:: Jayati Ghosh

Rudenesses received

Jayati Ghosh

May.12 : In Claudio Magris’ wonderful masterwork on the Danube (Danube: A Sentimental Journey from the Source to the Black Sea) many extraordinary characters spring from the pages, as do those whose lives appear less extraordinary at first glance, but who turn out to have either fascinating secret histories or unusual quirks of personality. One such character is Ferdinand Thran, a 19th century neo-Gothic architect, restorer and author of a guide to the Cathedral of Ulm on the banks of the Danube in southern Germany.

Thran, it turns out, was more than just a painstaking professional with a fussy obsession with detail, although that is apparently evident from his Precise Guide to the cathedral. In addition to his published work (on which, unfortunately and unnervingly in accordance with so much else in his life, the printer forgot to put his name on the cover), Thran kept another very precise and detailed record: a "File of Rudenesses Received" which he maintained for years and kept locked away in a box in the corner of the cathedral.

According to Mr Magris, it is evident from the contents of the file that Thran himself was not a particularly attractive personality. Describing him as "a pig-headed Jonah and the leather-skinned target of continual abuses", his documentation of grievances seems to be not a cry for justice but more of an expression of bitter gratification at the exposure of life itself as a continuous and unrelenting dirty trick.

The list of outrages is detailed, orderly and careful, almost like an accounting exercise, with even apparently positive experiences inevitably showing their darker or more irritating aspects. In 1835, for example, as a young man he takes an examination in architecture as a private student, and notes in passing that he gets good marks. But that is nothing compared to all the travails associated with this event: "The ghastly need to get up at dawn, the discomforts of the journey and the discourtesy of the customs men, the execrable quality of the beer and the resulting sickness, and how much it all cost", down to the exact amount.

In later life things scarcely improve in his own perception, even though he seems to have done rather well professionally. He rises to become inspector of road-works, but in this capacity he is forced to visit influential persons "in ceremonial and servile homage"; and in any case one of his uncles always insists on accompanying him, "considering him too clumsy and thick-headed to make such visits alone".

When he is put in-charge of the restoration of the Cathedral at Ulm, there are further slights, as the city authorities accuse him of spending too much money. All the arguments and quarrels are described in gory and petty detail, to show how he is continually wronged by those around him. There are public wrangles in newspapers, legal disputes, fines, appeals, slander, tyranny of the small-time notables who exercised undue power, envious rivals who seek to undercut him at every step until he feels like "hunted game".

Nothing seems to work for him, even his successes. When he receives a gold medal from the King of Wurttemburg for artistic and scientific merit, it is spoiled by the intrigues of his rivals, who manage to hold up the official publication of this honour.

But Thran did not simply blame particular individuals or even society at large, or see these unfortunate events as the results of the machinations of a few envious persons. His file makes it clear that the whole of life is an affront, a series of outrages and insults on the hapless protagonist inflicted from all quarters, whether human or natural. Thus, he records impartially and with equal weight an extremely assorted collection of misfortunes: the wicked intrigues of his superiors and rivals; the malice of the storm that destroyed the central nave of the cathedral; the injustice of the decision to award him a salary with no pension attached; the eleven falls from horseback because he could not afford a better horse; the deaths of four of his children; the work-related accidents that caused him to fall from the scaffolding; and the inconvenience of then having to be fished up from the Danube at risk of being impaled with a fish-hook.

How can simple aggravations and major tragedies be thus seen as on par by Thran? This probably reflects a deeper philosophical position that "the real tragedy of life is that it is, solely and entirely, a nuisance". So this archiving of affronts was obviously meant simply as a record, and a private one at that, of the inevitable ignominies of sheer existence.

There are many Thran equivalents around us today, even if they do not go so far as to record and chronicle perceived and actual injustice and insults they are forced to bear as part of life. We all know at least one or two such people, in greater or lesser degree sharing this weary approach to life seen as full of futility and malice. We tend to see them as whiners and complainers, and we castigate them for failing to recognise or appreciate the pleasures, joys and triumphs that also accompany the aggravations and affronts.

But there is another, more charitable, way of interpreting this world view. Mr Magris quotes Thomas Mann to point out that every book written against life seduces us into living it. He argues that behind Thran’s obstinate and determined rejection of the malevolence of life there is also a sneaking and reserved love of reality. He notes: "Perhaps the true friend of life is not the wooer who courts her with sentimental flatteries, but rather the clumsy, rejected lover who feels that she has cast him out from her good graces, as Thran puts it, like a piece of old furniture".