Buddenbrooks

“The general good cheer had reached its height, and Herr Koppen clearly felt the need to undo a few vest buttons; but unfortunately that was out of the question, since not even the older gentlemen permitted themselves such license. Lebrecht Kröger was sitting in his chair just as erect as at the beginning of the meal; Pastor Wunderlich was just as white and well mannered as before; the senior Buddenbrook had indeed leaned back a little, but was maintaining the finest decorum; only Justus Kröger was noticeably tipsy.”

This passage describes the strict adherence to social etiquette and decorum that the guests and hosts feel bound to uphold despite the festive atmosphere at the party. The importance given to clothing signifies the importance of appearance and propriety in 19th-century Germany’s upper-class society, where even slight deviations from expected behavior are noted. The contrast between Justus Kröger’s tipsiness and the others’ composure accentuates the tension between individual impulses and societal expectations. The Kröger family’s extravagant tastes in general and Justus’s hedonistic impulses in particular are used as examples of contrasting behaviors to the restrained, business-practical morals of the Buddenbrooks.

“Father—we sat here so cheerful this evening, it was such a lovely celebration, we were so happy and proud of our accomplishments, of having achieved something, of having brought our firm and our family to new heights, to a full measure of recognition and respect. But this acrimony with my brother, your eldest son, Father—let us not have a hidden crack that runs through the edifice we have built with God’s gracious help. A family has to be united, to hold together, Father; otherwise evil will come knocking at the door.

‘Humbug, Jean! The tomfoolery of an obstinate boy.’”

The discussion between Jean and Johann Buddenbrook highlights the Johann’s unforgiving stance towards situations that do not align with the family’s business reputation and social standing. Jean appeals to his father’s sense of legacy and invokes the importance of solidarity to prevent external threats from exploiting internal weaknesses. Johann’s dismissive response expresses his underestimation of the emotional and relational fractures within the family structure. Despite speech to his father, Jean ultimately follows his father’s example, rejecting a reconciliation with his brother to avoid diminishing the family’s wealth.

“It was obvious that greater hopes were to be placed in Thomas Buddenbrook than in his brother. He conducted himself sensibly, cheerfully, even-temperedly; whereas Christian seemed moody, capable on the one hand of the silliest comedy and on the other of behavior so odd that it would terrify his entire family.”

Mann contrasts the personalities and perceived potential of the Buddenbrook brothers, Thomas and Christian, based on the family’s expectations and assessment of their behavior. Although Thomas and Christian are children, their behavior and temperaments are scrutinized by the family and friends, with each act and gesture carrying significance for the family’s future legacy. Thomas is presented as the more reliable and promising sibling because he embodies qualities that align with the family’s values and aspirations, positioning him as the preferred heir to the family’s legacy. In contrast, Christian’s unpredictable and sensitive nature raises concerns about his suitability as a leader in the family’s business and personal concerns, reflecting the tension between individual temperament and familial expectations. The difference between the two brothers and the family’s treatment of them is one of the central focuses of Mann’s novel.

“To be called von Schilling, how wonderful that must be! Her parents had the most beautiful old house in town, and her grandparents were prominent people; but their names were simply ‘Buddenbrook’ and ‘Kröger,’ and that was a dreadful shame. Armgard’s noble status made the granddaughter of the stylish Lebrecht Kröger flush with admiration; but secretly she sometimes thought that that splendid syllable von would actually suit her far better—because, good heavens, Armgard hadn’t the vaguest how lucky she was. She walked around with those good-natured blue eyes, that heavy braid, that broad Mecklenburg accent and never gave it a thought. She wasn't at all elegant, didn't make the slightest claim to be, hadn’t any notion what elegance was. But the word ‘elegant’ was firmly fixed in Tony’s little head, and she was most emphatic about applying it to Gerda Arnoldsen.”

Tony’s admiration for the “von” prefix and her critique of Armgard von Schilling’s disregard for her aristocratic privilege reflect her deep-seated desire for a higher social standing and recognition, echoing the value placed on titles and perceived elegance in her family and community. Tony’s internal comparison and her belief that she would be more deserving of the noble “von” highlight her aspirations and dissatisfaction with her own status. Through Tony Buddenbrooks, Mann illustrates the theme of social ambition and the identity struggles within the rigid class structures of 19th-century Germany.

“She was quite aware of her obligations to her family and the firm, was proud of those obligations. She was Antonie Buddenbrook—Consul Buddenbrook’s daughter, who walked about town like a young princess, to whom Matthiesen the grain hauler doffed his homely top hat. Her family’s history was in her bones. Even the merchant tailor in Rostock had done very well, and the family had continued to prosper spectacularly ever since. Just as it was Tom's job to work in the office, her calling in life was to add to the luster of her family and the firm of Johann Buddenbrook by marrying a wealthy and prominent man. . .. Yes, this was certainly the right kind of match; but Herr Grünlich, of all people. She pictured him and his tawny whiskers, his pink, smiling face, that wart beside his nose, his mincing steps; she thought she could feel his wool suit, hear his bland voice.”

This quote illuminates Tony Buddenbrook’s complex relationship with familial expectations. Her pride in her family’s legacy and her awareness of her own role in furthering its prominence through a strategic marriage reflect her internalization of societal norms regarding duty and status. However, her disdain for Herr Grünlich’s physical appearance and mannerisms reveals her personal struggle between fulfilling her perceived obligations and her own desires and repulsions. Eventually, Tony chooses to follow the role ascribed to her by her family at the expense of her personal happiness.

“Ah, it’s all the same, Fraulein Buddenbrook—and, yes, I intentionally used your last name. Actually I should call you Demoiselle Buddenbrook, to do you full justice. Do people here enjoy any more freedom, equality, or fraternity than in Prussia? Barriers, social distance, aristocracy—here as well as there. Your sympathies are with the nobility—and do you want me to tell you why? Because you’re an aristocrat yourself. Ah yes, didn’t you know that? Your father is a great sovereign, and you are a princess, separated by an abyss from all us others, who don’t belong to your circle of ruling families. Sure, you can go for a walk along the shore with one of us for a little relaxation, but when you return to that circle of the chosen with their privileges, then it's off to sit on the stones.”

The speaker, Morten Schwarzkopf, the son of a working-class family, challenges Tony’s unconscious allegiance to her social class, pointing to the inherent contradictions between her personal sympathies and the broader social ideals her community and family support. Morten, inspired by revolutionary ideas that pit him against the financially dominant classes, exposes the invisible barriers that define social interactions and relationships, suggesting that true equality is unattainable within a society that inherently values aristocracy and class distinction, using them to define personal relationships and perceptions of self-worth.

“She smiled contentedly to herself. But then, suddenly, in the sound of the wheels she heard with perfect, unbelievably vivid clarity the sound of Morten’s voice; she could make out every word he said in his kindly, somewhat ponderous and scratchy voice, heard it with her very own ears—'We’ll both have to sit on the stones today, Fräulein Tony’—and that brief memory overwhelmed her. She felt her chest contract with pain and grief, she didn’t try to stop the burst of tears. Tucked in her corner, she held her handkerchief to her face with both hands and wept bitterly.”

Tony Buddenbrook’s reaction as she leaves the seaside resort of Travemünde to marry Bendix Grünlich whom she does not love, exemplifies the conflict between personal desire and familial obligation that defines Tony’s character arc. Tony had fallen in love with Morten Schwarzkopf, who remains her only love throughout her life. Nevertheless, she is forced to follow her family’s wishes and reify their social standing. The clarity with which she recalls Morten’s voice and words emphasizes the depth of her feelings, underscoring the emotional connections that persist despite physical separation and the passage of time. Throughout the narrative, even after two divorces, Tony recalls Morten’s words and repeats quotes from their conversations.

“The world was being turned upside down. Everyone wanted to revise the constitution and amend the qualifications for voting and the old citizens were wrangling. ‘Retain restricted voting rights!’ one side said, including Consul Johann Buddenbrook himself. ‘Universal franchise,’ said the others, including Hinrich Hagenström. And then there was yet another group who cried, ‘Universal restricted franchise,’ and some of them perhaps even knew what they meant by it. And the air was full of notions such as the abolition of the difference between citizens and inhabitants, or the easing of qualifications for citizenship, even for non-Christians. No wonder, then, that the Buddenbrooks’ Trina had taken a fancy to the sofa and a silk dress. Oh, but worse was to come. Things threatened to take a dreadful turn.”

This quote captures the social and political upheaval during the 1848 revolution in Germany, as perceived by the Buddenbrooks family, their business and their political partners. The debate between retaining restricted voting rights and advocating for universal franchise or a hybrid of “universal restricted franchise” reflects the broader national discourse on democratic reform and the challenge of reconciling conservative and progressive views. The mention of Trina’s (the Buddenbrooks’ servant girl) aspirations towards a silk dress and sofa symbolizes the threat to the social hierarchy posed by rising expectations among the lower classes, fueled by the revolutionary spirit of the time.

“Suddenly—the equipage was rattling down Burg Strasse now—something horrible happened. About fifteen yards on this side of the walls of the gate, which was just emerging from the shadows, they passed a band of noisy urchins at play—and a rock flew through the open window. It was a perfectly harmless stone, no bigger than a hen’s egg, flung from the hand of some Krischan Snut or Heine Voss in celebration of the revolution—certainly not out of malice and presumably not even aimed at the carriage. It entered soundlessly through the window, bounced soundlessly against the heavy padding of furs on Lebrecht Kröger’s chest, rolled just as soundlessly to the soft blanket on his knees, and finally came to rest on the floor.”

Mann captures a moment of chaos and unpredictability brought about by the 1848 revolution in which a seemingly harmless act of rebellion carried out by working class individuals directly intersects with the lives of the upper class. The incident carries symbolic weight, as the stone pierces through the carefully maintained world of Jean and his father-in-law, Lebrecht Kröger, challenging the existing social order and breaking the barrier between them. Although described as an insignificant act, the incident directly precedes old Kröger’s death, pointing to a larger thematic significance—the death of an old order at the hands of an emerging set of ideals, and an older generation’s inability to come to terms with the changing times.

“Johann Buddenbrook had taken no steps against his unscrupulous son-in-law. True, Tony and her mother had learned from several conversations just what dishonest means Herr Grünlich had employed to get his hands on the eighty thousand marks, but the consul was wary of having the matter made public or, worse, turned over to the courts. His pride as a man of business had been grievously wounded, and he wrestled in silence with the disgrace of having been swindled so badly.”

Mann reveals Jean’s internal conflict between addressing the fraud committed by his son-in-law and preserving the family’s public reputation. By choosing not to pursue legal action against Herr Grünlich, Jean prioritizes the family’s societal standing over seeking justice for the financial deception and the harm done to his daughter, whom he pushed into marrying a swindler. This decision reflects Jean’s struggle with personal pride and professional integrity, which aligns with the bourgeoisie’s concern of public perception and the importance given to familial honor and reputation.

“‘I want to tell you something,’ he continued after a pause, during which he tossed his cigarette through the wrought-iron grate into the stove. ‘I have occasionally given some thought to that sort of useless curiosity and preoccupation with one’s self—because I tended to be that way myself at one time. But I realized that it left me unstable, erratic, out of control. And for me the important thing is control and balance. There will always be people for whom this sort of interest in oneself, this probing observation of one’s own sensibilities, is appropriate—poets, for instance, who are capable of expressing the inner life, which they prize so much, with assurance and beauty, thereby enriching the emotional life of other people. But we are just simple merchants, my dear; our self-observations are dreadfully petty. At the very best, all we are capable of saying is that we take some special delight in hearing the orchestra tune up, or that we sometimes can't bring ourselves to swallow. But what we should do, damn it, is to sit ourselves down and accomplish something, just as our forebears did.’”

Thomas admonition to his brother Christian reflects a fundamental dichotomy within the family values between introspection, embodied by Christian, and action, represented by Thomas and the family’s entrepreneurial ancestors. Thomas sees self-curiosity and introspection as detrimental to their roles as merchants. Instead, he values stability, control, and contribution to the family legacy above personal emotional explorations, which he equates with art, signaling a view of Art as Destructive Force. This perspective underscores the broader idea of duty versus individuality, with each brother representing one of the two sides. While Christian chooses to pursue his personal desires, Thomas adheres to familial expectations.

“There are so many mixed emotions in all of us that can be read one way or the other. I adore Gerda Arnoldsen, ardently adore her, but I am not in the least inclined to delve deeper into myself to determine whether and to what extent the large dowry—a sum that someone cynically whispered in my ear on that first evening—contributed to my adoration. I love her, but it only makes me that much happier and prouder that at the same time I shall be gaining a significant source of capital for our firm.”

This quote illustrates Thomas’s pragmatic approach to all major life choices, including marriage. His acknowledgment of the dowry as a factor in his preference for Gerda as a bride reveals a view common in his social class of marriage as primarily an economic proposition. This candid admission underscores a recurring idea in the novel of the intertwining of family duty, business interests, and personal relationships. Like his father and grandfather, Thomas believes the economic advantages of a union are a major—if not the sole—determining factor. A love marriage that is not aligned with the family’s social and financial aspirations ends in disinheritance, as evidenced by the marriage of Gotthold to a wife of lower social standing and fortune.

“The fierce contempt in which Thomas held his brother—and the wistful indifference with which Christian bore it—found expression in all those trivial moments of life that can only manifest themselves among people thrown together in families. If, for example, conversation turned to the history of the Buddenbrooks, Christian could become wrapped up in a mood of high seriousness—which ill became him—and speak with love and admiration of his hometown and his forebears. The consul would immediately cut him off with an icy remark. He could not stand it. He despised his brother so much that he would not allow him to love the things he loved.”

Thomas’s disdain for Christian illustrates Mann’s exploration of familial relationships fraught with unspoken grievances and resentments. This dynamic also comprises the paradox of shared heritage; while Christian’s attempts to connect with their shared past are genuine, Thomas perceives them as insincere, further exemplifying rivalry between siblings and the family discord it creates.

“‘What is the matter with you, Thomas!’ Christian said, now seized by a fit of anger himself, which looked rather odd on him. He stood there in a pose not unusual for bowlegged people, bent in a kind of question mark, his head, belly, and knees shoved forward, and his round, deep-set eyes, as large now as he could make them, had a flush around the edges that spread down to his cheekbones just like his father’s when he was angry. ‘How dare you speak like that to me,’ he said. ‘What have I ever done to you? I’ll go, all on my own, you don't need to throw me out. Shame, shame!’ he added as a heartfelt reproach and accompanied the words with a quick snapping movement of one hand, as if he were catching a fly.”

The growing tension between the two brothers reaches a climax with Thomas dismissing Christian from the family’s firm and even the house. Christian reacts defensively, surprised by his brother’s contempt. The scene represents Christian’s pain and alienation within the family, as well as his deep sense of injustice and his desperate, albeit ineffectual, attempt to assert his dignity in the face of his brother’s attack. The rift between the siblings represents an additional step toward The Decline of the Buddenbrooks.

“Yes, here, Ida. You already know what I’m going to say. He’s torn completely out of his own world, and comes here, where everyone is so different, so much more rigid and ambitious and dignified, so to speak. I’m often embarrassed for him here—yes, I’ll admit it openly to you, Ida. I’m a truthful woman and I’m embarrassed for him, although that’s perhaps sinful of me. You see, several times in conversation he merely said ‘don’t’ when he should have said ‘doesn’t.’ People do that down south, Ida, it happens, even among educated people when they're feeling at their ease and it doesn’t hurt anyone, doesn’t bother anyone, it just happens and no one’s surprised. But here Mother glances at him out of the corner of her eye, and Tom raises his eyebrow, and Uncle Justus flinches and almost splutters, the way Krögers do when they laugh, and Pfiffi Buddenbrook gives her mother or Friederike or Henriette a look, and then I’m so ashamed that I’d just as soon leave the room, and can’t even imagine I could ever marry him.”

Tony’s speech to Ida the night before her suitor, Alois Permaneder, proposes reveals her acute awareness of the social and cultural disparities between her world and that of Permaneder. Her embarrassment for Permaneder’s breaches of etiquette—innocuous in his native environment but glaring in hers—reflects Tony’s internal conflict between her sense of duty as a woman who is supposed to make an advantageous match and her adherence to her social class’s standards. Eventually, the discrepancy between Tony and her second husband leads to the dissolution of the marriage.

“Do you know what Tom thinks? He’s saying to himself, ‘Anyone! Anyone who is not absolutely unworthy. Because it’s not a matter of a brilliant match this time, but solely of patching over the past as best we can with a second marriage.’ That’s what he thinks. And as soon as Permaneder arrived, Tom very quietly gathered information about his business, you can be sure of that, and when it turned out more or less favorable and solid, the question was resolved then and there. Tom is a politician, and he knows what he wants. Who showed Christian the door? That may be strong language, but that’s how it was. And why? Because he compromised the firm and the family, and in Tom’s eyes that’s what I do, too, Ida—not with deeds and words, but simply by being a divorced woman.”

Tony’s reflection on her brother Thomas’s pragmatic approach to her second marriage reveals a deep understanding of the familial and societal pressures she faces as a divorced woman, adding a layer of gender discourse to Mann’s exploration of social and economic prejudice. As she aligns with the same values—viewing herself and her Family Members as Links in a Chain—Tony perceives Thomas’s actions not as offensive but as strategic moves aimed at preserving the family’s reputation and the firm’s stability. At this point in the novel, Tony has completely internalized the prioritization of social standing over personal happiness.

“‘In the weakness of the moment!’ Tony cried. She jumped up, took two steps back, and feverishly dried her eyes. ‘In the weakness of the moment, Mama? What he forgot was the respect he owes me and our family name. He never understood that from the very beginning. A man who takes his wife’s dowry and simply retires. A man without any ambition, any drive, any goal in life. A man who has a gooey mixture of malt and hops in his veins instead of blood—yes, I truly believe he does. And then to sink to such a vulgarity as this with Babbit, and, when confronted with his own depravity, he replies by calling me a name…a name…’”

Tony’s speech to her mother reflects the stark discrepancy between her expectations and the reality of her husband’s character. Her critique of her husband’s behaviour brings to light a clash of values. Tony perceives her husband’s lack of ambition as a betrayal not only of her but of the Buddenbrook family’s legacy. This moment encapsulates Tony’s growing awareness of the sacrifices she has made in pursuit of maintaining her family’s social standing. Although she seems defeated after her second divorce, Tony maintains her ambition and allegiance to the family’s legacy until the end of the narrative.

“What people called Thomas Buddenbrook’s ‘vanity’—the attention he devoted to how he looked, the luxurious fastidiousness with which he dressed—was in reality something fundamentally different. It was originally nothing more than the attempt by a man of action to be certain that from head to toe he displayed the impeccable correctness that sustains self-confidence. But the demands that he made of himself and that others made of his talents and energies kept growing. He was swamped with private and public duties. […] If the most remarkable visible change in the man was an increase of ‘vanity’—that is, the need to refresh and renew himself, to restore the vigor of morning by changing clothes several times a day—the underlying reality was that at age thirty-seven Thomas Buddenbrook was losing his edge, was wearing out much too quickly.”

Thomas Buddenbrook’s meticulous attention to his appearance reflects his deep-seated need for control and self-assurance in the face of mounting responsibilities. This outward display of elegance and order is a coping mechanism for the increasing pressures of his personal and professional life, symbolizing his struggle to maintain the facade of success and competence. The deterioration of his vitality, masked by his sartorial meticulousness, is proof of the physical and psychological toll of his effort to uphold the family’s legacy.

“Yes, Tony. It may pass—just a little out of sorts, I’m sure. But I’m feeling older than I am these days. I have business worries, and yesterday, at a meeting of the Büchen Railroad Commission, Consul Hagenström simply rolled right over me, rebutted everything I said, practically had everyone smirking at me. I feel as if that sort of thing wouldn’t have happened before. I feel as if something is slipping away, as if I no longer hold it as firmly in my grasp as before. What is success? A mysterious, indescribable power, a vigilance, a readiness, the awareness that simply by my presence I can exert pressure on the movements of life around me, the belief that life can be molded to my advantage. Happiness and success are inside us. We have to reach deep and hold tight. And the moment something begins to subside, to relax, to grow weary, then everything around us is turned loose, resists us, rebels, moves beyond our influence. And then it's just one thing after another, one setback after another, and you’re finished. The last few days I've been thinking about a Turkish proverb I read somewhere: ‘When the house is finished, death follows.’ Now, it doesn’t have to be death exactly. But retreat, decline, the beginning of the end.”

Thomas’s admission to Tony about feeling older and less in control marks a critical moment of vulnerability and a profound change in Thomas’s disposition. His reflection that success and happiness are internal states speaks to the novel’s broader motif of the transient nature of success and the internal struggles of maintaining one’s position and confidence, obtained usually at a vital emotional price. Tom’s contemplation of the Turkish proverb suggests a profound awareness of the cyclical nature of life and success, implying that the pinnacle of achievement often heralds the onset of decline, a theme that resonates with the Buddenbrook family’s narrative arc.

“He remembered the impression that the catastrophe of '66 had made on him, and he called to mind the overwhelming, unspeakable emotional pain. He had lost a great deal of money—but that had not been what was so unbearable. For the first time in his life he had been forced to experience personally and completely just how cruel and brutal business can be, had watched as all his better, gentler, and kinder sentiments had slunk away before the raw, naked, absolute instinct of self-preservation, had seen his friends, his best friends, respond to his misfortune not with sympathy, not with compassion, but with suspicion—cold, dismissive suspicion. But had he not always known that? Was it his place to be astonished by it? And later, in better and stronger hours, how ashamed he had been of those sleepless nights of outrage and disgust, when he lay there feeling irreparably violated by the ugly and shameless cruelty of life.”

In this rant, Mann represents Thomas’s disillusionment with the merciless nature of the business world, especially after the financial catastrophe of 1866 when the Buddenbrooks firm registers major losses in the grain trading business. This experience of failure, marked by betrayal and a sense of isolation, contribute to the novel’s exploration of the cruel demands of a life dedicated to capitalist venture and the threat of losing wealth amassed over generations. Thomas faces the realization that the family’s downfall is a real possibility for the first time in his life. Having inherited his position in the family’s firm and grown up always surrounded by wealth, he never truly reckoned with the prospect of losing everything.

“But it was all over for Hanno. His head had sunk to his chest, and he was clutching at the brocade of the portieres now, the bluish veins visible on his pale little right hand where it emerged from the tight-fitting, navy-blue cuff embroidered with an anchor. ‘In meadows wide alone I stand,’ he managed, and then it was most definitely over. He was swept away by the sad mood of the poem. He felt terribly, overwhelmingly sorry for himself; his voice gave out for good and he could not stop the tears from rolling from under his eyelashes. Suddenly he wanted so much for it to be night, one of those nights when he was lying in bed with a sore throat and a slight fever, and Ida would come to give him something to drink and lovingly lay a fresh compress across his brow. He leaned to one side and, laying his head down against his hand, still clutching the portieres, he sobbed.”

This quote captures Hanno’s sense of overwhelming vulnerability and emotional collapse during a public performance. Such vulnerability puts Hanno at odds with the family’s tradition of Protestant resilience and pragmatism, as well as with his father’s expectations of having a disciplined, virile son who can take over the family’s firm and develop it further. Hanno’s desire for the comforting presence of his governess, his longing for the safety and care of his bed, reflects a yearning for maternal warmth and a rejection of his father’s sternness.

“There is a form of depression in which everything that would normally annoy us and arouse a healthy response of anger, weighs down upon us instead, eliciting only dull, gloomy silence. And so Thomas brooded over the way little Johann had behaved, brooded over his reaction to this whole celebration, and still more over emotions that, try as he would, he was incapable of feeling. Several times he attempted to pull himself together, to put on a cheerful expression, and to tell himself that this was a beautiful day, a day that should only elevate his mood and fill him with joy. But although the sound of the instruments, the confusion of voices, and the sight of all these people jangled on his nerves and merged with memories of the past and his father, calling up a faint wave of emotion, the predominant feeling was a sense that the whole affair was absurd and embarrassing-second-rate music distorted by bad acoustics, banal people engaging in banal conversation about stock prices and banquets. And the blend of sentiment and anger plunged him ever deeper into gloomy despair.”

This quote depicts the disconnect Thomas feels between external expectations and internal emotional reality in the context of mental exhaustion. The cacophony of the celebration becomes a metaphor for his internal chaos, where even attempts at joy are overshadowed by a sense of futility and disconnection, signifying his deepening detachment from both the present and his own desires for emotional fulfillment.

“And I hoped to live on in my son? In another personality, even weaker, more fearful, more wavering than my own? What childish, misguided nonsense! What good does a son do me? I don't need a son. And where will I be once I am dead? It's so dazzlingly clear, so overwhelmingly simple. I will be a part of all those who say, who have ever said, or will say ‘I’: and, most especially, a part of those who say it more forcibly, joyfully, powerfully. A boy is growing up somewhere in the world, and he is well equipped and well formed, capable of developing his talents, tall and straight and untroubled, pure and fierce and vigorous—just to look at him increases the joy of the joyful and drives the unhappy to despair. That boy is my son. He is me or will be soon, soon, as soon as death frees me from this wretched delusion that I am not both him and me.”

Thomas’s key moment of existential realization after his encounter with the philosophy of Arthur Schopenhauer forces him to confront his attachment to the notion of individual legacy and the continuity of the self beyond death. His reflection dismisses the traditional view of lineage and inheritance through one’s offspring, suggesting instead a more universal connection with the collective human experience. This moment signifies a philosophical shift from seeking personal perpetuity in his son to embracing a broader, more abstract sense of identity, where his essence merges with the vitality and collective consciousness of humanity. However, Thomas soon forgets this moment, returns to the religiousness learnt from his father, and succumbs to his ailing body and despairing mind.