Maxis's Recipe for Happiness
by Meredith Willson
I guess the creed of all human beings embraces the desire to leave their mark on the moral world, when they pass to the immortal one. Maybe this is even the strongest of all urges of the human soul. Many men feel a fervent need to leave a son to carry on their name; noncreative people envy the Shakespeares and the Beethovens, as draftsmen envy the Frank Lloyd Wrights, and as the commercial artist envies the Rembrandts and the Raphaels. Maybe it's this kind of frustration that caused Henry Thoreau to remark, "the mass of men live lives of quiet desperation."
Well, I had a friend by the name of Max Terr. And Max taught me that genius is by no means an essential for escape from this "quiet desperation." Max had been associated with me as choral director for the past twenty years or so. Max was interested in almost everything; and considering that he was also a perfectionist, his interest was always a very intense one - even if it was only in a pencil.
Being a composer and orchestrator, he was constantly writing at the piano and he could see no reason to live with a clumsy pencil or a bad light, so he puttered and he searched until he found a graceful, dependable, thoroughtly efficient pencil and a fine light for his work, completely comfortable and satisfactory in every respect. Now, Max very casually included his friends in this continuous research of his, and no one knew Max ever took any of his suggestions lightly.
Since Max has gone, not a day passes that isn't a pleasanter day because of the things he left behind him. I have his particular kind of pencil in every pocket of every suit, on the desk, on the right table and on the piano. Couldn't live without 'em. I have the light with the flexible stand Maxie insisted I buy, so I no longer strain my eyes.
We have the world's greatest cookies at our house which Max sent one Christmas, after shopping all over town to find the best items to include in a basket for us. He found the cookies in a little shop as only he could patiently unearth such things. Now all our friends keep them around all the time. They call them "Maxie's cookies" without ever having met Max Terr.
"Tristram Shandy", Max told me one day, "is an old story with a tremendously inventive style. You like to write in the experimental forms. You have to read that book ... it'll give you a lot of courage in doing things your own way" - and it sure did. Another day, he said, "The colors in your music room make it difficult to have just the right kind of a picture in there, but you know, Meredith, I picked up a print in a little art store that I think will just do the trick. Here it is. Take a look at it - didn't cost hardly anything either."
In every room of our apartment there are memories of Max Terr. And lots of our friends swear by his patiently discovered items, passing them along to their friends ... praising "Maxie's cookies," "Maxie's music paper," "Maxie's pencils and piano light" without ever having known Max Terr. So I guess I believe pretty firmly that you don't have to be a Beethoven or a Rembrandt, or even a father, to leave a heritage to the mortal world. This is not a creed, exactly, nor is it a complete personal objective - or is it? Anyhow, I think if I leave behind me any part of the kind of things that keep Max Terr alive in the hearts of his fellow, I will have justified my brief hour of strutting and fretting upon the stage.
馬克西的幸福秘訣
梅雷迪思·威爾森
我猜想每個人在撒手塵寰之時都希望能在塵世中留下自己生命的足跡,這或許是人們心底最強(qiáng)烈的渴望。于是,很多人熱衷于生養(yǎng)子嗣來傳宗接代,才華平庸的人羨慕莎士比亞和貝多芬,就像建筑繪圖員羨慕建筑大師弗蘭克·勞埃德.賴特,商業(yè)美術(shù)家羨慕大畫家倫勃朗和拉斐爾。也許正因為這類可望不可即的煩惱,梭羅才會感慨,“大多數(shù)人的生活充滿隱秘的絕望”。
我有一位名叫馬克西·特爾的朋友,從他身上我明白了一個道理:要想擺脫這種“隱秘的絕望”,天賦絕非必備條件。馬克西當(dāng)了二十多年的合唱團(tuán)指揮。作為一名完美主義者,他的興趣廣泛,激情洋溢,哪怕一支小小的鉛筆也讓他頗費心思。
身為作曲和管弦樂編曲人,馬克西經(jīng)常在鋼琴上邊彈邊寫,因此他對鉛筆和燈光頗為挑剔,決不將就。他四處尋覓,終于找到了一種優(yōu)雅美觀、性能上佳的鉛筆和一盞優(yōu)質(zhì)的臺燈,各方面都讓人感到舒適稱心。后來,馬克西隨便一召,他的朋友便會加入他的“尋寶”隊伍,認(rèn)識他的人都會重視他的建議。
馬克西雖然走了,可他留給我們的一切讓每一天都能過得更快樂。我一直在用他慧眼相中的那種鉛筆,每套衣服的每個口袋里放一支,書桌、床頭柜和鋼琴上也都有,簡直是筆不離身。馬克西竭力向我們推薦的那種臺燈我也一直在用,它的底座可隨意調(diào)節(jié),我的眼睛因此不再受罪。
記得有一年圣誕節(jié),為了將一些天下最美味的餅干放在禮籃中送給我們,馬克西跑遍全城,不厭其煩,終于在只有他才能發(fā)現(xiàn)的一家小店里找到了。現(xiàn)在,這種餅干成了我們朋友家中的常備食品,雖然他們從未見過馬克西,也和我們一起稱這種餅干為“馬克西餅”。
“你得好好讀讀《項狄傳》,”馬克西有天這么對我說。“你不是喜歡嘗試不同的寫作風(fēng)格嗎?這本書內(nèi)容老套,但寫作風(fēng)格極富創(chuàng)意,會讓你更勇于特立獨行。”果然,我從中受益頗多。還有一次他說,“你那間音樂室的色彩與整體風(fēng)格不太協(xié)調(diào)。你看,梅雷迪思,這是我在一家藝術(shù)品商店挑中的版畫,效果肯定好。送給你,看——價錢也不貴!”
我們那套公寓的每間屋子都有馬克西.特爾留下的印跡。我們的許多朋友對馬克西悉心覓得的寶貝評價很高,將它們推薦給他們的朋友,他們對“馬克西餅”、“馬克西樂譜紙”、“馬克西鉛筆”和“馬克西臺燈”等等贊不絕口,盡管他們與馬克西素昧平生。所以我深信一個人要想在這世上留下些什么,不一定非得成為貝多芬或是倫勃朗,或是生兒育女。確切地說,這并非一則信條,也不完全是個人奮斗的目標(biāo)——或許有人覺得是吧?不管怎樣,倘若在我死后,我在指揮臺上的浮沉得失能讓我像馬克西那樣永遠(yuǎn)活在大家的心中,那我就不負(fù)此生了。
附注:
梅雷迪思.威爾森:是位作曲家、指揮家,后來成為紐約愛樂交響樂團(tuán)里的一名長笛手。