winter and Romanticism

This week we were treated to a performance of Die Winterreise (Schubert's monumental song cycle) by Colleague. For the uninitiated, a song cycle is what a concept album would have been if it was recorded 200 years ago. Die Winterreise means "the winter journey," and it consists of 24 short songs based on a related cycle of poems by the German poet Wilhelm Mueller. There is a lot of snow and ice imagery, and the poems are meant to be understood on at least two levels: a literal journey that the narrator takes through a winter landscape, and the metaphorical winter of his soul as he mourns his lost love and (what else, in a Romantic poem?) Descends Slowly But Inexorably Into Madness. There's a third level of meaning too, as I learned by reading the program notes: the political winter of the Reign of Terror in France and, later, the tyranny of Napoleon, following the "springtime" hope of "Liberte! Egalite! Fraternite!" In other words, whatever close reading you give them, these poems are about D-E-A-T-H.

Musing on this as Colleague was singing, I began to wonder if the students were getting anything out of the concert at all. First of all, many of them have never seen ice that wasn't in a drink. Can they conceive of being cold for months on end? Can they put the images together like we do? Bare winter trees, bleak snow-covered plains, dark shutters rattling in the freezing wind...these are images we cold-climate people take for granted. They're even a little hackneyed. And then there's the French Revolution! These students have never heard of World War I, for heaven's sake!

But luckily for the students (and the rest of us) Schubert really was a master of his craft, and the songs are beautiful and moving even without any textual points of reference at all. Just in case they were trying to find some, though, Colleague provided extensive program notes in English, which one of his students translated into Thai and read aloud. Some highlights:

Regarding the third song:

"The poet stumbles on through the winter landscape, with the hot tears turning to ice on his cheeks. How remarkable, he thinks, that the winter's cold can freeze the tears, rather than the heat of his passionate regret."

Regarding the fifth song:

"He still seems to hear the promise of peace. Is it the peace of the grave? Draw your own conclusions."

Regarding the ninth song:

"All rivers run to the sea, all mortal woe to the grave."

Regarding the eleventh song:

"His dream was of green fields and bird song, but the cock's crow wakened him to the reality of cold and darkness, and the cawing of ravens."

Regarding the twelfth song:

"I drag my way along my lonely road, totally ignored, even as I pass through bright, joyful life."

Regarding the thirteenth song:

"The poet hears a post-horn, and his heart leaps. Why, he wonders. There can be no mail for him."

Regarding the fourteenth song:

"...forcing him to recognize how long it still is before he can expect the peace of death."

Regarding the fifteenth song:

"Are you planning on making a meal of my carcass? It won't be much longer now--so show me an example of loyalty to the grave."

Regarding the sixteenth song:

"As the wind plays with [the last leaf clinging to the tree], I tremble with fear, and, when it falls, I too, collapse on the grave of my hopes."

Regarding the twentieth song:

"I see one signpost in particular, pointing to the road from which no traveler returns."

Regarding the twenty-third song:

"I saw three suns in the sky, and watched fixedly. Ah, you are not my suns--shine on other people. Yes, I too had three suns, but now two have set. Oh, that the third would set too!"

Regarding the twenty-fourth and last song:

"All ignore him, apart from the village dogs, who growl at him."