Ex archivis: Werther in Italy
Is it really eighteen years since a heady combination of Tuscan sun and European novels engendered this little riff?
AH, WILHELM! How can life simultaneously and at the same time be so deliciously exhilarating and yet so perplexing? Why is my life such a trial?
Consider but this instance alone, about which I intend forthwith to enlighten you, and, as you at least are well-acquainted with the superfluously circumlocutory nature of my discourse, you will be able to savour in some small wise the essence of my dilemma . . .
For, how can I possibly select but two or three flavours from the myriad of different gelati which at any one time a typical gelataio may spread in temptation before my bewildered eyes? I cannot say: is it possible for me to select but a very few gusti and be content? How can I not have remorse for those that I have perforce eschewed — and thus hasten my greedy consumption, in order to be able to select and devour all over again?
And yet, dear friend, were this my only problem then, Ah! how happy should I then be with my life and lot. Che sciagura indeed, then, that this is not the case — for be warned, Wilhelm, that it is not merely a matter of which flavours to choose, but (and of equal import) in what combination.
For, no matter how individually flavoursome these ambrosial ices might be, three bland and mild tastes can hope to sate or to stimulate neither palate nor soul; while the juxtaposition of but two overly powerful gusti will engender such violent contention as was never beheld even by the light of Apollo’s golden rays beneath the walls of sacred Ilium!
No, dear friend — it is better by far that the three flavours should perfectly counterpoint and complement each other in the variety of their effect: for was it not indeed in such a combination that mighty Agamemnon, proud Achilles and artful Odysseus avenged fair Helen’s abduction?
Ah, Wilhelm — life to me has become such a trial; where should I be without my Homer . . . ?
[Und so weiter.]
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