Chapter 143
The Pianist's Village, Beethoven's house.
Behind Beethoven, sitting on a single sofa, stood Chopin, Liszt, and Schubert.
Rachmaninoff stood in a military posture, and next to him, Soo-hyun was talking about past events.
Beethoven calmly listened to Soo-hyun's story, Chopin and Liszt looked at Rachmaninoff with frightening eyes, and Schubert, as always, looked only at Soo-hyun with a sad smile.
Beethoven asked after listening to Soo-hyun's words to the end.
"Well, what do you think? Was that Alan guy trying to use you?"
Soo-hyun thought for a moment and then said.
"Alan said he came to use me. But he also said that I was there to use him and get what I wanted."
"Well, that's not to say you're using him, but that it's a contract."
"Is it a contract?"
"Yes, the world is run by contracts. Bosses hire employees and pay them a salary to take advantage of their labor, and employees go to the company to work and receive a salary. That's how the world works. It's not so bad. Hey, what do you think?"
When Beethoven turned around, Schubert smiled broadly and said,
"It's something that saves lives, so I don't think there's anything to lose."
Chopin, who was staring at Rachmaninoff, saw Beethoven turn his gaze to him and quickly lowered his head a little and said.
"I think so too."
Beethoven nodded and looked at Liszt, then shook his head when he saw Rachmaninoff still muttering, "Give me back my cute Soo-hyun."
Beethoven, touching his forehead as if his head were throbbing, asked,
"But what on earth is that elephant beast?"
"Don't you remember the Schönbrunn Zoo (Tiergarten)?" said Schubert.
"Huh? You mean the zoo founded in Austria by Francis I, Holy Roman Emperor, in 1752?"
"Yes, it was a menagerie exclusively for the imperial family, but it was opened to the public in 1779."
"I remember. I went there too. There were so many interesting animals."
"There it is, a huge animal with a gray body."
"Huh? Ah! You mean that animal with that long nose?"
"Haha. Yes, that's right."
"That… that guy who pooped in front of me. I watched him for a while because I was curious how long he would keep pooping, and in one go he pooped as much as I ate in a month. He's an amazing guy."
'It's amazing that you put up with that much crap. It's so Beethovenian.'
Schubert covered his mouth as if he were about to burst out laughing. Beethoven stared at him, as if asking why he was laughing.
Beethoven, who had been looking at him, looked back at Soo-hyun.
"By the way, what song did you play in Africa?"
Soo-hyun winked at Rachmaninoff, who was standing still.
"It was Mr. Sergei's song."
"Ah, I see. That guy's song is good. What song are you thinking of playing this time?"
"I haven't decided yet."
"Okay. He's the one teaching you right now, so tell him and decide."
"Yes, sir. By the way, are you changing the battery properly?"
A while ago, Soo-hyun bought two boxes of batteries and showed Beethoven how to change them. Beethoven nodded and said.
"Am I stupid?"
Liszt, who was staring at Rachmaninoff, said that with a resentful look in his eyes.
"No, sir! Didn't you always tell me to change it because you didn't know how?"
"Shut up, you punk!"
"Black...."
Soo-hyun smiled.
'It seems that Mr. Liszt is still being pushed around by Mr. Beethoven.'
Chopin stepped forward and said,
"But don't feel bad, you've seen it a couple of times and now you're doing it yourself."
"Phew...."
Liszt continued to look at Soo-hyun with aggrieved eyes and claimed that he was the one who changed it, but he finally closed his mouth because Beethoven glared at him with a frightening look.
"You," Beethoven said to Rachmaninoff.
"Yes!"
"What song are you going to play?"
"That is...."
"Don't give me another difficult song. Give me a song with meaning."
"Yes, sir. I will."
Liszt whispered to Chopin.
"Wasn't Wagner the musician that guy respected the most?"
"Yes, he was heavily influenced by Wagner, and his tone is particularly evident in his symphonies."
"You impudent brat! Professor Beethoven is right in front of you."
Beethoven turned his head and shouted.
"I can hear you, you punk!"
"My goodness...."
A prickly Liszt and Chopin furtively glanced at the distant mountains. Beethoven, with a flushed face, looked at both of them with his cheeks trembling.
Schubert smiled and gestured to Soo-hyun and Rachmaninoff to leave. Rachmaninoff moved slowly, watching the situation, but Soo-hyun was different. He approached Beethoven and held his hand tightly.
"Does your stomach hurt a lot these days?"
An angry Beethoven saw Soo-hyun. Beethoven's face brightened at Soo-hyun's pure gaze, and he even smiled slightly as if he had never been angry.
"You should practice more instead of worrying about other people's diarrhea, you idiot."
"Hehehe, I'm just saying hello."
"Why are you talking about shit as a greeting, you idiot? Go away!"
"Yes, sir."
Soo-hyun hugged Beethoven tightly as he sat down. Beethoven coughed for no reason, but it seemed he didn't mind Soo-hyun's aegyo. Soo-hyun hugged Chopin, Liszt, and Schubert alternately.
Liszt stared at Rachmaninoff as he held Soo-hyun's shoulders, seeing that they had become similar in size to his head. Rachmaninoff, in a still posture, had nowhere to look and continued to gaze at the distant mountains.
After greeting the gentlemen, Soo-hyun spoke to Rachmaninoff.
"Let's go back now, master."
"Hurry..."
"Yes?"
"How about we walk a little faster?"
"Why?"
Rachmaninoff looked back reflexively. When he saw that Chopin, who always had a warm personality, was looking at him with cold eyes, he shrugged his shoulders slightly and walked quickly while holding Soo-hyun's arm.
As if running away from something.
A little while later.
Rachmaninoff's house, Zelkova piano stage.
Rachmaninoff, sitting next to each other in front of the piano, placed a black and white printed painting on the piano stand.
"This painting is by the Swiss painter Arnold Böcklin."
It was a very depressing and dark picture. And it was even more so because it was drawn in black and white. Soo-hyun said as he touched the painting.
"This painting has a mysterious and gloomy atmosphere, as if the story of a myth has been captured in a picture. What is the name of the painting?"
"Böcklin didn't name the painting. A widow asked him to paint it to comfort her deceased husband, and he just left a note stating that it was a commemorative painting. However, others later gave it a name."
"What is it?"
"The Isle of the Dead."
"Wow, what a fitting title!"
A steep, reddish-brown rock wall hung in the center like a screen, and cypress trees soared majestically as if to pierce the sky, emitting a silent power. A dark and gloomy atmosphere hung over the island, but through the darkness, a man in white was seen quietly approaching the island, steering a boat carrying a coffin wrapped in a white cloth.
"Is the real painting also in black and white?"
"No. If I had seen the painting in its original colors, I wouldn't have composed the song."
'Write a song? Have you ever been inspired to write a song by seeing this picture?'
"Why?"
"Because I wasn't inspired by the original color palette. No, I was disappointed."
"Ah...."
"The artist himself. He was an old and alcoholic artist who mainly painted monsters and mermaids, and he painted pictures with a strong Germanic and fantastical character. He was considered a low-quality artist, but he became famous after this painting, The Isle of the Dead. He painted five different versions of the painting, but they all sold for a very high price. Do you know who bought the third version of this painting?"
"I don't know, it's the first time I've seen the picture itself."
"Adolf Hitler," Rachmaninoff said immediately, as if he thought he wouldn't know either.
"My goodness!"
"He liked this painting so much that he took a group photo in front of it during the visit of the Soviet foreign minister in 1940. Maybe that's why, but the German soldiers at the time loved this painting so much that they made postcards of it and each had one. The ironic thing is that they were also taken to the Isle of the Dead, just like this painting."
Soo-hyun said, looking at the boatman rowing the boat while carrying a coffin in the middle of an island floating on the black sea.
"Who is this boatman?"
"Charon, the boatman who takes the dead to the underworld."
"Oh, is it a myth?"
"Greek mythology."
"Well."
'I understand the general idea. But why is the professor showing me this picture?'
When Soo-hyun looked with curiosity, Rachmaninoff, who thought that was enough to explain the painting, said,
"Those elephants."
"Yes, sir."
"They say they are quite old elephants, is that so?"
"There are still some cubs left, but most of them are like that."
Rachmaninoff nodded and said.
"I'll ask."
"Yes."
"Was Toto scared as he walked towards death?"
"…"
Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of Toto's death. But in his last moments, Toto seemed to be at peace.
"No."
"How was he?"
"Rather, it was a look of peace in his eyes."
"That's right. Let me ask you another question. Those elephants are going to die in Africa, right?"
Probably. HUO would never send the elephants anywhere else, so they would spend the rest of their lives there before crossing the rainbow bridge.
When Soo-hyun nodded, Rachmaninoff put away the painting and said.
"Then that place will become an island of death for the elephants."
He removed the picture and placed the sheet music on the stand. Soo-hyun's eyes wavered as he looked at the title of the musical score.
"S. Rachmaninoff's symphonic poem The Isle of the Dead, Op. 29?"
A song titled "Isle of the Dead." And it had his professor's name on it. Soo-hyun looked at Rachmaninoff with astonished eyes.
"Master?"