Friday Frivolity no. 6: The Everlasting Yea

saying "yes" to life // Goethe's unrequited love // Beethoven's Eroica

Jul 19, 2024

Galileo Chini, *Canal in Bangkok* (1912)

For we who are dreamers, life—real life—is either an inconvenience or an eternal waiting room. It is an inconvenience because it snatches us rudely away from our beautiful dream worlds, stealing away precious minutes that could have been spent there in that land of gossamer and fairies’ wings; it is an eternal waiting room because somehow we hold onto the hope that whatever we dream will materialize in actuality, that our castles in the air will come down from the clouds and settle into the landscape that really lies before us, complete with a path, smoothly paved, leading straight to our feet.

Sooner or later, and generally rudely, we learn that the castles must remain where they are, for they are substanceless as the clouds themselves, and that life cannot be swatted away like a fly. However vividly we seek to imagine the days ahead of us, however bright the colors we impart to these painted scenes, however well-written the dialogue we have scripted for ourselves and our chimerical costars, we know that the real directress of the whole affair is that goddess Chance, who flits here and there on slippered feet, slipping between the cracks in our numbered days to have her fun and do her mischief. If she giggles, why, then, must we weep?

Behind a face we trust, there may lie any amount of deceit and villainy; behind a human smile, something quite monstrous; behind a cowering form, a depth of inner strength; behind an unkind word, a heart that yearns to be tender. So many things remain beyond our grasp and outside of our knowledge, and life keeps them as a continual drawer of surprises. Both good and bad come unpredictably, no matter how much we try to exert our agency upon situations or simply wish our ideal outcomes into being.

Caspar David Friedrich, *Wanderer above a Sea of Fog* (1818)

In Thomas Carlyle’s Sartor Resartus, a character referred to as the Editor reviews a fictional book by the German philosopher Diogenes Teufelsdröckh (“God-born Devil’s-dung”), who is a professor of “Things in General” at Weissnichtwo (“Know not where”) University. The Editor gives us Teufelsdröckh’s biography; in his youth, the philosopher falls in love with the lovely Blumine, for whom he abandons his teaching post, but she rejects him for their mutual friend, the British aristocrat Towgood. In response, Teufelsdröckh rejects life itself. Wandering the countryside, he sinks abjectly into the “Everlasting No” and envelops himself in the “Centre of Indifference.”

Nevertheless, a spark emerges, and Teufelsdröckh has the inkling that “the meaning of Life itself [is] no other than Freedom, than Voluntary Force.” Whatever foundation there is for meaning, it lies not in “Happiness” but in “Blessedness.” We should thank destiny for the “manifold merciful Afflictions,” for “the Self in thee needed to be annihilated.” Only then do we learn that we are not “engulphed” by “the roaring billows of Time” but instead “borne aloft into the azure of Eternity.” For Teufelsdröckh and for Carlyle, “This is the Everlasting Yea, wherein all contradiction is solved.”

Sometimes it is good to take a novelist’s approach to life. Keep one foot in the rushing torrent, continually washed by the pure stream of feeling that tumbles ever onwards; keep the other on dry land, firmly planted. With the heart, feel earnestly; with the eye, survey the scene from afar. Experienced fully, everything is interesting; everything is beautiful; everything is imbued with some magic beyond what you are capable of understanding; everything is part of the unique tale which is being ever woven out of days which are yours and yours alone. Take life lightly—ride the vicissitudes—for it will all be over before you know it.

Mood Board of the Week

This mood board makes me feel calm, happy, and at peace, and reminds me that there is so much beauty and magic and purity in the world.

(top to bottom, left to right)

Yanque Lake, China, posted by petitworld on Tumblr—This picture reminds me so much of Monet’s beloved water lilies. So much beauty and serenity here. Speaking of Monet, I recently loved reading this article on his work by
Nicole Miras
.
Claude Monet, Water Lilies (c. 1906). Art Institute of Chicago
Igshaan Adams, Lynloop (2024)—This work of textile art is currently on exhibition at the ICA in Boston and takes up the whole of the Sandra and Gerald Fineberg Art Wall, culminating in lovely pink cloud-curls that hang from the ceiling. It was so mesmerizing to look at Lynloop up close and see the sparkles and the various textures and to realize there were actually different colors of beads. Adams grew up in South Africa, and his tapestries work with the legacy of apartheid, drawing on childhood memories to reflect on their impact on one’s life path. “I’m interested in the personal stories recorded on the surface. What is recorded is not necessarily always a factual account but can be what is imagined—a combination of myth-making and meaning-making.”1 You can view more of his work here.
Johann Friedrich August Tischbein, Amalie von Levetzow (1803)—Amalie von Levetzow was a German noblewoman born in 1788. This portrait was painted a few months before 15-year-old Amalie married 26-year-old Joachim Otto Ulrich von Levetzow, with whom she had two daughters. They divorced, and she went on to marry his cousin, with whom she had another daughter. Amalie and her daughters visited the spa town of Marienbad in 1821, and there they met the great writer Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, whose doctors had prescribed him the spa’s mineral waters for his health. Goethe was 72, and his wife Christiane had died five years earlier. At Marienbad, he fell in love with Amalie’s 17-year-old daughter Ulrike and asked Grand Duke Karl August of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach to ask for her hand in marriage on his behalf. Ulrike rejected him, inspiring several poems, including the famous “Marienbad Elegy.”
Mother and daughter: Amalia von Levetzow by Johann Friedrich August Tischbein in 1803 and Ulrike von Levetzow in 1821, via Wikipedia.
Giovanni Giacometti, Summer Morning (1917)—Giovanni Giacometti tends to be overshadowed by his more famous son, the sculptor Alberto Giacometti. Over the course of his career, Giacometti’s style evolved through a variety of post-Impressionist techniques but always retained a wonderful sensitivity to bright and luminous color. “In the confines—the narrow confines—of my mountains, these pictures were created,” he stated in a 1930 catalogue of his work. “The struggle with light is the mainspring of my work….”2
Giovanni Giacometti (clockwise): Frühling im Bergell (1912); Grevasalvas (1927); Annetta (1911); Alberto Reading (1914). Via Wikimedia Commons.
Rose Lychee cake from Twinkle Baker Décor—I keep seeing adorable baked goods everywhere on social media, and it makes me wish that baking were not such a chaotic experience for me! Then I could do finicky things, probably, like make gradients of frosting or arrange gold leaf and dried flower petals in exact patterns.
more adorable cakes from Twinkle Baker Décor
Karl Nordström, A Glimpse of the Ocean (1911)—Karl Nordström was a Swedish painter who lived from 1855 to 1923. Coincidentally enough, his birthday was the day before I started writing this little section about him! I love his landscapes—in a way his style reminds me a bit of Giovanni Giacometti’s (above).

Karl Nordström: Kyrkesund (1911); Storm Clouds (1893). Via Wikimedia Commons.

Elsa Schiaparelli dress in Biennale di Firenze - Art/Fashion—Elsa Schiaparelli (1890–1973) was a surrealist fashion designer who collaborated with artists such as Salvador Dalí and Jean Cocteau. One of her most famous designs (pictured here) uses a Cocteau optical illusion of two faces kissing: look at the space between the faces, and it’s a flower vase. If everyone walked around wearing her designs, think how fun the world would be!

1938 coat designed by Elsa Schiaparelli, at the V&A.

Kuju Flower Park by astrailor_jp on Instagram—This flower park is located at the base of the Kuju Mountains in Japan; Kuju Mountain is one of the 100 Famous Japanese Mountains. This colorful, floral abundance reminds me so much of Molly’s monologue in Ulysses: “I love flowers Id love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven theres nothing like nature.”3
Christian Lacroix Spring/Summer 1998 Couture—Christian Lacroix is known for his luxurious, voluminous, fantasy confections. Interestingly enough, throughout its history, the fashion house never turned a profit; however, when it comes to opulence and theatricality, no one is better.
Christian Lacroix S/S 1998 Couture

3 Things I’m in Love With This Week

Understanding Shakespeare on JSTOR—If you are a Shakespeare nerd like me, this is such a great resource. It allows you to highlight any line(s) from his plays and then looks them up on JSTOR to bring up every article in which those lines are mentioned. I’ve been ending up on here just for fun in the evenings, and let me tell you, downloading PDFs has never been so addictive.
Neptune To and Fro Bag by Danica Studio—My parents bought this for me two weekends ago when we all went to the ICA together, and it brought so much brightness and cheer to my life during a difficult period. The colors and design are so beautiful, and it’ll always remind me of the way my parents rallied around me and made me feel so held and comforted.
Summer concerts at Tanglewood—A couple of weeks ago our family drove to Lenox, Massachusetts in order to catch Opening Night with the BSO! Hilary Hahn, my favorite violinist, was initially to play, but sadly she had a pinched nerve and withdrew. Fortunately, Gil Shaham came to the rescue, and he performed Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D so wonderfully and captivatingly. It was beautiful to see the darkness settle in the trees behind the Shed as he played. An intermission; night; then the BSO picked up with Beethoven’s “Eroica” Symphony (Symphony no. 3 in E-flat major). It was really a very joyous selection of pieces, and even though they’re so familiar there’s a danger the music will go into one ear and right out the other, they were played (and conducted by Andris Nelsons) in a fresh, flexible way that compelled attention. Larry Wallach wrote a great review of this performance in The Berkshire Edge, pointing out that “Beethoven’s greatness… relies on an almost mathematical sense of pulsation and correct rhythmic proportion.” For me, a first time Tanglewooder, I also was very impressed by how helpful the staff were and how well-organized the parking and logistics. It doesn’t cost much to sit on the lawn—actually a great option for lovely summer days—and for $7 you can also rent a folding chair, so if you’re in the area you should definitely try to experience it! We already have plans to go again!

Words of Wisdom

“Nature doesn’t disdain what lives only for a day. It pours the whole of itself into each moment.”

—Tom Stoppard, Shipwreck

Poetry Corner

A Clear Midnight

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.

—Walt Whitman