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A TALE FROM HOFFMANN
Excerpt from “The Sandman,” source of the Olympia act in
Les contes d’Hoffmann
…He was just writing to Clara, when he heard a light tap at the door; it stopped as he answered, and the repulsive face of Coppola peeped in. Nathaniel’s heart trembled within him, but remembering what Spalanzani had told him about his compatriot Coppola, and also the firm promise he had made to Clara with respect to the Sandman Coppelius, he felt ashamed of his childish fear and, collecting himself with all his might, said as softly and civilly as possible: “I do not want a barometer, my good friend; pray go.”
Upon this, Coppola advanced a good way into the room, his wide mouth distorted into a hideous laugh, and his little eyes darting fire from beneath their long grey lashes:“Eh, eh—no barometer—no barometer?” he said in a hoarse voice, “I have pretty eyes too—pretty eyes!”
“Madman!’ cried Nathaniel in horror.“How can you have eyes? Eyes?”
But Coppola had already put his barometer aside and plunged his hand into his wide coat-pocket, whence he drew lorgnettes and spectacles, which he placed upon the table.
“There—there—spectacles on the nose, those are my eyes—pretty eyes!” he gabbled, drawing out more and more spectacles, until the whole table began to glisten and sparkle in the most extraordinary manner.
A thousand eyes stared and quivered, their gaze fixed upon Nathaniel; yet he could not look away from the table, where Coppola kept laying down still more and more spectacles, and all those flaming eyes leapt in wilder and wilder confusion, shooting their blood-red light into Nathaniel’s heart.
At last, overwhelmed with horror, he shrieked out: “Stop, stop, you terrify me!” and seized Coppola by the arm, as he searched his pockets to bring out still more spectacles, although the whole table was already covered.
Coppola gently extricated himself with a hoarse repulsive laugh; and with the words: “Ah, nothing for you—but here are pretty glasses!” collected all the spectacles, packed them away, and from the breast-pocket of his coat drew forth a number of telescopes large and small. As soon as the spectacles were removed Nathaniel felt quite easy and, thinking of Clara, perceived that the hideous phantom was but the creature of his own mind, that this Coppola was an honest optician and could not possibly be the accursed double of Coppelius. Moreover, in all the glasses which Coppola now placed on the table, there was nothing remarkable, or at least nothing so uncanny as in the spectacles; and to set matters right Nathaniel resolved to make a purchase. He took up a little, very neatly constructed pocket telescope, and looked through the window to try it. Never in his life had he met a glass which brought objects so clearly and sharply before his eyes. Involuntarily he looked into Spalanzani’s room; Olympia was sitting as usual before the little table, with her arms laid upon it, and her hands folded.
For the first time he could see the wondrous beauty in the shape of her face; only her eyes seemed to him singularly still and dead. Nevertheless, as he looked more keenly through the glass, it seemed to him as if moist moonbeams were rising in Olympia’s eyes. It was as if the power of seeing were being kindled for the first time; her glances flashed with constantly increasing life. As if spellbound, Nathaniel reclined against the window, meditating on the charming Olympia. A humming and scraping aroused him as if from a dream.
Coppola was standing behind him:“Tre zecchini—three ducats!” He had quite forgotten the optician, and quickly paid him what he asked. “Is it not so ? A pretty glass—a pretty glass?” asked Coppola, in his hoarse, repulsive voice, and with his malicious smile.
“Yes—yes,” replied Nathaniel peevishly; “Good-bye, friend.”
Coppola left the room, but not without casting many strange glances at Nathaniel. He heard him laugh loudly on the stairs.
“Ah,” thought Nathaniel, “he is laughing at me because, no doubt, I have paid him too much for this little glass.”
For the full tale, see http://www.fln.vcu.edu/hoffmann/sand_e.html
BOOKS
Tales of E. T. A. Hoffmann, edited and translated by Leonard J. Kent and Elizabeth C. Knight. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1972.
- Seven of Hoffmann’s stories, including “The Sandman” and “Councillor Krespel”—two of the three used in the opera. Very helpfully annotated, so that when Hoffmann mentions a local or current topic, a savvy footnote explains the connection.
The Best Tales of Hoffmann. Edited with an introduction by E. F. Bleiler. New York: Dover Publications, 1967.
- Ten stories, including “The Sandman” and “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King.” Available at the Boston Public Library.
E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Musical Writings: Kreisleriana, The Poet and the Composer, Music Criticism, edited, annotated, and introduced by David Charlton; translated by Martyn Clarke. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004.
- Valuable insight into Hoffmann’s thinking, and his works that influenced German Romanticism. Available at the Boston Public Library.
ONLINE MEDIA
Piano-vocal score to Les contes d’Hoffmann in English and French:
http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/variations/scores/bhr7120/large/index.html
- Note that the Antonia and Giulietta acts are switched.
YouTube search for [Offenbach Hoffmann]:
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Offenbach+Hoffmann&search_type=
Original production photos from L’Opéra-Comique, 1881:
http://opera.stanford.edu/Offenbach/Hoffmann/pix.html
ONLINE READING
The Sandman, Hoffmann’s tale of Coppelius:
http://www.fln.vcu.edu/hoffmann/sand_e.html
Libretto of one version of the opera in French and English at Project Gutenberg:
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/15915/15915-h/15915-h.htm
Hoffmann’s story Don Juan—two different translations:
http://shirtysleeves.blogspot.com/2007/06/translation-of-don-juan-by-e-t-hoffmann.html
and http://global.cscc.edu/engl/265/HoffmannDonJuan.htm
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