My Little Gnudren,
Human beings and all animals, including Gnus shed their skins. We have to do this to remain alive and healthy. The process is automatic, even if you don’t have a bath for a long time. May this become a parable for us because our survival and the survival of the planet depends on it. Some things just must be shed. (Most things Mrs. Gnu encourages Old Gnu to shed, end up appropriately in his shed.) Risk assessments have been done on our present trajectory for life on this planet. We must act accordingly. And as we grow older, the process of shedding, or “declutterification” becomes an increasing imperative for our emotional well-being and balance. – [Old Gnu has just invented that word. “Decluttering” will not do. “Declutterification” embraces the concept behind the action of “decluttering”. If you want to be a true academic, you have to learn to deal with concepts and begin to talk like this. This is not only an important skill for Academics but an absolute for Philosophers]. One of these days, when a far less nimble Gnu busts a gut to reach for one of his 3 LP recordings of Ernest Bloch’s Schelomo, the top shelf of his 3000 LPs will collapse creating a chain reaction, bringing the whole bloody lot down on his head, and kill him.
This is no laughing matter. For many years it was believed that the composer Charles Alkan (1813-1888) who was a close friend of Chopin, died when straining to reach for a copy of the Talmud on the top shelf of a heavily laden bookcase which then toppled over and killed him. This was the story of told by the Rabbi of Metz. But a contemporary letter by one of his pupils is supposed to have shattered this myth, and reports that Alkan was found in the kitchen having possibly fainted and grabbing a heavy coat and umbrella stand which had fallen on top of him and killed him.
The Rabbi’s story seems too good to be true at one level. And in an age when we are keen to get rid of anything that smack of the romantic or mythical this story has been relegated to the rubbish bin, and no one has asked if there was a pile of books lying on Alkan’s study floor. Nor whether the book case executed the first blow and the coat stand issued the second fatal blow. Another question to ask is, ‘What was a coat and umbrella stand was doing in the kitchen? – not the usual location of such an item. Obviously, this is a peculiar French tradition old Gnu doesn’t know about. Alkan led a remarkable life. Quite apart from being a virtuoso pianist – hailed by no less than Frank Liszt as one of the greats – he composed prolifically. In 1848-1872 he went into almost retreat disappearing from public life. During that time, not only did he compose, but he translated the Old and New Testament, plus the Apocrypha into French from the original Greek, Hebrew and Syriac texts. Since the age of digitisation, a fair number of his compositions have been recorded. Despite his genius, Charles Alkan would never have made a Health and Safety Officer. He must go down in history as a failure to do a proper risk assessment of having a coat stand in his kitchen, and a bookcase in his house.
Another failure at risk assessment was the composer, Max Reger (1873-1916). An upright Christian man, nevertheless he was excommunicated from the Catholic Church because he married Elsa, a divorced Protestant. He obviously failed to realise that Jesus didn’t like Protestant divorcees much in those days. On all other accounts he had done a risk assessment on life in general. When he died of a heart attack in a Leipzig hotel, the proofs of his motet, “Der Mensch lebt und bestehet nur dine kleine Zeit” (Man lives and endures but a short time), were by his bedside. It seems, that not having the best of health he was mentally prepared for an early death.
And now to Paul Hindemith (1895-1963), a composer, who seems to have been more canny about risk assessments. He transgressed Nazi protocol and like Max Reger inadvertently married a persona non grata. Gertrude Hindemith was of Jewish descent; a careless error on Paul’s part. But he had the nouse and good fortune to scarper to Switzerland in 1938. Also, much as he tried to please the Nazis with his compositions, it seems they didn’t like them very much. They burnt some, which might be a fair indication that they didn’t like them. Or, it could be that they were short of energy supplies. Given our present state of affairs, many of Old Gnu’s compositions could come in useful this winter.
So the moral of this tale is quite clear. If you have bookcase in you study or a coat and umbrella stand in your kitchen, for heaven’s sake do a risk assessment! And be careful who you marry! I’ll say no more, otherwise Mrs. Gnu will give me a thick ear. And pay attention to the risk assessments done on the wellbeing of our planet. And remember, decluttering like crazy will reduce your need to do risk assessments, which plague you all every day. Old Gnu understands that all his books and scores could be stored on a Kindle. And, his library of thousands of CDs and LPs could all fit on to one of these:
I’m sure Gustav Mahler will be pleased.
I feel the great clearances coming upon me! Mrs. Gnu will be pleased.
Vetus Pater Gnu – Alvi deiectio venerunt super me
Musicorum et Theologia
Turris LA
XXX Mensis Octobris MMXXII