Alex's Book Club: THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN by Thomas Mann

(This post was written in February and has sat around, partially because I wasn't sure if anyone would be interested. Thanks to a writer friend and fellow T. Mann enthusiast who encouraged me to just post the damn thing already)

In the used paperback section of a bookstore during a visit to my hometown of Berkeley, a plump, yellow copy of "The Magic Mountain" stood staring me in the face. As a youth, I'd always related the words "Magic Mountain" to an amusement park in Southern California. More recently, after seeing it on list after list of greatest novels of the 20th century I'd been meaning to pick it up. And there it was, in perfect condition (at the time that is...it's since been around the world and back, hence its now "less than perfect" condition) and going for about $1.99.

For the past two years, this book sat on my shelf, almost picked up, but foiled, usually by a more recent release (such as Black Hole Blues, which was exciting to read while still current). Then the unexpected winner of the 2016 Nobel Prize for Literature - Bob Dylan- mentioned it as a book he'd read and whose author he was extremely humbled and surprised be in the company of, in a note of acceptance. Although there was considerable debate over the choice of Mr. Dylan to receive an award designed for novelists (and never given to a songwriter), I feel it is a good choice and warranted. However, I'm sure Dylan would agree that however creative and impactful his own lyrics may be, one must extoll considerably more effort in order to appreciate the genius of Thomas Mann's 1929 magnum opus.

Throughout my reading of The Magic Mountain, I would, despite the compact paperback fitting neatly into the pocket of my long coat (just barely), refer to it as a "beast." And I'm sure I'm not the first to equate The Magic Mountain with a "mountain" of pages. Indeed, Mann's beast consists of more than 700 compacted pages. By page 200, you've devoted the same amount of time that you would to complet a more a typically sized book. Then you'd look at the remaining bulk and realize you're not even a third of the way through! Amazingly, however, this very experience perfectly ties into a central theme of the book: time and its variations of perceptibility.

More than once you'll have that feeling of the book being seeming infinite (though always enjoyable) and find yourself straight in the middle of a rumination of mankind's shifting relations with the ticking of the clock. It often feels as though Mann is right there with you, knowingly connecting elements of his story to your own conceptions of time as a reader. It was interesting to ponder these concepts right after reading Black Hole Blues, with its In depth discussions of SpaceTime.

It is also fascinating to realize that the "magic mountain" being described is Davos, Switzerland. Sound familiar? That's right, we hear about it on the news every year because today it is the sight of the annual meeting of the World Economic Forum. One can't help but wonder if the environment Mann is describing doesn't have some effect upon all the Hedge Fund presidents, Bank CEOs and other global financiers who descend upon the site each year.

Like other classic novels which I read and enjoyed in earlier years (Don Quixote, Moby Dick) and ones I read more recently and kicked myself for not picking up earlier (The Idiot, For Whom The Bell Tolls), this is one book in which I'm glad I didn't attempt as a younger man. I feel it helps to read this at a point in ones life where one has had adult experiences and developed the discipline to take on more challenging reading. Yet it is not the mere size of the book that is daunting, nor the plot.

In fact, the story-line is ironically simple: a young man visits his cousin in a mountainside medical clinic and ends up staying longer than planned. Things get complicated when the young man, Hans Castorp - who is very bright (studying to become a nautical engineer) yet sheltered (he has rarely left his small German town) - has an awakening that is simultaneously intellectual, scholastic and partly spiritual. Debates ensue about the virtues of mankind, the meaning of life and humanistic schools of thought versus the more holy-minded. These are initially triggered by a unique patient who is a scant few years older but with a towering scholastic disposition - a Italian named Settembrini. The intellectual level escalates with the introduction of Naphta - a professor who only appears midway through the epic novel. He instantly takes his place as one of the story's most important figures - a fiercely devout Jesuit who, like his good friend (but ideological foe) Settembrini, possesses a towering intellect for which to make a strong case supporting his own beliefs.

These sections of the novel - which read like university lectures - are almost Socratic in terms of dialogue and explore the books other main theme, in addition to time: science and human reason versus faith and religious doctrine. Here the book becomes a philosophical novel, on a level that feels far more intellectually sophisticated than certain other books that are thus labeled (which I won't mention). It is also encyclopedic in scope, in terms of references - historical, literary, religious, mythological and even linguistic (Italian, German and Spanish terms appear throughout Nd at one point the dialogue shifts to French for several pages). Ideally, this is a book read in a graduate program, with the aid of a patient professor of literature and adequate resources to look up the references. However these heady parts are broken up by various goings on at the sanitorium, including romantic crushes, scandals and other escapades. In fact, there is some adult content that seem quite racy for 1929.

Like The Idiot, The Magic Mountain begins on a train. There seems to be something symbolic of rail travel at this time, then a fairly modern convention and opening up of new worlds and experiences, with hints of unknown and portentous comings. Ironically, it was hard to read on the New York Subway, where I do much of my reading, because of the level of concentration required (more than once, this book caused me to miss my stop). However, I did read it on several flights, a ship, and finally, a cross country train, albeit a bit more modern (The Bullet in Japan) which I found to be ideal - a speedy sense of motion giving weight to a of feeling time's acceleration, and the ability to concentrate free from distractions, save for a terrific view, which included a sight fitting to reading a book with title of The Magic Mountain: Mount Fuji.




Closing thoughts: I'm very glad these "great books" lists and Bob Dylan got me to read The Magic Mountain. At the same time, I didn't really know what i was getting into. Like Tolstoy's War and Peace (which I've read) and Anna Karenina (which I haven't - it's on my list), this is one of those epics that you need to make time for. Plan it around a vacation or long period of travel. Prepare to forgo other books in the meantime as you need to stick with it and not take too many breaks to keep up with the flow. Bottom line: The Magic Mountain is something of a literary obstacle course for readers, requiring extra concentration, frequent rereading of passages, and pauses in order to look up terms and references. Yet it makes the time spent extremely rewarding. Climb it if you dare.