Post by Austria on May 4, 2013 18:14:36 GMT -5
30th of November, 1866, Vienna
It was the at crack of dawn on Friday in the frosty November, the prime season for lost souls to venture into Vienna Woods for a purifying experience; Roderich would have wandered by if he were to travel westward towards Frankfurt, but the city was no longer held symbolic significance to him, and consequently, one of the very few justifications to travel west had also been lost. A calm and intense breeze wafted through him, like a busy traveler rushing by towards the southeast, as the coachman bowed politely and opened the coach door for him outside Reichskanzleitrakt. His new foreign minister, or more intimately, his adviser, was already present, making a strenuous effort to use the dim light of morning through the narrow windows for book reading. Upon Roderich's entry, Graf von Beust hastily placed his book away and rose, bowing down deeply and taking the former's hand.
This ceremonial gesture from the newly appointed minister might have made Roderich felt better about himself, yet it did not completely alleviate the Austrian's morning symptoms. Making up at five o'clock in the dawn was usually mandatory, not voluntary, unless for critical surprise attacks on the battlefield. He had no clue how monks and nuns managed to rise at dawn all days of the year to prepare for meals, nor he had an intense interest to understand or experience the lifestyle - he could barely manage nothing more than a polite smile for now.
As soon as the Chancellerie of Hungary, György Majláth, also the messenger to Vienna to express potential for further negotiation, entered the coach, the coachmen began the journey upon confirmation. The snow was heavy and was not yet melted; it was projected that the temperature in the early afternoon would be sufficient to clear the snow, but for the time being, horses must flounder through the journey, and must find their ways through the darkness. He would have lingered in this world of white darkness until being forced out.
During the first half of the journey, thoughts and opinions on current politics, like a natural language of its own rights, were exchanged in good temper. Although yet not accustomed to Schönbrunner German, Graf von Beust was keen in learning and adopting the speech as his current class deserved him to be, and such passion and energy for the service of a country he was stranger to made Roderich felt unusually relieved, particularly after the long exchange of political philosophy and ideals last night over wine. Herr Majláth, on the other hand, might not be the best travel companion, but nonetheless a man of good spirits, sharing the stories of his retirement from public during the revolution, and the factors impacting him to return to the public.
Suffering in nausea dated back from July, Roderich opted to propose challenging questions for the two ministers to answer, among many: 'What would be the reaction of minority groups should the frustrated German Liberals in Vienna protest and drive the Extraordinary Reichsrat away in which they had significantly less German representation from Bohemia and Moravia, assuming all diets were free to elect deputies by majority vote?' The question might not be the best scenario to emulate, nevertheless the ministers spent a good hour providing clear and detailed answers, to the point where the Graf grew excited and incidentally flung off his wine stained handkerchief through the window, thus had kept Roderich very contended and entertained.
The last half of the journey was spent on personal conversation and daydreaming, a nonchalant phenomenon when Roderich attempted to place himself to rest. It was ten o'clock, the horses were stumbling and he felt defensive. He glanced at Graf von Beust, whom smiled back in a good humour, reflecting an opposite expression the Austrian witnessed last night - the minister in wrath at his crimson chambers during his private audience.
Roderich had not told him what he did not necessitate to know in regards to his private life, but Graf von Beust, with great intuition and grief deep inside his heart to the nation's surprise, knelt before him and shook the immortal's body, pledging his allegiance and desiring Roderich to agree upon his all terms his Monarch agreed upon for dualism without regards to his unwillingness, for the purpose of a grand staged revenge, resembling that of Seven Years' War a century ago, could be materialised.
Love does not abate hatred; if anything, love only adds fuel to the fire of enmity. A reached compromise meant nothing but two parties disinclined to continue yielding; a signed treaty meant nothing but a piece of paper contract to be broken, even less sacred than the outdated, restrictive Lex Salica. They were reconciled in the name of business, but he was not entirely certain whether completely forgiving Gilbert Beilschmidt would be a possible task, albeit knowing clearly that war would inevitably break out, and most affairs that bore their name were, ironically, out of their control. Self-loathing was a crucial element of this complicated sentiment as well, for the alienation he created to be isolated from others, and for the traditional and titular power he failed to recognise as an absolute vanity.
Roderich did not readily offer a direct response for Graf von Beust; he promised, however, that a firm approval or disapproval could be given if he would be permitted private allotment of time to discuss and negotiate the matters personally between himself and Elizaveta prior to the conference in Buda Castle. A gentleman could be sagaciously forgiving trivial matters, but he could not simply forget the unfaithful backstabbing received during his critical danger from a certain lady who did not know her place, after demanding privileges over privileges, castles to be rebuilt over and over with imperial wealth, despite being the conquered subject graciously saved from the depredation of Islam... And he would not accept more personal demands from Elizabeth that he was personally not comfortable with.
Feeling fatigue in his eyes, Roderich took off his glasses and massaged his eyes gently, leaving the book on the empty space next to him; it was a book on economics which he imported from Great Britain for his library's collection. Looking out the window, he gazed at the undeveloped landscape outside Bicske; the temperature had, indeed, risen enough to dissolve the snow, but still not enough to repel the heavy cloud of dust. Along one side of the road were deciduous grey trees misplaced at the borders of deserted land invaded by yellow, withering weeds, and on the other side was some farming communities with no crops to be seen on the fields, a portion of it also invaded by wild plants, or the remains of revolution. No one else was outside, no living being was under the grey, heavy sky. He could not but admit to himself that he did not full attention to the landscape outside the coach during his very few business trips to Hungary, as he often had no desire to go, and if he was forced to, would rather paid attention to music scores and legal documents that he found more vainly amusing.
As much as he might mock upon the spiritless landscape by comparing to the Alps, he must also admit that he did not acquire knowledge of Hungary which he was supposed to be, and was in the disadvantage side for bargaining. He was paradoxical. He criticised others without reservation, then realised that he deserved no right or power to judge others, and by over thinking, history repeated itself.
The Graf still appeared to expectant, and this anticipation grew even more evident as Herr Majláth finally fell asleep in content because they could see the Biscke castle close by, indicating that they were less than an hour away from Buda.
Returning his attention to the silent box, he inquired the minister casually, "Are you much acquainted with Abbé Liszt's music, sir?"
"Oh! Yes, most definitely, my lord, I must confess that I suffer a vast deal of Lisztomania," replied the minister with great passion, "I also find myself enjoying the composition of waltz, if you don't min-"
"I am very glad to hear," Roderich interrupted him politely and the Graf looked very dejected, "that you would be able to understand the metaphor I am about to employ. You inquired me the disposition of the Hungarian lady last night, which I was unable to answer due to drowsiness. Here is the answer, albeit my personal observation is biased, and you must make adjustment of your own."
He took off his glove, letting his hand rest upon the window frame, feeling the crispy air freezing his hand. Hungaria would most likely receive him coldly.
"Chirpiness and bluntness are the qualities she currently possesses, and breaking free into the wild without reservation is what she aspires to. At the end, it is rhapsodic, an imagination, a daydream that might have materialised easier if she were a man. Her femininity is German trained, from the very beginning; the elegance and brilliance only present in the Viennese court makes her feel constrained..."
"She attempts to break free, destroying the high culture implanted in her heart, but ultimately she strives for beauty, whether feminine or masculine, and resorts to seek for the tradition and grandeur she finds restrictive, willingly or unwillingly. Even for elements from aristocrats that she deems Hungarian, it has inescapably been German dominated. It cannot be helped."
The minister, brightened up by this response, looked out the window frame, noting the magnificent Buda castle that Emperor Franz Joseph had told him about. He resorted to thinking before inquiring,
"Would this be more of her Majesty's personal narrative?"
"Oh, yes, I hope you did not have an awful time acquainting with her," Roderich returned with more good-humoured laugh, "they are very alike."
The Hofburg inspired interior and furniture in the waiting room of Buda Castle had proved more than enough to explain to Graf von Beust where did Roderich's rationale originate from. Thanks to an early departure, they arrived a quarter-hour earlier than than the engagement, waiting with stomachs faint and empty. Roderich advised the two aged men to find themselves some bread, while he remained to wait for Ferenc Deák and Elizaveta, in the castle that resembled more of an Austrian legacy than a Hungarian one.
Roderich's observation explained:
Liszt: he was of German ancestry, but identified as Hungarian. His piano style and skills were Viennese trained and influenced (Carl Czerny). He inherently loved running-wild improvisation. and he also loved adding Hungarian elements into his music, but after the wild chords and jumps and crazy runs in his music, it usually returns to some very German-melodic, elegant, feminine lines (those very pretty, fairy-like trills in particular). And yes, I am talking about Hungarian Rhapsody composed in 1847. That applies to Liebestraum and Hungaria, the symphonic poem he got inspiration from the 1848 revolution.
Empress Elisabeth: Born as a Bavarian duchess, she grew up in an environment with little to no restriction. She tried to break free from the strict Viennese court life by becoming more Hungarian, but her ties was still a German one, and could not completely become independent.
Seeing the remains of revolution in the field -> getting reminded of Liszt's poem -> remembering the pattern of his life -> applying it to Elizaveta/Elisabeth. That's basically the logic here.
And the reason why the Count felt happy when Roderich told him his observation was because, he felt that Roderich was implying that he was in favour of the dualism solution because he said Hungary would be unable to entirely break free. Roderich really didn't mean it, though.
Backstabbing: During Austro-Prussian war, Prussia invited Hungary to backstab Austria.... so bad.... it was horrible...
....which brings up Roderich's candid view of Elizaveta:
He does not necessarily hate her, nor does he like her either. Subjugating her had been Roderich's purpose of life until 1540~1700s, when he really became strong as a manin puberty. You can say that Roderich obviously dislikes Elizaveta and sees her not as in individual, but as an enemy / group of crazy people until Sadik screwed her over, such that he feels an chivalry obligation to save her, finally seeing her as a maiden human being (hey, Renaissance played a great role). Though she had been ungrateful all the time except during Seven years war, which she was a great help....
Sounds paradoxical / complicated, right? In short, Roderich has had a hard time trying to see / accept Elizaveta as a companion until she has been treated as equal. It takes time for him to develop positive feelings for her, so please be patient.
It is up to you to decide whether Elizaveta is aware of Roderich's apathetic (insert other negative adjective) attitude for her. I have no control over female's innate sensitivity for emotions.
I would explain a bit further if I get to develop the theme of Winterreise later. Fun fact: the poet who composed Winterreise's poem was a Prussian.
It was the at crack of dawn on Friday in the frosty November, the prime season for lost souls to venture into Vienna Woods for a purifying experience; Roderich would have wandered by if he were to travel westward towards Frankfurt, but the city was no longer held symbolic significance to him, and consequently, one of the very few justifications to travel west had also been lost. A calm and intense breeze wafted through him, like a busy traveler rushing by towards the southeast, as the coachman bowed politely and opened the coach door for him outside Reichskanzleitrakt. His new foreign minister, or more intimately, his adviser, was already present, making a strenuous effort to use the dim light of morning through the narrow windows for book reading. Upon Roderich's entry, Graf von Beust hastily placed his book away and rose, bowing down deeply and taking the former's hand.
This ceremonial gesture from the newly appointed minister might have made Roderich felt better about himself, yet it did not completely alleviate the Austrian's morning symptoms. Making up at five o'clock in the dawn was usually mandatory, not voluntary, unless for critical surprise attacks on the battlefield. He had no clue how monks and nuns managed to rise at dawn all days of the year to prepare for meals, nor he had an intense interest to understand or experience the lifestyle - he could barely manage nothing more than a polite smile for now.
As soon as the Chancellerie of Hungary, György Majláth, also the messenger to Vienna to express potential for further negotiation, entered the coach, the coachmen began the journey upon confirmation. The snow was heavy and was not yet melted; it was projected that the temperature in the early afternoon would be sufficient to clear the snow, but for the time being, horses must flounder through the journey, and must find their ways through the darkness. He would have lingered in this world of white darkness until being forced out.
During the first half of the journey, thoughts and opinions on current politics, like a natural language of its own rights, were exchanged in good temper. Although yet not accustomed to Schönbrunner German, Graf von Beust was keen in learning and adopting the speech as his current class deserved him to be, and such passion and energy for the service of a country he was stranger to made Roderich felt unusually relieved, particularly after the long exchange of political philosophy and ideals last night over wine. Herr Majláth, on the other hand, might not be the best travel companion, but nonetheless a man of good spirits, sharing the stories of his retirement from public during the revolution, and the factors impacting him to return to the public.
Suffering in nausea dated back from July, Roderich opted to propose challenging questions for the two ministers to answer, among many: 'What would be the reaction of minority groups should the frustrated German Liberals in Vienna protest and drive the Extraordinary Reichsrat away in which they had significantly less German representation from Bohemia and Moravia, assuming all diets were free to elect deputies by majority vote?' The question might not be the best scenario to emulate, nevertheless the ministers spent a good hour providing clear and detailed answers, to the point where the Graf grew excited and incidentally flung off his wine stained handkerchief through the window, thus had kept Roderich very contended and entertained.
The last half of the journey was spent on personal conversation and daydreaming, a nonchalant phenomenon when Roderich attempted to place himself to rest. It was ten o'clock, the horses were stumbling and he felt defensive. He glanced at Graf von Beust, whom smiled back in a good humour, reflecting an opposite expression the Austrian witnessed last night - the minister in wrath at his crimson chambers during his private audience.
Roderich had not told him what he did not necessitate to know in regards to his private life, but Graf von Beust, with great intuition and grief deep inside his heart to the nation's surprise, knelt before him and shook the immortal's body, pledging his allegiance and desiring Roderich to agree upon his all terms his Monarch agreed upon for dualism without regards to his unwillingness, for the purpose of a grand staged revenge, resembling that of Seven Years' War a century ago, could be materialised.
Love does not abate hatred; if anything, love only adds fuel to the fire of enmity. A reached compromise meant nothing but two parties disinclined to continue yielding; a signed treaty meant nothing but a piece of paper contract to be broken, even less sacred than the outdated, restrictive Lex Salica. They were reconciled in the name of business, but he was not entirely certain whether completely forgiving Gilbert Beilschmidt would be a possible task, albeit knowing clearly that war would inevitably break out, and most affairs that bore their name were, ironically, out of their control. Self-loathing was a crucial element of this complicated sentiment as well, for the alienation he created to be isolated from others, and for the traditional and titular power he failed to recognise as an absolute vanity.
Roderich did not readily offer a direct response for Graf von Beust; he promised, however, that a firm approval or disapproval could be given if he would be permitted private allotment of time to discuss and negotiate the matters personally between himself and Elizaveta prior to the conference in Buda Castle. A gentleman could be sagaciously forgiving trivial matters, but he could not simply forget the unfaithful backstabbing received during his critical danger from a certain lady who did not know her place, after demanding privileges over privileges, castles to be rebuilt over and over with imperial wealth, despite being the conquered subject graciously saved from the depredation of Islam... And he would not accept more personal demands from Elizabeth that he was personally not comfortable with.
Feeling fatigue in his eyes, Roderich took off his glasses and massaged his eyes gently, leaving the book on the empty space next to him; it was a book on economics which he imported from Great Britain for his library's collection. Looking out the window, he gazed at the undeveloped landscape outside Bicske; the temperature had, indeed, risen enough to dissolve the snow, but still not enough to repel the heavy cloud of dust. Along one side of the road were deciduous grey trees misplaced at the borders of deserted land invaded by yellow, withering weeds, and on the other side was some farming communities with no crops to be seen on the fields, a portion of it also invaded by wild plants, or the remains of revolution. No one else was outside, no living being was under the grey, heavy sky. He could not but admit to himself that he did not full attention to the landscape outside the coach during his very few business trips to Hungary, as he often had no desire to go, and if he was forced to, would rather paid attention to music scores and legal documents that he found more vainly amusing.
As much as he might mock upon the spiritless landscape by comparing to the Alps, he must also admit that he did not acquire knowledge of Hungary which he was supposed to be, and was in the disadvantage side for bargaining. He was paradoxical. He criticised others without reservation, then realised that he deserved no right or power to judge others, and by over thinking, history repeated itself.
The Graf still appeared to expectant, and this anticipation grew even more evident as Herr Majláth finally fell asleep in content because they could see the Biscke castle close by, indicating that they were less than an hour away from Buda.
Returning his attention to the silent box, he inquired the minister casually, "Are you much acquainted with Abbé Liszt's music, sir?"
"Oh! Yes, most definitely, my lord, I must confess that I suffer a vast deal of Lisztomania," replied the minister with great passion, "I also find myself enjoying the composition of waltz, if you don't min-"
"I am very glad to hear," Roderich interrupted him politely and the Graf looked very dejected, "that you would be able to understand the metaphor I am about to employ. You inquired me the disposition of the Hungarian lady last night, which I was unable to answer due to drowsiness. Here is the answer, albeit my personal observation is biased, and you must make adjustment of your own."
He took off his glove, letting his hand rest upon the window frame, feeling the crispy air freezing his hand. Hungaria would most likely receive him coldly.
"Chirpiness and bluntness are the qualities she currently possesses, and breaking free into the wild without reservation is what she aspires to. At the end, it is rhapsodic, an imagination, a daydream that might have materialised easier if she were a man. Her femininity is German trained, from the very beginning; the elegance and brilliance only present in the Viennese court makes her feel constrained..."
"She attempts to break free, destroying the high culture implanted in her heart, but ultimately she strives for beauty, whether feminine or masculine, and resorts to seek for the tradition and grandeur she finds restrictive, willingly or unwillingly. Even for elements from aristocrats that she deems Hungarian, it has inescapably been German dominated. It cannot be helped."
The minister, brightened up by this response, looked out the window frame, noting the magnificent Buda castle that Emperor Franz Joseph had told him about. He resorted to thinking before inquiring,
"Would this be more of her Majesty's personal narrative?"
"Oh, yes, I hope you did not have an awful time acquainting with her," Roderich returned with more good-humoured laugh, "they are very alike."
The Hofburg inspired interior and furniture in the waiting room of Buda Castle had proved more than enough to explain to Graf von Beust where did Roderich's rationale originate from. Thanks to an early departure, they arrived a quarter-hour earlier than than the engagement, waiting with stomachs faint and empty. Roderich advised the two aged men to find themselves some bread, while he remained to wait for Ferenc Deák and Elizaveta, in the castle that resembled more of an Austrian legacy than a Hungarian one.
Roderich's observation explained:
Liszt: he was of German ancestry, but identified as Hungarian. His piano style and skills were Viennese trained and influenced (Carl Czerny). He inherently loved running-wild improvisation. and he also loved adding Hungarian elements into his music, but after the wild chords and jumps and crazy runs in his music, it usually returns to some very German-melodic, elegant, feminine lines (those very pretty, fairy-like trills in particular). And yes, I am talking about Hungarian Rhapsody composed in 1847. That applies to Liebestraum and Hungaria, the symphonic poem he got inspiration from the 1848 revolution.
Empress Elisabeth: Born as a Bavarian duchess, she grew up in an environment with little to no restriction. She tried to break free from the strict Viennese court life by becoming more Hungarian, but her ties was still a German one, and could not completely become independent.
Seeing the remains of revolution in the field -> getting reminded of Liszt's poem -> remembering the pattern of his life -> applying it to Elizaveta/Elisabeth. That's basically the logic here.
And the reason why the Count felt happy when Roderich told him his observation was because, he felt that Roderich was implying that he was in favour of the dualism solution because he said Hungary would be unable to entirely break free. Roderich really didn't mean it, though.
Backstabbing: During Austro-Prussian war, Prussia invited Hungary to backstab Austria.... so bad.... it was horrible...
....which brings up Roderich's candid view of Elizaveta:
He does not necessarily hate her, nor does he like her either. Subjugating her had been Roderich's purpose of life until 1540~1700s, when he really became strong as a man
Sounds paradoxical / complicated, right? In short, Roderich has had a hard time trying to see / accept Elizaveta as a companion until she has been treated as equal. It takes time for him to develop positive feelings for her, so please be patient.
It is up to you to decide whether Elizaveta is aware of Roderich's apathetic (insert other negative adjective) attitude for her. I have no control over female's innate sensitivity for emotions.
I would explain a bit further if I get to develop the theme of Winterreise later. Fun fact: the poet who composed Winterreise's poem was a Prussian.
