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Dear Toshi, ..
by masako at 19:34
いつもご丁寧なブログ管理..
by mhara21 at 09:07
本日、英語版の訂正と同時..
by mhara21 at 18:30
グールドは、この間夢に現..
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このニーチェとピアノの写..
by grpspica at 08:45
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October 8, 1982 (31)

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.

b0071688_10564851.jpg



I see people with red and swollen eyes at the Conservatorium.
There is a gathering to mourn Glenn Gould’s death at the concert hall, and the principal is going to give a speech.

The notice in the corridor says:
“Volunteers for the memorial service for Glenn Gould, please gather
on October 15 at the St Paul’s Bloor Street Church.
All of you who were friends of Gould’s, let’s get together there!”

b0071688_10595049.jpg


In the afternoon, I went to 32 Southwood Dr.
Francis’ sister Christina is also at the Smiths’ house.  
Francis is a lady who lives with her family in the house where Gould
was born.

“I wonder what is Gould doing after his death?” says Christina.
I respond: “Since he was a happy person, he must be resting in
peace.”

Christina : “You believe Gould will be reborn?”
Me : “I don’t know. I wonder if Gould is Nietzsche’s reincarnation.
He resembled Nietzsche a lot.”

Christina: “Oh, you are interested in Nietzsche?”
Me: “Yes. There is a Nietzsche scholar in Japan who has an idea that
Nietzsche is Hölderlin’s later metempsychosis. The two of them are
quite alike.”

Me: ”I think Gould has passed away so early because I got attached to
him so much since I was 13 years old.
Christina: ”No, it’s love. You only loved him, that’s OK”


“Love? Is this Love? Were the feelings I’d had for Gould for 17 years
Love? I doubt it.”
That was how I felt in my heart.

 
Glenn Gould, who had been born in that house and had still lived there
well into adulthood, was listening to the conversation of the three of us.

Francis is a Catholic. When she would hear me talking about past, she
would tell me, “I believe in things like that.”
She always encouraged me with words like,
“When we first met, I thought you were completely different from other
Gould’s fans. You should definitely not give up meeting Gould.”

b0071688_1123755.jpg

 
I am walking from 32 Southwood Dr. to the Conservatorium..
All kinds of thoughts are spinning in my head.

…Who would have imagined this shocking turn of events?
The man who played music that had lifted my spirits and gave me so
much encouragement is no longer in this world. I have to go on living
without touching him, without seeing him.

Over my right shoulder I feel warm and soft spiritual presence.
- It cannot be! But it is possible… –
- It’s just that, I am not ready now. I am too confused…

The Himalayan cedar is still growing thickly in the park.
However, the shore of Lake Ontario that stretches its blue
surface far ahead seems melancholy.

In the evening I am going to a piano practice at the Conservatorium.
After 8 o’clock there are fewer lessons with teachers, and it is easier
for students to practice.

I noticed a sign pressing low at my cheek. My body is full of pain but
what I feel there is different from that pain. I don’t want to think that
Glenn Gould’s spirit is coming to me. I must not allow myself to lose
my mind under the influence of a spirit. I will just ignore it.

However, once my practice is finished and I am on my way down the
stairs of the main entrance of the Conservatorium I cannot help myself
any longer.

I ask, “Is it you, Mr. Gould, standing on my right cheek since this
afternoon? If it is you, could you please say something to me?”

That is when Glenn Gould’s words started flowing out like rain.


                          Translated by Saiko


next Canadian news articles about Gould’s death

to Japanese version of this page, October 8, 1982 (31)




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[PR]
by mhara21 | 2016-10-08 00:00 | 後追い日記82年 | Comments(0)
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