Born Genius ~ A Conversation between Father and Son

(Post originally published February 2, 2012)

It is constantly stressed that writing can be learned, developed, mastered; that if you have a talent, it can be made to shine. However, there are writers who were destined for greatness from the beginning, whose star seemed to blaze the minute they appeared on earth similar to Mozart and his musical genius. In the case of writing, I am thinking of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832), German poet, dramatist, scientist and statesman.

(Image: Goethe in the Roman Campagna, by Johann Heinrich Wilhelm Tischbein, 1787)

Naturally, we can recognise his great talent with famous works from his adult years such as Faust: Part One, The Sorrows of Young Werther and Egmont A Tragedy in Five Acts to name a few, but like Mozart, he had a unique gift that manifested at an early age. Goethe was passionate about history, languages and art, and I thought I would share a little known scribbling he wrote when about eight years old, the last colloquy from a set of three featuring a conversation with his father about the wax figurines he was shaping, imitating the great artists and their model-making:



“Father: What are you doing there, my son?

Son: Making wax figures.

Father: I thought so. Oh, when will you ever put nuts aside?”

('Nuts': Goethe was playing on a Latin pun with the word 'nuces', which means 'nuts' and 'childish play'.)

Son: Why, I'm not playing with nuts, I'm playing with wax.

Father: Ignoramus, can it be that you don't know the meaning of 'nuts' in this connection?

Son: Now I remember. But see how well I have learned in a short time to model wax.

Father: To spoil wax, you mean.

Son: I beg your pardon. Am I not creating rather clever things?

Father: Yes indeed. Show me some of your malformations.

Son: Among other animals I have made, with special success, a cat with a long moustache, and a city mouse and a field mouse to illustrate one of Horace's satires, (i.e., an ancient Roman satirist), translated by Drollinger into pure German doggerel.

Father: I like this reminiscence better than the beasts themselves. But have you made nothing else which shows your alleged art more advantageously?

Son: Yes, indeed, here is a whale, with mouth wide open as if to swallow us, and two chamois, which Emperor Maximilian was so found of hunting that he is said to have been unable to find his way out of the declivitous rocks till an angel in human form showed him the path.

Father: Why, you apply your scraps of history so aptly that one must pardon your misshapen figures. And is that all?

Son: By no means; for all my models the ones to be especially admired are: the crocodile shedding false tears, the monstrous war elephant of the ancients, the lizard, friend of man, the croaking frog announcing spring, all of which lack nothing but life.

Father: Nonsense! Who would be able to recognise them without the labels?

Son: Alas! Is not every man the best interpreter of his own works?

Father: This statement is quite true, but not apropos.

Son: Pardon my ignorance and deign to look at this sleighing party. There are just a dozen in it, all different, partly creeping and partly flying creatures, of which the swan, the stag, the walrus, and the dragon seem to be the most natural.

Father: You may think so, if you like, but it is perfectly apparent that you make no real distinction between beautiful and ugly.

Son: Dear father, will you be so kind as to teach me the difference?

Father: Certainly, but everything in season. Your power of observation must first be more mature.
Son: Oh fiddlesticks! Why will you postpone it? Tell me about it today rather than tomorrow and I will listen to you while I play.

Father: I have already said it cannot be done now—some other time. Put aside your childish nonsense now and go to your work.

Son: I will. Good bye.”

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Amazing when you think an eight year old wrote this piece on aesthetics ~ Playdoh time rendered into a miniature work of art!

(Excerpt from “The Life Of Goethe: Albert Bielschowsky)

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The Rich Man's Son - A Christmas Story (Author Unknown)

(Post originally published December 11, 2011)

 

(Image: "Xmas Greetings 7th Division 1917...")

Once upon a time not so long ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting. Together they travelled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the rambling family estate. The widowed elder man looked on with satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector and shared the same tastes as he. The son’s trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.

As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days, his fears were confirmed. The young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic. Distraught and lonely, the old man faced the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season – a season that he and his son had so looked forward to – would visit his house no longer.

On Christmas morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home. As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hand. He introduced himself to the man by saying, “I was a friend of your son. I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you.”

As they talked, the solider explained how the man’s son had told everyone about him, not to mention his love of fine art. “I’m an artist, well, an amateur of art,” said the soldier, “and I wanted to give you this.” As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the man’s son. Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man’s face in striking detail.

Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the soldier, promising to hang the picture above the fireplace.

A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his task. True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars of paintings. And then the man sat in his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given.

During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though his son was no longer with him, the boy’s life would live on because of those he had touched. He would soon learn from dozens of letters sent to him from other soldiers that his son had rescued them too before a bullet stilled his caring heart. As the stories of his son’s gallantry continued to reach him, fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease the grief. The painting of his son soon became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the pieces for which museums around the world clamoured.

He told his neighbours it was the greatest gift he had ever received.

The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art world was in anticipation. With the collector’s passing, and his only son dead, it was announced that all those paintings would be sold at an auction. According to the will of the old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on Christmas day, the day he had received his greatest gift. The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world’s most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many would claim “I have the greatest collection.”

The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum’s list. It was the painting of the man’s son.

The auctioneer asked for an opening bid. The room was silent. “Who will open the bidding with $100?” he asked.

Minutes passed. No one spoke. From the back of the room came, “Who cares about that painting? It’s just a picture of his son. Let’s forget it and go on to the good stuff.” More voices echoed in agreement. “No, we have to begin with this one first, the man's last request was explicit,” replied the auctioneer. “Now, who will take the son?”

Finally, a close friend of the old man spoke.

“Will you take ten dollars for the painting? That’s all I have. I knew the boy, so I’d like to have it.” “I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?” called the auctioneer. After another period of impatient silence, the auctioneer said, “Going once, going twice. Gone.” The gavel fell. Cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, “Now we can get on with it and we can bid on these treasures!”

The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced the auction was over.
Stunned disbelief quickly struck the would-be art buyers. Someone spoke up and asked, “What do you mean it’s over? We didn’t come here for a picture of some old guy’s son! What about all of these paintings? There are millions of dollars of art here! It was announced the whole collection was up for auction! I demand that you explain the meaning of this!”

The auctioneer replied, “It’s very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever could appreciate his greatest treasure, although it seemed small and insignificant to the eyes of the world, would be considered worthy to receive the rest. Therefore, whoever takes the son...gets it all.”

This story puts things into perspective, doesn’t it? Just as those art collectors discovered on that Christmas day, the message is still the same – the love of a Father – a Father whose greatest joy came from His Son who went away and gave His life rescuing others. And because of that Father’s love...whoever receieves the Son receives all. You don't have to be rich, just give Him your 'all' with an open heart.

Dear friends, this story illustrated the love of our Father in Heaven, our God, for us. He sacrificed His beloved Son and whosoever would believe in Him will not perish but have everlasting life. The is the greatest gift of love to each one of us, and the beautiful part is, we don't have to wait until Christmas to receive Him.

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