has for years (or however long) personified themself as another student to try and win Hoffmann on his level? Further, is it Hoffmann who comes up with all the little things that Niklausse does that hints to us what his status actually is, showing that Hoffmann is subconsciously aware of the connection all along? Or is it the Muse infiltrating the storytelling as it occurs to insert themself further, trying to get Hoffmann to really see them during the course of the telling?

On one hand I go crazy over the fact that these questions are never answered, and I wonder why the librettists went from the relatively straightforward Muse/Friédrick dynamic to the super meta, almost incomprehensible Muse/Niklausse dynamic. On the other hand, I appreciate the weird genius behind this that makes me think unreasonably hard about the creative process and art in general and also the relationships we have with people in our lives who we depend on in ways such as this. Also, I appreciate how the ambiguity allows different productions of the opera to have so many interpretations of the role (although there are definitely some interpretations that can go to hell as far as I’m concerned).

Also I think a lot about the names. I think Friédrick is just a cute name and I think it suits the original character. And the transition to Niklausse makes sense: a new interpretation of the character warrants a new name–plus Niklausse comes from “Nicholas” which means “victorious people” which makes sense, you know? Niklausse triumphs in the end, so why not have a powerful name like that? If I were a Muse taking on a human form on earth, I’d want something with that kind of power, too.

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keywestlou · 5 years ago

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THINK TANK: CHINA COULD QUICKLY OVERWHELM U.S. MILITARY IN ASIA

For the past several years, I have shared my concern about China growing and improving its military while the U.S. was doing relatively nothing in comparison.

If I have been correct, and I believe I was, now is the time when we may see China flexing its muscle.

The United States Study Center is a Think Tank at the University of Sydney in Australia. Its observation is China could quickly overwhelm the U.S. military in Asia. Such would result in an “unprecedented crisis.”

The Think Tank believes China’s overwhelming power would be evidenced “within hours.” The Think Tank’s report states, “China has deployed a formidable array of precision missiles and other counter-intervention systems to undercut America’s military primacy.”

What is, is. If our military prowess is now in second place, we should move our asses to do the necessary to get us back to #1. Last year, I wrote about a talk Xi had given. He said the U.S. may have spent a ton of money on military, but that money went to fight the little wars it has been involved in for many years. Not updating its war machinery. In the past 7 years, China has spent considerable monies improving its military might in every respect.

St. Mary of the Sea Catholic Church is part and parcel of Key West and its history. On this day in 1904, St. Mary’s was dedicated. A big deal! Bishop W. J. Kenny made the trip from St. Augustine.

I have been impressed with St. Mary’s over the years. In most parts of the U.S., Catholic Churches are closing. Catholics in those areas do not attend Church any longer. In Key West, they do. In droves. Impressive to see how packed St. Mary’s is on sunday.

This past week Trump spoke about blockading Venezuela again. An impossible effort. Though the President appears unaware. Take Cuba for example. A small island, easy to blockade. Venezuela on the other hand has a long shoreline. Impossible to successfully blockade. Trump would neither be aware nor understand such a fact.

Trump claims his concern for Venezuela is a humanitarian one. Don’t believe it! Yes, the people are starving. They have been starving for 7 years! Where was Trump even 2 years ago.

Trump’s real concern is oil. Venezuela has the largest reserve of oil in the world. Even Russia wants it. In fact, Russia already has men and planes on the ground in Venezuela.

Blockading Venezuela is as brilliant as wanting to buy Greenland.

Trump talks and acts like a bully. Inadvertently, he is going to get us into a war. I do not think he really wants one. However those advising him do. Like John Bolton. I would describe Bolton as desperate to start a war. For no other reason than to start a war.

Greece a present problem. The Iranian oil tanker sits in the water in the Middle East. The U.S. is preventing from it going anywhere.

This past week it was reported that Greece was going to permit it to dock in Greece. Trump went ballistic. Threatened Greece.

Greece had no such intention. It was John Bolton who did. Trump’s Pied Piper when it comes to war.

Trump extended an olive branch to China a few days ago.

Huawei is China’s second technical manufacturer. Biggest item manufactured i-phones.

Huawei gets the android parts it needs for the phones from U.S. manufacturers. Due to the tariff war, these manufacturers cannot sell the android parts to Huawei.

A few months ago when things looked like they were going to be kumbaya between the U.S. and China, Trump gave permission for American manufacturers to sell the android parts to China. The time to so do was extended to a date certain. That date will soon be reached.

Trump last week extended the time an additional 3 months.

Looks like an olive branch to me. Trump is aware he made a mistake with the China tariff situation. He seeks a way to get out of it. China is not being easy. They are making Trump squirm.

A big business in China is the replacement of body organs. China obtains them and sells them. Big dollars involved! Big cruelty, also!

The primary source of body parts comes from those jailed or in detention camps. A kidney here, an eye there.

A Chinese company has started whose goal is to produce body orgasns from pigs and other animals. Such would be specially grown. Modified.

The start up company is Qihan Biotech. It has raised $20 million. If successful, the growing of body organs from modified animals will transform medicine.

Last night, Dueling Bartenders. Rick Dery and Terri White performing.

Terri was my date for the evening. Donna is somewhere in the Caribbean on a cruise with a granddaughter.

The town is dead. Very off season. Meaning Aqua was dead last night, also. A mere handful of people.

Afterwards, Terri and I went to dinner at Antonia’s. Nicolle bartending.

We enjoyed ourselves!

Jean and Joe. No longer on a river cruise boat. May return to one later in the trip. Today they are traveling from Amsterdam to Bastogne. Bastogne is in Belgium. The scene of the Battle of the Bulge in World War II. They are traveling by train and then renting a car.

Jean is having trouble using her cell phone to send messages. I could have told her. The U.S. and European systems are totally incompatible. I learned this 12 years ago in Greece.

Jean, my cell phone would not work. However, my lap top did. That is how I was able to do my blog every day.

Yesterday, I mentioned Larry Smith and Christine Cordone were at Woodstock. Last night, I learned Terri White and Rick Dery were also.

I read a Facebook message yesterday sent by an Angela Reynolds. Words of wisdom. She said: “Never lose faith, maybe the woman of your life is not yet born.”

Makes sense. Don’t think it will work for me, however. I am 84!

Amy Culver had a note on Facebook. Said that in the last 2 days she has been in 2 stores where “they had Christmas decorations up. WTF.”

There is a buzz in Key West. Judy Collins will be performing. Still a long way off. February 17. At the Key West Theater.

One problem. Already sold out.

I remember Judy Collins from “Send In The Clowns.”

As Dueling Bartenders was closing down, Lauri Thibaud came in. I guested on her radio show one afternoon a week till I got sick.

I had not seen Lauri in a while. She looked drained. She broke her ankle. Car hit her while she was on her scooter. In typical Key West fashion, the car kept going. Never stopped.

Tonight, my blog talk radio show. Tuesday Talk with Key West Lou. Nine my time. www.blogtalkradio.com/key-west-lou.

I rant and rave. Join me. The show is interesting.

Enjoy your day!

THINK TANK: CHINA COULD QUICKLY OVERWHELM U.S. MILITARY IN ASIA was originally published on Key West Lou

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janiklandre-blog · 8 years ago

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Thursday, March 16, 2017

9:40 a.m. very cold Ken, oh Ken, why did you have to die - once again I'm struggling with this here weird computer - used by the Chinese for their loud movies - I want to get the Asus - it could be ordered on line if we could figure out which model I need - but then it still has to be programmed and I have no one - this get so complicated -

Plaint number one for the day. Plaint number two - roads for cars in perfect condition - I ventured on Third Avenue to 8th Street - good condition - on 8th street an area untouched, later on Second Avenue where the explosion was, half a block untouched, street crossings treacherous - while the cars are happily zooming along

Plaint number three - not a soul to talk to in the morning. I wake up, get up in an empty apartment - and yes, there are lots of peole with house mates they detest who would envy my privacy - still it is a lot more natural to share living space with some one you can talk to. Sometimes talk on my way out to Security (many women stop there at length and pour their hearts out - not very fair to Gloria who has been there since midnight at minimum wage and now may lose the job because management has decided to change agencies - and we have to deal with nothing but new faces) - anyway, Gloria was on her phone. Then I sometimes these days talk a bit to the woman at Moishe's bakery - her family came from the former Yougoslavia - she knows nothing at all about the history of the country, not even where her family came from, she does not talk to her mother, has raised two daughters as a single mother and lives on Lake Hopatcong in New Jersey, a 40 minute drive - and she says, she does not sleep. Sometimes she enjoys me telling her a bit about the country where she was born - but now she has taken to video games.

And this here my house is weird. I think there are ten apartments on my floor - many now occupied by Chinese - one woman doing her exercise walking up and down the hall and telling me long stories in Chinese - I've never been in any one's apartment - have exchanged a few words with a couple of women who I believe are 100 years old - in great shape - zero interest in talking. By now I have talked to half a dozen others - they all hate each other - and I have little to say to them. Yes, this here noisy, overheated apartment has allowed me to stay in Manhattan - now surrounded by people who happily pay $3000 for a strudio - no idea how they all make this kind of money - and so aware of the 3000 people closed waiting list for an apartment in my house - alas, you have to be Chinese to get in - still - most of the half dozen women with whom I exchange a few words call the house a prison and complaints galore - and I must admit, I too, am beginning to feel a yearning for more "normalcy".

There are in New York those normally occuring old age settings - where people moved at a young age into one of the few houses with a decent land lord - best a land lord who also lives in the house - their rents are rent controlled or stabilized - affordable - and they have become friends over the many years, raised kids together - on my block here there is a lovely woman, with a lovely husband - I believe it was her father in law who bought the house when these houses went for the proverbial peanuts, and this here was a high crime area - he was a lawyer and started an organization GOLES Good Old Lower East Side - it still exists - and when he was till alive three generations lived in the house - now his son and daughter in law and a son of their's and his family, lovely young kids - enough room - separate apartments - for everybody and these houses also in their court yards have large gardens - yes, in theory - when Robert an I got married in 1956 we easily could have bought such a house - but instead lived the unwise life that we lived - Robert died, I am still around living in this here government supported housing and our sons fled the city.

The people in Manhattan living in ideal situations are more the exception than the rule. Even on these icy days I find them hovering in corners on the street - countless have fled Manhattan - and of course with Trump who knows what the government will be up to and silently I am counting my days here - already very nostalgic for the city where I've spent close to 60 of my soon 85 years - I do know I would miss the city terribly. Still - I have to be prepared - giving the matter some thought - did not pick up the applications for similar housing in the area where my sons live - tell others "keep dreaming" - while I still am dreaming of conditions of my dreams.

One of my files somewhere in the external drive is called "Laments" - over the years I've gathered a lot of laments. Laments, laments.

In the meantime - yesterday - I did enjoy writing this here blog - appreciated by some, less appreciated by others who tell me they put their laments, plaints, thoughts into private journals that they plan to burn - of course Kafka famously asked for his works to be burned but you better do it yourself, while alive.. I, as one of the great believers in our subconsciousness - thanks to Freud - do see the subconscious around me at work everywhere - and while I am unlikely to see these journals published - I think there is a good chance they will be. I at this point picture most of my still extant writing in a dumpster - with the very unlikely chance of someone climbing into it and finding a treasure trove. So, I am sending this here out happy for the readers it finds - happy for those with the time and inclination for a comment - letting me know they read some of what I wrote - and even found it amusing!

The sun is shining - if only the streets were not so forbidding. Yesterday I ventured out - one of my many medical obligations these days was to get my doctor to certify I am in good health for the upcoming cataract op - she is wonderfully available and I also told her - called and was told come - decided on the bus 103 on block up and stopping outside her office - alas - it rarely comes. I stayed in the street - no way of climbing over the mountain of snow, leaned against a cop car, an SUV - two women cops came - and offered to give me a ride! Does happen more and more often. Came to the doctor's office, no wait, she quickly checked off how healthy I am (other than the dysfunctional gait) - my blood pressure thanks to the pills I believe cost me my teeth fine - and - my heart spiking less than it used to. She had wanted me to see a cardiologist which I never did - some things still seem to repair themselves. We had a nice chat, in 15 minutes I was out, crossed the avenue, a bus came - and in less than an hour I was back to the apartment I am treasuring now in view that I could lose it.

Have a little espresso gizmo for one shot, sweeten it with Irish cream liqueur - eat a couple of cookies and fall fast asleep for an afternoon nap (alas not always) - make a pleasant call, eat some cold cereal with half and half for dinner (not the veggies I do love but only rarely cook and rarely find in the countless restaurants surrounding me - like creamed spinach, that I love - have had a package of chopped spinach in the freezer for a long time - can't quite figure out how to make it tasty) - then my friend came, got her to listen to some of my grievances, not easy, then we watched a Dutch movie Antonia - sweet. The back to the land scenario many of us in the 60's persued - only a few found. I later visited The Farm in Tennessee and have read accounts - of the large numbers who headed there - Stephen W. whom I often mention among them, he took me there in 1988 - a tiny handful have stayed. I also did read tales of horror of farm life in Bavaria - where my father's mother originated - this totally traceless woman today. I know the farm was near Passau, where Hitler was born - but I don't know the name of the village and not the name of a single relative. That farm life was very far from idyllic - my young grandmother headed for Munich, became a waitress and pregnant from my grandfather, the rich dandy from Amsterdam, whose Calvinist mother made him marry her. Also a tale. It's 11. There is the NYT to read. I've cancelled three medical appointments - said I was out of town - tomorrow the optometrist wanted to check if the eye drops I've been clumsily using had any effect - he already wanted me to come last Friday, after he had seen me on Tuesday - and by the way, my doctor yesterday suggested I go for free standard lenses - she says hardly any difference, he only makes a lot more money out of the special ones - in Africa she said they use lenses that cost 3 or 4 dollares - compared to the $1200 for the special ones. Also from Weill Cornell I got a copay bill for $93 - the doctor asserting the neuropathy I already had been told I have - now I wonder how much copay there is on the physiotherapy sessions in unpleasant cramped quarters and I don't do those exercises - hope walking that I enjoy will do some good.

In one phone call a friend told me about her friend who falls each time she goes for physiotherapy - this is in Great Barrington - then doctors call for MRI's, cat scans - of course the nyc doctors pay these sky high rents - my optometrist at 25 Fifth Avenue has two offices across the hall from each other - he must pay a fortune and of course wants to see me as often as he can and charge medicare maximum and me a copay - it all is such a sad racket - but I got to get these cataracts fixed if I want to continue driving, also it will be nice to recognize people in the street again.

Probably I should reschedule with him for next Friday, I don't want to make him angry at me. Tomorrow I hope Molly will come.

I'll venture out at noon today - but more extensive walks risk slipping on ice - and - that can be an unpleasant end - so I may stay at home. There are many things I could do - clean, put some order into much disorder - go through so much of my writing I never read - and on and on - still, I prefer going out. I can go on the roof for some sun. May do that. Adios, Marianne

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