Sunday, April 23, 2006

A Daughter

Johanna Maria Anna Elisabeth, born 22nd March 1789, is lodged with the wet nurse and taking suck - I write, lying on my bed, facing the wall. ‘Milk fever,’ a voice whispers from behind closed door. ‘Unhinged by birth’ – like a rusty gate. No, no, they are mistaken. I am a failed milch cow, playing someone else’s figured bass. Do NOT feel pity for me. I am, you see, Freyfrau Anna Maria Walburga Ignatia Berchtold zu Sonnenburg - née Mozart. Ay, there’s the rub, who WAS Mozart but who IS no more. N.

2 Comments:

Blogger Dodo said...

But I do feel a sadness for you, dear Nannerl: the poignant metaphor of you 'playing someone else's figured bass' moved me and led me to ruminate upon times when that is how I feel - not that its meaning is clear, but perhaps it is when one is disconnected with one's inner being for a time. D

1:17 PM  
Blogger Nannerl said...

Exactly - we are disposed to, at disposal of and then disposed. Perhaps that is the human condition? As always, yours, N.

11:09 AM  

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