Beethoven and his Nephew

Emily Nelson

Music and Language

9/27/08

Article Review

In the chapter “Beethoven and his Nephew” from his esteemed biography of the composer, Maynard Solomon sheds new light on this much-discussed period of Beethoven’s life. His narrative of the years 1815 to 1820 not only gives a solid factual overview, but also highlights Beethoven’s deep moral questionability and provides psychoanalytical theories regarding his behavior. It begins with the death of Beethoven’s brother Carl Caspar, whose son Beethoven lays claim in direct contradiction to the wishes of his brother. What ensues is a legal struggle between Beethoven and his brother’s widow, Johanna, along with the tragic circumstances surrounding the boy Karl. Beethoven’s actions have been condemned as unethical and cruel by previous biographers, but Solomon takes a more scientific approach, theorizing based on psychoanalytical methods in an effort to explain the actions and summarize the ultimate effect they had on the composer. Indeed, Solomon presents this period as one of the most psychologically important in the composer’s life; it forced Beethoven to deal with “unresolved issues of his family constellation” by bringing them out of the world of fantasy and into reality.

When viewed on a personal level rather than psychological, it is difficult not to whole-heartedly condemn the composer for his actions. Perhaps if he had claimed sole guardianship and subsequently provided a quality, loving home for Karl, sympathy would come more easily. But every action seems inexcusably selfish. It was not that Beethoven wanted the boy in his care, but he did not want him to be with his mother. He explicitly tried to turn the boy against Johanna, and at the same time was trying to obtain permission to ship the boy out of the country. His interactions with Karl were not one of a loving parent but cruelly ambivalent, smothering the boy alternately with affection and beratement. Solomon makes the pertinent connection between this behavior and Beethoven’s own childhood, noting that we should balance our condemnation with the “understanding that he was in the grip of forces that he could not control and that in his own way he ultimately sought atonement.” Was he the conductor of a train headed toward a man on the tracks, completely conscious of what was happening but unable to control his actions? Or was he Madame Bovary, entrenched in a world of fantasy he created for himself? From an outsider’s perspective, especially one from a relatively healthy family background, it is hard to understand what drove these seemingly misguided events. Solomon does an excellent job of trying to rationalize them, however, and provides an even-handed psychological explanation of Beethoven’s possible motivations.

But Beethoven is not just a case study in Freudian theory. He is a composer. And what brought us to have any interest in this man is his music. According to Solomon, Karl and Johanna were “catalysts” by which Beethoven could reach new creative heights. But unlike a chemical catalyst, Johanna and Karl did not remain unchanged. Beethoven’s creative breakthrough came at a terrible price to these two people. The whole event may have been psychologically beneficial to Beethoven, but does that excuse the irreparable damage he caused Karl and his mother? A utilitarian view might pardon his actions because such widely loved and musically genius works as the Ninth Symphony would have never happened if the scenario had played out differently. It is not an easy conflict to resolve but an intriguing one none-the-less, and Solomon guides us down the path to understanding with many new and interesting ideas regarding this period in Beethoven’s life.