The Loser by Thomas BernhardBy Hollis Giamatteo
For music lovers, perfectionists, and estheticians, Thomas Bernhard's The
Loser (1983) poses an irresistible drama of failed excellence. In 1953
three friends, among whom is the famed Glenn Gould, study with Horowitz.
Rarely sleeping, hardly eating, they burn intensely with the white and
ruthless flame of virtuosity. Only Gould ascends. But this is no
conventional narrative--neat, action-driven, or linear. It opens with the
specter of death--Gould's at 51, and a suicide. Art exalts even as it
destroys, when the aspirant is found wanting. Both Wertheimer, the
suicide, and the narrator turn their backs on their musical careers, thus
triggering their process of "deterioration." What is the
consequence of throwing it all away? And yet, what are the rewards of
realized genius? After Gould becomes, indeed, Glenn Gould, the two
friends go to visit him in Canada. "He had barricaded himself in his
house. For life. All our lives the three of us have shared the desire to
barricade ourselves from the world. All three of us were born barricade
fanatics."
Bernhard fans will recognize the restrained rant, the execution of an
idea carried to a logical, caustic extreme. The rant creates, of the
novel, a grand philosophical speculation: What is devotion to one's art?
What is it to truly understand one's art and to not misuse one's gift?
And, alas, The Loser can also be read as the profound consequence
of perfectionism, whereby all efforts to create or execute anything of
note are squashed in the critical mind's ruthless self-scrutiny. The
narrator works, for example, on his Glenn Gould essay for nine years,
grateful, in the end, that he has published nothing. "How good it is
that none of these imperfect, incomplete works has ever appeared, I
thought, had I published them.... [T]oday I would be the unhappiest person
imaginable, confronted daily with disastrous works crying out with errors,
imprecision, carelessness, amateurishness." The one regenerative act
seems to be that of self-destruction. Destruction, indeed, becomes the
flip side of perfectionist rigor. Thomas Bernhard (1931-89) was his own
unique genius and in The Loser, one of his most acclaimed novels,
he creates a chilling portrait of tragic compulsion, teasing and testing
our assumptions human behavior. |