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- Herausgeber: Hesperus Minor
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014
The original story that inspired the Tchaikovsky ballet, The Nutcracker is a magical story of one little girl's decent into a dream-like world where the diabolical Mouse King rules… Best known as the inspiration for Tchaikovsky's ballet, The Nutcracker is a charming book in its own right. Full of magic and childish wonder, this coming-of-age novella by E.T.A. Hoffmann has something for everyone: beautiful dolls, ferocious battles and dark undertones. It truly has all the elements of a fairy tale. Younger readers will be enchanted by this children's classic, while older readers will be intrigued to discover the background to the famous ballet libretto. It is Christmas Eve and Marie has tired of her new presents, happily playing with a nutcracker instead. When the clock strikes midnight, she is stunned to see an army of mice advancing, led by a seven-headed Mouse King. Her very own nutcracker comes alive, leading the dolls and toys against the mouse army and a violent battle ensues. Soon after, her godfather comes for a visit and tells her the story of the nutcracker. As the tale unfolds, Marie learns about the ongoing feud between the mice and their enemy Princess Pirlipat. It sounds fanciful, but could it be true? This timeless tale is full of the magic of Christmas, but is a delight to read at any time of the year. Its enduring popularity is testament to its originality and charm.
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the nutcracker
e.t.a. hoffmann
Contents
foreword
Ernst Theodor Wilhelm Hoffmann was one of the founders of fantasy literature. He was born in Königsberg, Prussia (now Kaliningrad, Russia) in 1776. Coming from a family with jurists on both sides, he studied law and went on to become a law officer in the Polish provinces in 1800. Following the defeat of Prussia by Napoleon in 1806, he made his living from music for a number of years, working as a composer, theatrical director and critic. In 1813 he changed his third name, Wilhelm, to Amadeus, in homage to Mozart, and always published under the name ETA Hoffmann.
At that time, Germany was entering a phase of artistic romanticism, and Hoffmann became a leading exponent of the movement. In reaction to the classicism epitomised by Goethe and Schiller, waves of imagination and irrationality swept through the artistic community. The fairy tale, the dream and the supernatural were all revisited and expanded, and new, darker areas of psychic introspection were explored, particularly by Hoffmann himself. His first love was music, which he described as ‘the most romantic of the arts – one might almost say, the only genuine romantic art – for its own sole subject is the infinite.’ However, when his various attempts to employ himself in the field dried up, he returned to the law and was appointed to the court of appeal in Berlin in 1814. From then on, his artistic expression took the form of writing.
Friedrich Schnapp, writing a study of the author in the 1970s, tells us that Hoffmann ‘sought the company of actors. His desire to mystify, to be immune to all attempts to pin him down made him feel right at home in their company, where he could stage a mixture of sincerity and play that always left it unclear where his true self ended and the assumed role began.’ This observation is very useful in relation to The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, with its multi-layering of realities, since it is not always entirely clear which world the characters are occupying. It is also useful in relation to the role of Godfather Drosselmeier. Hoffmann often wrote himself into his stories, and it is very likely that the enigmatic Drosselmeier is the author’s self-portrait in this one.
The Nutcracker and the Mouse King was first published in 1816 in a collection of children’s stories by various authors called Kinder-Mährchen. It was later republished in Hoffmann’s own collection, Die Serapionsbrüder. Alexandre Dumas’ 1844 rewriting of the story formed the basis of the ballet suite by Tchaikovsky.
Hoffmann originally wrote the story for the children of his friend Julius Eduard Hitzig, and the two younger ones Marie (Maria) and Fritz (Fred) are both the intended audience and two of the players in the story. It was written in episodes, clearly designed to be read aloud to the children, probably by the author himself and, judging by the occasional adult reference and private joke, probably in the company of the whole family. These ‘in-jokes’ remain common in some forms of children’s literature to this day and, when used sparingly (as is the case here), take nothing away from the accessibility of the main story to a young reader. The Nutcracker and the Mouse King moves along at a good place and is a true children’s story.
It is remarkable for a number of reasons, not least its quiet but clear influence on children’s literature through the ages. Ideas that are now quite mainstream are introduced here by Hoffmann, including toys that come alive at night, old folk tales that act as backgrounds to present circumstances and contain the clues to the final resolution and, I was delighted to discover, a wardrobe which contains the entrance to another world. In common with many traditional fairy tales the central character, Maria, must make certain sacrifices and behave in particular ways in order for the predestined elements of the story to play out, but there is nothing in the way of the heavy moral tone which made its way into much of the children’s literature that came later in the nineteenth century. In fact, there is something anarchic in The Nutcracker which makes it feel very modern. In the scenes where her parents scold Maria for her reckless games, the reader, knowing what really happened, sees their petty narrow-mindedness. We view their inability to experience the other realities that Maria inhabits as a weakness, not a strength. Godfather Drosselmeier, on the other hand, understands these other realities very well. Indeed, it is implied that he may be more than an observer of the many interrelated layers of reality, being, in fact, a kind of trickster figure, manipulating everything from the sidelines. But even he is not immune from the thread of anarchy which runs through the story, and is clearly much taken aback when Maria denigrates his looks: ‘Who knows, dear godfather, if you were dressed like my sweet Nutcracker, and had on such bright little boots – who knows but you would then be as handsome as he is!’ Drosselmeier’s reaction to this is a clever joke by Hoffmann against himself: ‘Maria could not tell why her parents laughed so loudly at this, and why the Counsellor’s face turned so red, and he, for his part, did not laugh half so heartily this time as he had done more than once before. It is likely there was some particular reason for it.’
Perhaps the most remarkable element of the story is the marvellous, often weird, multilayering of the imaginative worlds through which Maria must move in order to resolve the strange story of the nutcracker. When we originally meet the nutcracker, he is just that, a manikin with a hinged jaw and a set of hard teeth, designed to crack nuts. He is put to work, and is soon broken by the enthusiastic Fred, and put to bed by Maria in the glass-fronted case where all the toys are kept. She begs for permission to stay up late, and receives it. Now the story moves into a new realm, and the mouse armies appear, led by the grotesque figure of the Mouse King, who has seven heads. A great battle takes place, during which Maria herself is incidentally injured, and on account of this, she is put to bed for several days by her angry and, of course, sceptical parents.
While she is in bed, Godfather Drosselmeier tells her a kind of fairy story, thus bringing her into another kind of reality. This story provides the background to the current position of the nutcracker, and concerns a royal family, their daughter Princess Pirlipat, and the reason for the feud with the mice. It is told, on the whole, in a traditional style, until the unexpected arrival into the narrative of Drosselmeier himself and the surreal episode where he ‘took little Princess Pirlipat apart with great dexterity, unscrewed her little hands and feet, and carefully examined her inward structure’. It is a flight of imaginative brilliance, playful and humorous, without regard for narrative consistency. In much the same way, the episode in the world made of sweets comes unexpectedly and has surprises within it. Maria believes that she is in an automated world that the clockmaker Drosselmeier once promised to make for her, but the nutcracker, now transformed into her handsome prince, denies this, with the suggestion that she herself is the primary creator of the various worlds in which she finds herself. ‘“Godfather Drosselmeier can never make anything like this. You – you yourself, rather, sweetest Miss Stahlbaum – but we will not trouble our heads about that…”’
And he is probably right. Hoffmann’s brilliant story ultimately defies analysis. Far better for the reader, young or old, to trust the author, let go of the restrictions of rationality and go along for the ride. They will not be disappointed.
– Kate Thompson, 2014
the nutcracker
e.t.a. hoffmann
chapter one
christmas eve
During the long, long day of the twenty-fourth of December, the children of Doctor Stahlbaum were not permitted to enter the parlour, much less the adjoining drawing room. Frederic and Maria sat nestled together in a corner of the back chamber; dusky twilight had come on, and they felt quite gloomy and fearful, for, as was commonly the case on this day, no light was brought in to them. Fred, in great secrecy, and in a whisper, informed his little sister (she was only just seven years old), that ever since morning he had heard a rustling and a rattling, and now and then a gentle knocking, in the forbidden chambers. Not long ago also he had seen a little dark man, with a large chest under his arm, gliding softly through the entry, but he knew very well that it was nobody but Godfather Drosselmeier. Upon this Maria clapped her little hands together for joy, and exclaimed, ‘Ah, what beautiful things has Godfather Drosselmeier made for us this time!’
Counsellor Drosselmeier was not a very handsome man; he was small and thin, had many wrinkles in his face, over his right eye he had a large black patch, and he was without hair, for which reason he wore a very nice white wig; this was made of glass however, and was a very ingenious piece of work. The Godfather himself was very ingenious also, he understood all about clocks and watches, and could even make them. Accordingly, when any one of the beautiful clocks in Doctor Stahlbaum’s house was sick, and could not sing, Godfather Drosselmeier would have to attend it. He would then take off his glass wig, pull off his brown coat, put on a blue apron, and pierce the clock with sharp-pointed instruments, which usually caused little Maria a great deal of anxiety. But it did the clock no harm; on the contrary, it became quite lively again, and began at once right merrily to rattle, and to strike, and to sing, so that it was a pleasure to all who heard it. Whenever he came, he always brought something pretty in his pocket for the children, sometimes a little man who moved his eyes and made a bow, at others, a box, from which a little bird hopped out when it was opened – sometimes one thing, sometimes another.
When Christmas Eve came, he had always a beautiful piece of work prepared for them, which had cost him a great deal of trouble, and on this account it was always carefully preserved by their parents, after he had given it to them. ‘Ah, what beautiful present has Godfather Drosselmeier made for us this time!’ exclaimed Maria. It was Fred’s opinion that this time it could be nothing else than a castle, in which all kinds of fine soldiers marched up and down and went through their exercises; then other soldiers would come, and try to break into the castle, but the soldiers within would fire off their cannon very bravely, until all roared and cracked again. ‘No, no,’ cried Maria, interrupting him, ‘Godfather Drosselmeier has told me of a lovely garden where there is a great lake, upon which beautiful swans swim about, with golden collars around their necks, and sing their sweetest songs. Then there comes a little girl out of the garden down along the lake, and coaxes the swans to the shore, and feeds them with sweet cake.’
‘Swans never eat cake,’ interrupted Fred, somewhat roughly, ‘and even Godfather Drosselmeier himself can’t make a whole garden. After all, we have little good of his playthings; they are all taken right away from us again. I like what Papa and Mamma give us much better, for we can keep their presents for ourselves, and do as we please with them.’ The children now began once more to guess what it could be this time. Maria thought that Miss Trutchen (her great doll) was growing very old, for she fell almost every moment upon the floor, and more awkwardly than ever, which could not happen without leaving sad marks upon her face, and as to neatness in dress, this was now altogether out of the question with her. Scolding did not help the matter in the least. Frederic declared, on the other hand, that a bay horse was wanting in his stable, and his troops were very deficient in cavalry, as his Papa very well knew.
By this time it had become quite dark. Frederic and Maria sat close together, and did not venture again to speak a word. It seemed now as if soft wings rustled around them, and very distant, but sweet music was heard at intervals. At this moment a shrill sound broke upon their ears – kling, ling – kling, ling – the doors flew wide open, and such a dazzling light broke out from the great chamber, that with the loud exclamation, ‘Ah! ah!’ the children stood fixed at the threshold. But Papa and Mamma stepped to the door, took them by the hand, and said, ‘Come, come, dear children, and see what Christmas has brought you this year.’
chapter two
the gifts
Kind reader, or listener, whatever may be your name, whether Frank, Robert, Henry, – Anna or Maria, I beg you to call to mind the table covered with your last Christmas gifts, as in their newest gloss they first appeared to your delighted vision. You will then be able to imagine the astonishment of the children, as they stood with sparkling eyes, unable to utter a word, for joy at the sight before them. At last Maria called out with a deep sigh, ‘Ah, how beautiful! ah, how beautiful!’ and Frederic gave two or three leaps in the air higher than he had ever done before. The children must have been very obedient and good children during the past year, for never on any Christmas Eve before, had so many beautiful things been given to them. A tall fir tree stood in the middle of the room, covered with gold and silver apples, while sugar almonds, comfits, lemon drops, and every kind of confectionery, hung like buds and blossoms upon all its branches. But the greatest beauty about this wonderful tree, was the many little lights that sparkled amid its dark boughs, which like stars illuminated its treasures, or like friendly eyes seemed to invite the children to partake of its blossoms and fruit.
The table under the tree shone and flushed with a thousand different colours – ah, what beautiful things were there! who can describe them? Maria spied the prettiest dolls, a tea set, all kinds of nice little furniture, and what eclipsed all the rest, a silk dress tastefully ornamented with gay ribbons, which hung upon a frame before her eyes, so that she could view it on every side. This she did too, and exclaimed over and over again, ‘Ah, the sweet – ah, the dear, dear frock! and may I put it on? yes, yes – may I really, though, wear it?’
