silent melody

The United Society of Individuals of the Common Memoirs of Humanity.

The damp cold came with Handel's arrival, and he casually leaned his wet umbrella into the hall of the Music Association.Seeing someone passing by, he took off his coat and threw it into the person's arms.

The coat rack seems to have a bit of a temper. "You came back from London?" Bach's face was still full of the London rain thrown by Handel.

Handel noticed Mr. Monteverdi beside Bach. "Good day, Monsieur Monteverdi. Nice to meet you."

The old Venetian looked bewildered.Obviously, he couldn't understand Handel's English, and he could only respond with a smile.

"Brother John," Handel suddenly remembered something, and began to speak to the long-neglected coat rack, "I met Mr. Locke in London-you know he is one of the administrators of the association contract. I said that they recently inspected many dead files in the archives of the association, and found that many of them showed signs of recovery..."

"Wait a minute, aren't you supposed to show Mr. Purcell a tour of London?" Bach said angrily, "Senior Purcell..."

"Don't yell at me, old German walrus," said Handel disapprovingly (Monteverdi was still perplexed by the English dialogue), "you know that the weather in London has been bad lately, and I think Mr. He hasn’t fully recovered either, so he’s not fit to go out; he thinks so too... So, I let him stay in the British Pavilion—anyway, Mr. Newton there looks so much like him, and they should have a lot of common language...Listen I said, Locke..."

"How could you treat Senior Purcell like this, throw him in the association and then you go out alone..."

"Come on," Handel interrupted Bach unceremoniously, "you will be grateful to me after I tell you about Locke's new discovery—they checked the dead files of the Resuscitation Association, and it is expected that there will be a group of Italian teenagers in the near future. Girls come to society--beautiful little girls, old John! Not uncle, uncle, even a hundred times better than your good friend Telemann! And these Limber girls--you know through the Limber period The memoirs of the incarnated entities have a higher body temperature than ours - would be very warm, considering they(?) are so suitable for warming the bed, you don't want to be in your bed..."

"Wait a minute," Bach couldn't understand, "little girl! They must not be girls! Also, Mr. Monteverdi is still here, and you say 'Master'...Mr. Handel, I beg you to be serious .”

Monteverdi still listened to their dancing English conversation unconsciously, and expressed great interest.

"Gender is not a problem, you know..." Handel flaunted triumphantly, "What's the matter if Mr. Monteverdi knows? I recently looked up the information on those possible Italian girls, and it's just enough to satisfy the few of us." More than--don't get too excited, old man John, you're going to have another cerebral hemorrhage--you know that's what killed you..."

Bach restrained himself as much as possible, and showed respect and forbearance.If it wasn't for the fact that Senior Monteverdi was still here, he really wanted to punch that hapless Englishman in front of him who was so fat that he didn't have a neck and was still calling others (especially himself) a walrus.

In fact, Handel also wanted to beat Bach, if it was because Monteverdi was still watching inexplicably.But his attention was quickly distracted by other things - Vivaldi's small figure floated across the hall of the association. "I forgot, you already have a little Italian girl—but would you like a second, a third?"

However, Bach did not respond to Handel's provocation.Because apparently he was watching Vivaldi too.

Vivaldi seemed a little sad.A letter sent to Albinoni last month went unanswered.The letter history did not see Albinoni at Limber's port today: in the past, Albinoni always waited early in Limbo's port.

"Who is that girl?" Monteverdi was also curious, and he asked in Italian.

Albinoni no longer needs a messenger, because he has a better way, which is to personally deliver the reply to his long-lost friend.

The early morning mist has not dissipated, and the pale green sunlight is rippling dimly on the blue waves.Small boats are driving on the sea, like the mouth of the Grand Canal in Venice.Albinoni sat in the boat, and the fog prevented him from seeing clearly.

Suddenly, from behind the mist, from the shore of the New World, vaguely and mistyly, came a melody, intermittent and not very real.In this incoherent music, Albinoni tried his best to capture all its characteristics.This melody is so familiar!Yes, this is his own composition, Overture in G major.

He still remembers the last time he heard the track.It was the winter of 1950, at the Picopos Abbey, lit up by the sea, and it was the last track on the orchestra's program and the last they would perform together.After it was over, they never saw each other again.

The shadow of the New World revealed looming black spots in the mist, and the melody gradually became coherent.It was his friend's call.Albinoni hurriedly took out the violin from the case, tuned it full, and continued to play without wiping the rosin completely, because he was so excited at this time that he could no longer care about the conventions of the performance.

Under strange acoustics, the first violin and the second violin are thus matched; when the intensity of the two voices is just matched, the port of the association is close at hand.A figure so familiar was right on the shore; the red skirt fluttered with the wind, and his fingers moved so fast on the fingerboard that it was almost impossible to discern; feeling the change in the volume of the second violin, he couldn't help but look up Fleet in the distance.

As the ship docked, Albinoni put the violin into the violin case and couldn't wait to jump from the ship to the shore.When old friends met, they were somewhat surprised: Albinoni was still not very accustomed to Vivaldi's new appearance, even though he had seen it in Linbo for just a few days; To his own surprise - his friend looks different from before.Thick and fluffy brown long curly hair replaced the original soft and soft short hair, and his delicate face also made his smile look more charming; wearing an orange coat, he abandoned Lin Bo's old dull black, making him The boredom was gone.

However, Vivaldi's tender and concerned eyes are still there; Albinoni's understanding and joyful eyes have not changed.The modification of appearance is only more in line with their inner soul.Like any two friends who reunite after a long absence, the summer enthusiasm of the Italian peninsula and the vastness of the blue ocean burst out in their hearts. They were enthusiastic, cheerful, excited... and all touching adjectives can be used to describe them. They hugged each other warmly Kiss each other on the cheek, inseparable.Finally, after the Lin Bo winter night's concert, the promise of the two was fulfilled, the twins of Northern Italy in the Baroque period were reunited, and the pearls that Venice was proud of were reunited.

The people at the scene, even if they couldn't participate and didn't understand the reason, were very moved.

Albinoni peeks over Vivaldi's shoulder, a well-dressed bloated middle-aged man, sheepishly avoiding the present scene. "Is it our Bach descendant?" Albinoni whispered to Vivaldi. "With your description, I can say that I am not so shocked by his appearance."

Vivaldi, blushing, gently pushed Albinoni away.

"Don't be shy," Albinoni blinked playfully, took out a letter from his pocket, and stuffed it into Vivaldi's hand, "This is the reply letter I wrote in Linbo, and I can hand it to you now." You; we shall never need messengers and waits to talk again."

Touching Vivaldi's soft wool roll, Albinoni continued, "But I still hope you read this letter... I also hope that Mr. Rousseau can read it too...Mr. Rousseau will be very happy, because The ice and snow on the Pergolesi cemetery melted very early this year, and there are many beautiful white flowers blooming..."

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1998.Italian pizza.

The doorbell of the dying old man's residence suddenly rang.

The family members opened the door to a strange young man.The family members wanted to dissuade him from leaving, because the 88-year-old man wanted to leave quietly; while the decrepit old man was calling, hoping that the mysterious visitor could come to his bed.

Albinoni came to Giasotto so silently, as if in Dresden in 1945.Because of the eternity of art, the Venetian musician still retains his youth, and his face is as moving and eternal as his music; however, the youth promised in the ruins of Dresden that year cannot escape the erosion of time and is already old.

It was for the promise and return of Dresden, but this meeting did not resonate with the strong desire of Giasotto or Albinoni.Everyone present saw the figure of the strange visitor, and saw the young man holding the hand of the old man, staring at each other in silence, with tears in their eyes; but only the old man on the bed knew who the visitor was and the past. .

There is no need for words and actions, no need for gratitude and repayment, seeing Albinoni in front of him at this moment, and finally being able to touch his so real and warm hands, Giasotto knows that he has fulfilled the promise he made in Dresden back then.

In the former kiss, the old man closed his eyes.

The soft version of G minor with thousands of twists and turns, revealed from this blessing kiss, bid farewell to the old man to the eternal dreamland.

The author has something to say:

As of today, all of "Melody of Silence" has been sent out. I hope this [-]-word novel has not left a bad impression on you; the speed of becoming a fan of these musicians is so fast and illogical, I just can't figure out why...

I originally wanted to put a story depicting Bach and Vivaldi in history at the beginning of the whole novel (that is, they have never seen it at all... and Vivaldi has no idea that there is a Bach in this world [hello]), but the time Urgent and I don't know how to insert a chapter at the front when so many chapters have already been published... So, let the follow-up of this novel solve this problem ~ <Melody of Silence> and RHUMA trilogy (Ether Wings, the portraits in the two mirrors, and the burning sky), they are all prequels. As for the follow-up, I should happily add it when I have time and brains!

Finally write a small postscript~

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What "Melody of Silence" and "Wings of Ether", "Portrait in Two Mirrors" and "The Burning Sky" have in common is that they are all prequels.The story focuses on the past and ends abruptly when the main CP just begins.But the difference in "Silent Melody" is that what I want to describe more is how people comfort themselves and paralyze themselves when they are in despair and depression and cannot escape; become bland.With celebrities as the protagonists, no matter how rough their experiences are, they are relatively successful and realize their self-worth; in this case, it is actually very difficult to write about the sorrow of ordinary people.In the past, in "Wings of the Ether", I described the human nature of Descartes and Pascal with the desire of mortals for family and love; "depicts individuals who are powerless in the face of the fate of the times.No matter which one they are, at least they have no worries about life and death, at least they have been remembered by the world. To some extent, they have long since ignored the deepest fear of human beings, death.

But "Silent Melody" is different.In a limited time, just like in our whole life; we have tried to do things that we thought were great, but now we are stuck in a powerless wait, neither can change the status quo, nor can we improve ourselves, all we can do is wait.It's a situation where hard work doesn't pay off, the same one we're in most of the time.When I started to conceive "The Melody of Silence", I was on the verge of being sad, depressed, and anxious, complaining about myself and others.I can’t say that it was Baroque music that soothed my anxious heart at this time, or that Mr. Vivaldi’s Adagio moved me to tears when I was depressed, or that his fate of being neglected for 200 years after his death made me lament, But it is true that these factors have made me feel much calmer.So what "Silent Melody" conveys is that no matter how desperate you are now, how powerless you are and how much you can only sit and die, don't be sad, even if there is no good future.What I asked Albinoni to say at the beginning of 02 in the extra episode "Albinoni in Dresden II" is exactly what I mean:

"In the face of the inevitable end, shouldn't we be optimistic... The attitude of the past is now a big mistake... Even a pessimist can't help but admit that the doomed ending is there, and neither sadness nor joy can change it. So why not dance the last dance before sunset? I realize now that death has nothing to do with any of us, because when we live, death never comes; when death comes, we are no longer there ... Lin Bo should be a blessed land, because after our body is destroyed, our souls can maintain their consciousness for so many years, and we can understand the situation of the world after death... You said that the sorrow of Lin Bo is everything in this world Doesn't matter to us anymore? No, don't be upset by that, because even when we're alive, how many things in this world have anything to do with us?"

In this way, extreme pessimism is also optimistic.

Talk about the character setting of "Silent Melody".

I feel that the characters in "Silent Melody" may be the most inhuman group of people I have ever depicted.I mean, their divinity has surpassed their humanity.Indifferent feelings in the face of disasters of oneself or others: no crying, violent quarrels, running away from home inexplicably, falling out in anger.This may be because the characters I want to portray are more religious than the ones I described earlier for Pascal and Descartes.

Here I have to say my judgment on whether Vivaldi is a moral priest or not.Many popular novels have described Vivaldi as a hapless priest who hooked up with girls and fooled around with his schoolgirls every day, but I judged by some academic books I read, he was actually not like that.Of course, this does not mean that he does not get along with any girl at all, or that it is impossible to have a good impression of any girl.After examining the fact that nun priests in monastery churches in Venice and other places in the early 18th century went in and out of brothels and hooked up with nobles (see "History of European Weathering"), I judged that Vivaldi was undoubtedly a relatively moral priest.In fact, there are not no historical materials that say he is moral, and scholars such as Talbot also believe that it is unreasonable to describe Vivaldi as a romantic priest.

Having established this, I had to accept the next inference of those scholars, namely that Vivaldi was in fact just a very ordinary and uninteresting person who bears no absolute resemblance to what his music portrays.He can be bombastic, pompous, desperate for money, restless in mind and body, composing operas for a living rather than purely for art.But he doesn't have to be, and he probably isn't. He is good at falling in love, suave, romantic, full of energy all the time, and humorous.In this way, I may have sacrificed the readability of my novel, because you only see a silent, tangled, and struggling character, immersed in religion or music every day, trying to numb his natural sense of anxiety.But this is indeed a truer image of Vivaldi that I have judged from reading the literature.

Let me talk about Mr. Bach again.I haven't written much about him in the novel, not because of my omissions, but because I know so little about his personality that I don't dare to talk about it.It is true that the first impression of Mr. Bach may indeed be rigorous, serious, and formal, just as I described in the novel.But should he be like this?Shouldn't it be seen that he loves his family very much from his moving to Leipzig for his children's education, writing a tutorial for his eldest son, etc.?Shouldn't it be seen from his writing cantatas to commemorate his parents who died early in his life that he was actually lonely and didn't want similar things to happen to his children?At present, I am still slowly digging through the literature, hoping to describe him as realistic as possible in the future novels, rather than subjective assumptions.