viva_la_piaf (viva_la_piaf) wrote in beethoven_love,

  19th of February, 1823. 

My name is Marlena van Beethoven. I was born in Prague, Czechozlovakia, on the eight of May, in the year eighteen thirteen. My mother and father are Catherine and the late Gaspard van Beethoven. I don't remember my father at all, I was only two years old when he died. He left my mother to care for myself and my older brother, Karl. His passing upset my mother so, she decided she could not handle him on her own, so she sent him to live with my uncle in Austria. He was a tender nine years old at the time. He writes often. My uncle is often travelling and is a rather difficult person in general, but my brother manages to survive as best he can. My uncle is the famous composer, Ludwig van Beethoven.
I am surprised that Karl does not lavish his presence and strive to let some of my uncle's talent and genius flow into him. 

Today is one of the happiest days of my life. My mother has finally agreed to let me travel to Vienna in Austria to let me study music at the hands of my uncle, Ludwig. She will be travelling with me, of course. She does not entirely trust him, nor, I must admit, does she have any affection for him at all. They had a falling out around the year before I was born regarding matters she refuses to discuss with me. Mothers can be so temperamental. I have never met him myself. My mother taught me what little I know about music, but I fear it is not enough. My dream is to be a singer and concert pianist, but my mother's limited knowledge of both the theoretical and practical side of music prevent me from reaching this dream, which is why she finally agreed to take me to Austria to study music with my uncle. 

From what I hear of anyone who knows him, it is extremely rare, indeed, for him to agree to tutor anyone. My mother somehow managed to convince him through a series of letters. I do not have the faintest idea what convincing wiles she could have included in those letters, but clearly they were effective. And I could not be happier that they were. The carriage leaves tomorrow at two o-clock in the afternoon. I am so full of excitement! What lies in store for me in that strange new world full of music and wonder?! 

20th of February, 1823

While mother was fetching the travelling trunks, I had a lovely conversation with the coach driver. He says he has heard  rumours relating to my uncle, Ludwig's work, "For the Immortal Beloved." As legend has it, he personally wrote two copies. One, he kept  for himself, and the other he gave to the infamous Immortal Beloved. Some believe this Immortal Beloved has kept and cherished her copy, and will never reveal herself. Rather a scandelous rumour, if my opinion is to be considered. 

I wonder why my uncle has never discussed such a person with family. He does appear to love her so, it would seem simple logic to discuss her with someone who held his trust. Mother seemed rather irritated to find me discussing such trivial, worldly matters. I do wonder what uncle Ludwig will be like. Many people have described him as an extreme perfectionist. Some have even said he is a tyrant. Surely he cannot be as terrible a person as they say. He did, after all, agree to tutor me in music. I am excited to see Karl again. It has been a number of years since his last visit home. I do miss him so. Mother says I am not to write while we are in the coach. I cannot wait to see this new place and finally have the world of music open to me. 

21st of February 1823

We have finally arrived in Kolin after a full days journey. The experience was full of excitement at first, but I must admit, my attention was lost within a few short hours. The scenery was all so new and exciting, but I grew bored of it before too long. Mother says uncle Ludwig has been completely deaf since eighteen nineteen! What a wonder that he still composes music!! If I can attain but half his talent, genius and glory, the world will fall at my feet!! I do hope with all my heart that some of his genius will flow through me. 

I marvel that Karl does not feel the same. Mother seems rather discontent with my fascination with uncle Ludwig. I cannot see why. He is my uncle, after all. Her husband's brother by blood. Surely she cannot be so indifferent? What could possibly have happened between them that could have been so bad? What could have made her so cold toward him? The inn here is absolutely lovely. Mother says I must retire to bed now. That is no chore to me, the beds here are so very soft and inviting. But for now, I bid you goodnight. 

This is a little ongoing project that I've been thinking about doing for years, now. It's a story that's been in my head since I discovered music and Beethoven. To Beethoven experts, forgive any discrepancies or inconsistancies in the chronology and/or facts in this story. Keep in mind this is completely fictional, only a few things are based on (I can only trust the publishers) correct facts I have gained from books, the internet and other sources. Also, in the first paragraph there is a reference/tribute to one of my dear friends who is also a livejournal user. You know who you are and you'll be able to pick out what it is. Enjoy!! :D
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