Hello, Mrs. Beethoven
I have been practicing the first movement of Ludwig van Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 23, or “Appassionata.” Several months ago I could play the third movement of “Appassionata,” and recently I challenged myself to play the first movement. The first movement has more notes and is faster than the third one, thus it felt much harder.
It is well known that Beethoven developed an ear problem and started losing his hearing in his 20s. At that time, he tried various treatments, but his illness did not improve. He was already the most famous and popular musician and pianist in Vienna. However, he gave up all his fame as a musician and went to the countryside. Beethoven wrote in a famous letter that his life was miserable.
He wanted to keep his deafness — a terrible disability for a musician — secret. He was afraid the fact would be known to the world. So, he began to avoid people. He wrote the letter as if it were a will, while thinking about death. This letter is known as the “Heiligenstadt Testament.” Nonetheless, during this period of pitch darkness, Beethoven composed amazingly beautiful pieces such as “Moonlight Sonata,” Symphony No. 5 and Symphony No. 9.
I sometimes imagine how Beethoven could create gorgeous sounds in his own solitary way while trapped in a world of silence where no sound could be heard. I think of his life, how he had to manage his family as the eldest of many siblings with an alcoholic father.
My mother used to play the organ when she was much younger. It was before we bought a piano. Around the time I entered middle school, we bought a piano. She never learned to play the piano, though she still played it by herself. This continued perhaps until she turned 75 years old. She usually played the hymns we sang at church. Although she repeatedly said “I can’t see well” while wearing her glasses, she would play the piano for a certain amount of time every day.
Watching my mother play the piano, I used to think that she must have been very smart. I thought it marvelous for her to play the piano without any training.
As my mother passes her late 80s, she cannot play the piano any more with her worsening eyesight. Moreover, she has much difficulty in chewing food, and her ears have deteriorated too. Now she can hear and understand only when I speak to her very loudly and very close to her ears. I feel so sorry for her. It is heartbreaking.
I feel my mother is like Beethoven. He created wonderful music with all his might throughout his life, though he could not hear for much of it. I imagine how my mother with her deafness would have a hard time and feel frustrated on her own. She is living day by day in her own solitary way, trapped in a world of silence where no sound is heard. Nevertheless, my mother expresses a light heart filled with joy and gratitude rather than heavy despair and sorrow. I want to call my mother Mrs. Beethoven.
Beethoven is often called a saint, a sacred person of music. He composed music which is tremendously beautiful as well as impressive. My mother is not a person who achieved such great success or splendid achievements. However, she is sacred to me, because she showed and taught me how to be with a person, embrace a person and love a person warmly. How to comfort, help a person in need, how to encourage a weak person and how to be humble and grateful under all circumstances. Mother is sacred in that she is a human being. In that every human being is created in God’s image, every human being is sacred. Even though she cannot hear well, I will respect and love her with my best to the end. Today, I will go to my mother and say hello to her.
Hello, Mrs. Beethoven, I love you.
Lee Nan-hee studied English in college and theology at Hanshin University.