Subject: [vallist] Goethe's house in Frankfurt (#2)
Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 08:55:27 +0200
From: Michele Vallisneri 
To: vallist@egroups.com

My dear friends,

only my third posting, but already I thought these messages could use a
minor redesign, to make them look less like a (poor man's) periodical
and more like a letter to my friends---for that is what they are! I was
prompted to do this by Filippo, who came back from his vacation, found a
pile of [Vallist]s, and complained about their number, high-browedness
and irrelevance. But for one critic, I had one fan: Alexei Dvoretskii
was so kind to say (about last week's Zanzibar commentary)

<< I did admire your style in writing when I read the account of your
Zanzibar vacation. In fact, I read 'Innocents Abroad' by Mark Twain
recently and that's the first thing that comes to my mind for possible
comparison. >>

Which really made me gloat! Twain happens to be one of my favourite
authors, and you will certainly read more about him and by him in this
list (there is something already in the pipeline about his experience
with the supernatural.) What is more, Alexei awakened an ancient
literary ambition that was lurking deep in my heart... thus, again this
week I am giving you some travel impressions, this time about Germany,
where I happened to spend the last few days.

Regarding my auctorial aspirations, however, I fear I might fit into the
description at

http://www.suck.com/daily/99/08/25/nc_index2.html

Tell me what you think.

Love,

Michele

--> A visit to Frankfurt

This week sees my participation to a physics summer school in Bad
Honnef, Germany. Now, I must confess that I have always held a bias
against this particular country and its inhabitants. In fact, I think
that prejudices are quite healthy: a well-stocked supply of enemies is
necessary to keep one's wit and alertness in good shape. Yet whenever I
get to know my opponents _personally_, I usually find that they are
quite agreeable folks, and that there is often a point to their opinions
even when they contrast with mine; whereas a nice, strong prejudice
prevents me from ever reaching out to these people, and we are all
nastier (to each other) and happier (with ourselves) as a result.

It seems to me that this visit to Germany will weaken my bias somewhat,
and that is a pity. The upside is that I am having a good time in this
land of beer and bratwurst (not a metaphor)! On Saturday I arrived in
Frankfurt's airport, the largest in Europe and possibly the best
organized, and uneventfully transferred to the city; which I visited on
Sunday, before leaving for this hermitage of sorts. Frankfurt is the
economic heart of Germany, but it is also a jolly, bright and cheerful
city. I strolled by the many fine shops, whose windows might have
rivalled Italian displays for composition and taste (I say this with a
grin, because I am thinking about my Mom's default questions, whenever I
come back from one of my wanderings abroad: "But Italian food is better,
right?" and "Can their shopwindows be as nice as ours?")

Unfortunately, though, the Germanic respect for the Sunday rule bears no
exception, and all these nice shops were closed. The only thing my money
could buy was food---for the body and for the mind. I will not comment
on the victuals (appreciate my restraint); regarding intellectual
nourishment instead I do have something interesting to narrate, as on
Sunday morning I had the chance to visit Goethe's home.

It is a neat building painted white and light blue, extending above the
ground for five floors, and looking out to the street through a
multitude of paned windows, so that an aspiring artist (a young
mädchen?) would find in each room a different scene to draw, already
framed within a convenient reference lattice; what is more, the cloudy,
plumbous quality of the glass would conspire to turn the passing
pedestrians into diffused watercolour profiles, or perhaps darkened
India ink figures.

Walking awestruck on the dark, creaking floorboards I admired the
ancient, redolent furniture, distinctly perceiving each piece as an
_individual_ that, rather than furnishing the house, _inhabited_ it. The
huge wardrobes and trunks seemed loyal guardians, intent on safe-keeping
their precious charge; the tall timepiece, ticking away the phases of
the Moon as well as those of the Sun, exuded awareness of the misteries
of cosmic time and of the sad and cheerful hours of human life; the
carved bookshelves were a proud throne to the ample collection of heavy,
self-important tomes.

You know, I tend to think of the centuries preceding ours as times
filled with inconveniency and discomfort; times when people would
retreat to their imperfect houses and sit in the obscurity, trembling in
fearful expectation and fretful uneasiness; just as _I_ would, were I to
be transported right now to a darker, damper and coarser place, where

    my frail constitution would meet daily with the limits of its might,
    my hurting soul peer into nothingness, and recoil in fright.

Instead---I find elegance, and urbanity; dignity, and self-esteem. I
envision animated discussions between spirits that quite unmindful of
their evanescence reach up and beyond, to science and philosophy, and
more: hearts are ready to embrace courtship (with such grace!) as well
as tragedy (with such wholeness!). Conversation is suave, sometimes
ambitiously profound; rhymes and divertissements are confidently
entrusted to the quill, to effloresce beautifully into stunning shapes;
and admiration turns into warmth into fondness into affection into love,
gentle love, assuaging love.

Finally I caught myself looking at the paintings on the walls, and
pondering their true significance. In museums, I always thought of them
as encoded philosophical statements, or as truthful witnesses of past
times and minds; in homes, as objects of beauty and culture. Instead,
the reason why paintings are hung on walls is that they are but
_apparitions_: subtly but profoundly, they can change the ambience of a
room---much as televisions do today, albeit in a trivial and disjointed
way.

Imagine sitting down to dine, among the fine portraits of your
ancestors; what heightened perception of your heritage, of the "river of
souls" that descended into you! What silent affinity with those
familiar, foregone semblances! Or think how inspiring must have been
committing to reading and writing by the flickering light of a candle,
while a masterful Odilon Redon fills the twilight with the power and
reality of its vision!

What visions will I find coming back to my room in Parma? A painting by
a less known Enlightenment artist, depicting the ascent of the first hot
air balloon: I think I chose it because it communicates an unwavering
and enthusiastic faith in Reason, our helm through the adventurous
enterprise of mankind. Then a rough, foamy seascape by Winslow Homer,
exhorting me to live with passion, and let myself be carried by the
waves.

My Californian home still needs to be populated with colour; right now
only the portrait of a sweetly smiling Elisa awaits the nearing moment
of my return, with a message that is only mine to read.

--> The humour corner: more wisdom from the (science) classroom

Regarding last week's "wrinkled pigs" student misapprehension, Kola
commented that

<< the exam howlers are either urban myths or genuine but very old -
they are reprinted each year in the newspapers here as 'the latest
errors' even though they were the same last year. >>

To say the truth, I had a string of those, and I was ready to send them
out to you during the next few weeks... Now instead I selected the very
best, which you will find below, and this will end the story. I provided
a title for each, but did not touch them otherwise.

                           Back to Africa...

"Equator: A managerie lion running around the Earth through Africa."

                  No science is without its politics.

"Nitrogen is not found in Ireland because it is not found in a free
state."

                   The fine chemistry of bartending.

"Water is composed of two gins, Oxygin and Hydrogin. Oxygin is pure gin.
Hydrogin is gin and water."

                    The beauty of the humany body...

"The body consists of three parts--the brainium, the borax and the
abominable cavity. The brainium contains the brain, the borax contains
the heart and lungs, and the abominable cavity contains the bowls, of
which there are five--a, e, i, o, and u."

                        Extreme medical remedies.

"To remove dust from the eye, pull the eye down over the nose." "To
prevent contraception: wear a condominium." "For fainting: rub the
person's chest or, if a lady, rub her arm above the hand instead. Or put
the head between the knees of the nearest medical doctor."

                    --------------------------------

   ("The Vallist" #2; Parma and Bad Honnef, Germany, August 28, 1999)