themarginalian.org · 12 hours ago
Beethoven began losing his hearing just as he resolved, in a letter to his brothers, "Ah! how could I possibly quit the world before bringing forth all that I felt it was my vocation to produce?" - and the twenty-seven years between that vow and the premiere of his Ninth Symphony were filled with war, bereavement, illness, legal battles, and a night spent in jail as a suspected tramp. Maria Popova traces the long, turbulent gestation of "Ode to Joy" not as a story of genius transcending suffering, but of a human being refusing to let suffering have the final word - carrying Schiller's dream of freedom and universal solidarity through every darkness until the music could carry it further. On the night of the premiere, Beethoven stood deaf before a roaring audience and noticed nothing until the young contralto Karoline Unger gently turned him around to face what he had made. The piece has since been sung by Chilean protesters, performed after earthquakes, blasted in Tiananmen Square, and voiced by a Bulgarian schoolgirl's choir still learning what freedom felt like - each iteration a fresh act of insistence that what connects us is more durable than what divides us. Popova offers what may be the truest translation of the joy at its center: "this ecstatic fusion of presence and possibility."