“Where did you find such a young man?” she demanded. “How was such a small, plain little thing like you able to ensorcell him into marriage?”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” was Wolfgang’s reply, an answer that endeared him to Mother’s churchgoing sensibilities, but unfortunately distanced him from Constanze’s rather heretical ones.
“Pah,” she said. “He is not one of Der Erlk?nig’s own, I see.”
“Alas, no,” he replied. “I am my own, I’m afraid.”
Everyone looked at me as though I were mad as I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Our small, provincial village was just as shocked as Constanze to find me returned with a husband, and perhaps none more so than Herr Baumg?rtner. I confess to feeling a measure of petty satisfaction to note how much more handsome than Hans my Wolfgang is, even as I know that is beneath me. I give you permission to tease me about it later, K?the. I know.
I paid our respects to Papa’s grave in the old church cemetery. The old rector is gone, vanished from his bed last winter with nothing but poppies left in his wake. I noted another headstone beside our father’s as we left, new to me, but old and weathered as though it had been there for years.
Franz Josef Gottlieb Vogler
Gone Too Soon
I left a poppy behind.
Tomorrow I shall venture to the Goblin Grove one last time with our offerings. The locks of hair from you and Fran?ois have thankfully survived the journey, and I shall bury them in the grove. And then, as the sun sets in the west on the first night of summer, I shall play Der Erlk?nig upon my new violin. Wolfgang had it refinished with the finial of the carved woman that had been in our family for generations as a wedding gift. I can’t believe you and Fran?ois found it in your dressing room.
When I was younger, I could not decide whether the woman’s face was one of agony or ecstasy, but now that I am grown, I understand her expression for what it is:
Joy.
I have not heard word of the Procházkas since we departed Vienna, but rumor is that Snovin Hall is overgrown. Sometimes I think of that blue-green lake hidden in the hills above their estate and wonder.
We shall return once the sale of the inn is final. Mother has been beside herself with excitement to see you again, and even Constanze seems eager to leave this place behind.
“The place is full of so many ghosts,” she said. “And I cannot rest for their relentless chatter.”
The villagers think she has lost her mind, but I understand better now how our grandmother thinks. Those of us with one foot Underground and one in the world above are ever privy to the uncanny and unseen. Is that madness? Or merely another way of being?
Give my love to Fran?ois. Tell him I look forward to how the troupe has staged the opera when we return, and how much I have appreciated his guidance and his tutelage on the writing and composition. The story was mine to tell, but the music was a work of collaboration.
Before we leave, Wolfgang insists we debut the Wedding Night Sonata for the villagers, so they might have something to remember us by.
“So they understand the whole of you, Elisabeth,” he told me. “So they understand the entirety of us.”
I don’t know what the butcher and baker will think of the music, but I fancy they’ll enjoy a performance nonetheless. The ending of the Wedding Night Sonata keeps changing, and I imagine it will change still further, on and on and on until I die. But that is the way of a life’s work, and I am happy to keep composing, to keep writing, until I find the right finale.
One last thing before I end my letter. I know you would rather have me keep the wolf’s-head ring, or at least have it appraised for its value. But in the end, a promise is without price. When I step into the Goblin Grove for the last time, I will leave it for our brother, along with your locks of hair and our love.
Yours always,
Composer of Der Erlk?nig
Where I am, you are with me.
— LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN, the Immortal Beloved letters
once there was a little girl who played her music for a little boy in the wood. She was the genius, he was the interpreter, and they were each the gardeners of the other’s heart, taming, tilling, and tending the fertile soil of their souls until they blossomed into a far-reaching forest that encompassed the world.
Their grandmother had taught them the old ways and the old laws, but the little girl and boy were not afraid, for they were both Der Erlk?nig’s own.
Don’t forget me, Liesl.
And the little girl did not reply. Instead she played her song for the Goblin King every spring, every year, to bring the world from death back into life. And when the little girl’s gnarled and aged fingers could no longer hold her bow, her children and students picked up her song and continued to play, one long, unbroken melody that stretched across time and memory. On and on and on, for as long as the seasons turn and the living remember all that is good and beautiful and worthwhile in the world.
For love is our only immortality, and when memory is faded and gone, it is our legacies that endure.
A GUIDE TO NAMES AND TITLES
CONSTANZE: Kohn-STANTS-eh
DER ERLK?NIG: Dere ERRL-keu-nikh
ELISABETH: eh-LEE-za-bet
JOSEF: YO-sef
K?THE: KEI-teh
LIESL: LEE-sul
MAHIEU: MAY-yew
MEIN HERR: Mine Hehrr
PROCHáZKA: pro-(k)HASS-ka
SEPPERL: SEPP-url
SNOVIN: SNO-vin
VL?EK: VLI-chek
A GUIDE TO GERMAN PHRASES
AUF WIEDERSEHEN: Owf VEE-der-zayn—Until we meet again DANKE: DAHN-keh—Thank you
FR?ULEIN: FROI-line—Miss, maiden, a form of address GROSCHEN: GROH-shen—A unit of currency H?DEKIN: HU-deh-kin—A sort of sprite, similar to the British brownie or pixie KAPELLMEISTER: Kah-PELL-mai-ster—The highest position in a nobleman’s orchestra, the person responsible for finding and producing new music and directing productions, as well as conducting and playing
L?NDLER: LEND-ler—A folk dance MEIN BRüDERCHEN: Mine BREW-der-khen—My little brother VIEL GLüCK: FEEL GLYOOK—Good luck ZWEIFACHER: ZVAI-fahkh-er—A folk dance
A GUIDE TO MUSICAL TERMS
ADAGIO: A tempo marking meaning a piece should be played slowly
BASSO CONTINUO: The bass line or accompaniment to the melody in a piece CHACONNE: A short composition, often with a repetitive bass line, used as a vehicle for variation; can also be a sort of warm-up or exercise for a musician CONCERTO: A piece of music written for a solo instrument to be accompanied by an orchestra DECRESCENDO: A musical term indicating that the phrase should be played with increasing softness
éCOSSAISE: Originally a Scottish dance, a short, lively piece that accompanies a social dance (like a waltz) éTUDE: A short musical composition written for a solo instrument, usually of considerable difficulty in order to practice various technical skills FERMATA: A musical notation indicating a note should be held longer than its usual duration F-HOLES: The holes on the body of a violin, shaped like the letter f
FORTEPIANO: A precursor to the modern piano