Die Quelle by Ludwig von Hofmann

Die Quelle (1913)
Ludwig von Hofmann (German, 1861-1945)
Thomas Mann Archives,  Eidgenössische Technische Hochschule Zürich
Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Hung in Thomas Mann's study and traveled with him to Switzerland, the United States and back again during his years of exile
from Germany.

 

The Magician by Colm Toibin

New York : Scribner, 2021

Like The Master before it, Toibin has centered his novel on an important literary figure. The Master gave us Henry James; The Magician presents Thomas Mann.

Opening in 1891 in Lübeck, Germany with a 16 year old Thomas, spanning sixty years, and ending in 1950 Los Angeles, Toibin presents Thomas' life in detail. Thomas publishes Buddenbrooks and Death in Venice to much acclaim, before World War I. The interwar years are complicated for Thomas with both his brother Heinrich and his children Klaus and Erika becoming quite vocal politically. With the rise of Hitler and the Mann's exile to Switzerland, Thomas doesn't feel that he can speak out against the Nazis—in part because he wants his books to remain in print in Germany, which he still considers home. His decision to remain mostly silent allowed him to continue to sell his works and support his family in an increasingly polarized world.

A particularly strong moment in the novel happens around Thomas' request that his son who is still in Germany retrieve his journals from the safe in their home and send them to Thomas in Switzerland. For a period, the journals are lost and Thomas' concern manifests itself in a flashback based on an entry in the journals that makes clear Thomas' homosexuality. This section provides the strongest sense of what Thomas Mann may have been feeling, while the rest of the novel seems to be solely focused on what happened next.

While many reviewers contend that the novel is about Thomas Mann's secret sexuality, it actually plays a minor role. The focus of the novel is the day-to-day life of Thomas and his family, how they survive the social and political upheaval of the time, and how Thomas' decisions about what to say publicly (or not say publicly) allowed the family to survive World War II. 

Stylistically, The Magician is a novel, but structurally it reads like biography. In this way, I think the adherence to a linear chronological structure with chapters titled by location and year, doesn't allow the reader to learn much about Thomas Mann, the man. While reading, I wondered if a novel structured more specifically around the fear of the Nazis obtaining his journals and flashing back to various experiences through his life documented in the journals might have allowed the reader to have a sense of what Thomas felt about his own life and sexuality, or what or how he felt about his children's sexuality, three of whom would be considered part of the LGBTQ community today.

Death in Venice by Thomas Mann

New York: Harper Collins, 2004

When I decided to revisit Thomas Mann's Death in Venice (originally published in german in 1912), the first question was "Who's translation?" There have been a number of new translations in the last two decades, so I read a few of them -- much to the amusement of some in my life and the confusion of others. Michael Henry Heim's 2004 translation is accessible and embraces the inherent sensuality of the work. In it, Aschenbach feels like a fully formed human, not the two-dimensional figure I remembered.

In Michael Cunningham's introduction to this translation of Death in Venice he suggests that this novella is probably more appreciated by a slightly older reader. Having first read Death in Venice in my early 20s and now again a couple of decades later, I couldn't agree more. Cunningham's commentary on the nature of translation also put me in the correct frame of mind to appreciate the complex choices that are made when attempting to convey the story and the feeling in another language.

Clayton Koelb's 1994 translation for the Norton Critical Edition includes Mann's notes and a half-dozen essays. One of these essays, Why is Tadzio a Boy?: Perspectives on Homoeroticism in Death in Venice by Robert Tobin provides an analysis of the text through a gay lens. I found this essay invaluable as a companion to my most recent reading of this beautiful novella.

Bibliographies & Ratings: Cory (IV); Garde (PRIMARY, **); Mattachine Review (IV); Young (2485, *)