Thomas Mann: The Magic Mountain

[Torontonian]

The Magic Mountain is Thomas Mann’s most well-known and universally-acclaimed novel. Synopses often give too much away, so I’ll just highlight the bare essentials. It's set in an early-twentieth-century health resort in Switzerland. Hans Castorp, “an unassuming young man,” plans a three-week sojourn to the remote sanatorium, so as to visit his tubercular cousin. However, for a number of unanticipated reasons he prolongs his stay. While there he meets a host of interesting characters – including an eccentric Italian humanist and a communistic Jesuit – and falls in love, of course.

In a letter to a friend, Mann summarized the novel as “a story with pedagogic and political overtones, in which a young man comes up against the most seductive of powers, death, and runs the gauntlet in a comic-gruesome manner, of the intellectual polarities if Humanism and Romanticism, progress and reaction, health and disease . . . The spirit of the whole is humorously nihilistic, and the bias leans rather toward the side of sympathy with death.”

Smoking is a recurring theme in many of Mann’s novels. The writer was himself a heavy smoker. According to one of his biographers, Mann as rule smoked “twelve cigarettes and two mild cigars a day.” For him smoking was serious business, a quasi-religious activity. In The Magic Mountain cigars act as something of a leitmotif. They are an integral part of the overall narrative.

Castorp exclusively smokes a brand called Maria Mancini, named after one of the famous “Mazarinettes” (see bottom paragraph). He avoids menial work as it is “something in the way of the unclouded enjoyment of the Maria Mancini.” When someone asks what brand of “lovely brunette” Castorp is smoking, he replies: “Maria Mancini . . . Costs little or nothing . . . Natural colour, but an aroma that you don’t normally find at the price. Best Sumatra-Havana wrapper, as you can see . . . It’s a medium mixture, quite spicy but light on the tongue. She likes you to leave her ash long – I knock it off twice at most. Of course, she has her little moods, but the quality control must be especially exacting, because Maria is very dependable and has an absolutely even draw.”

As intimated above, it was Mann’s captivating descriptions of cigars and cigar smoking that first excited my dormant cigar instincts. Before reading The Magic Mountain I had given scarcely any thought to cigars. They were, I thought, akin to cigarettes – unpleasant in taste and smell, habit-forming, disease-inducing; smoking was a youthful mistake that addiction carried into adulthood. (I was benighted, I know.) But Mann waved my misconceptions away, making cigar smoking tenable, stimulating, and worthy of contemplation. For instance, I had never heard anyone say that “if a man has a good cigar, then he's home safe, nothing, literally nothing, can happen to him. It's the same as when you're lying on the beach, because there you lie on the beach, you know? and you don't need anything else – no work, no other amusements.”

The Magic Mountain will be of particular interest to cigar enthusiasts, but I would heartily recommend any of Mann’s intellectually-engaging novels. (Doctor Faustus is my personal favourite, but Death in Venice, Buddenbrooks, and Tonio Kröger are also masterful.) As something of a caveat, it is worth noting that, while he is never gloomy in a maudlin way, Mann does generally favour a certain morbidity and ironicalness. And there is more than a touch of the macabre in The Magic Mountain. Also, while by no means a necessary prerequisite, a familiarity with post-Enlightenment – and especially fin-de-siècle – philosophy and literature contributes much to the overall enjoyment and understanding of Mann.

On a side note, at least two cigars have been created in Mann’s honour: “Thomas Mann” formerly produced by Hagedorn & Sons, and “Magic Mountain” made by Maria Mancini, a “Cuban-style” Honduran smoke. The latter, according to one reviewer, gives a "splendid performance at a bargain price," much like Castorp's "lovely brunette."

[jawofboston]

The Magic Mountain is Thomas Mann’s most well-known and universally-acclaimed novel. Synopses often give too much away, so I’ll just highlight the bare essentials. It's set in an early-twentieth-century health resort in Switzerland. Hans Castorp, “an unassuming young man,” plans a three-week sojourn to the remote sanatorium, so as to visit his tubercular cousin. However, for a number of unanticipated reasons he prolongs his stay. While there he meets a host of interesting characters – including an eccentric Italian humanist and a communistic Jesuit – and falls in love, of course.

In a letter to a friend, Mann summarized the novel as “a story with pedagogic and political overtones, in which a young man comes up against the most seductive of powers, death, and runs the gauntlet in a comic-gruesome manner, of the intellectual polarities if Humanism and Romanticism, progress and reaction, health and disease . . . The spirit of the whole is humorously nihilistic, and the bias leans rather toward the side of sympathy with death.”

Smoking is a recurring theme in many of Mann’s novels. The writer was himself a heavy smoker. According to one of his biographers, Mann as rule smoked “twelve cigarettes and two mild cigars a day.” For him smoking was serious business, a quasi-religious activity. In The Magic Mountain cigars act as something of a leitmotif. They are an integral part of the overall narrative.

Castorp exclusively smokes a brand called Maria Mancini, named after one of the famous “Mazarinettes” (see bottom paragraph). He avoids menial work as it is “something in the way of the unclouded enjoyment of the Maria Mancini.” When someone asks what brand of “lovely brunette” Castorp is smoking, he replies: “Maria Mancini . . . Costs little or nothing . . . Natural colour, but an aroma that you don’t normally find at the price. Best Sumatra-Havana wrapper, as you can see . . . It’s a medium mixture, quite spicy but light on the tongue. She likes you to leave her ash long – I knock it off twice at most. Of course, she has her little moods, but the quality control must be especially exacting, because Maria is very dependable and has an absolutely even draw.”

As intimated above, it was Mann’s captivating descriptions of cigars and cigar smoking that first excited my dormant cigar instincts. Before reading The Magic Mountain I had given scarcely any thought to cigars. They were, I thought, akin to cigarettes – unpleasant in taste and smell, habit-forming, disease-inducing; smoking was a youthful mistake that addiction carried into adulthood. (I was benighted, I know.) But Mann waved my misconceptions away, making cigar smoking tenable, stimulating, and worthy of contemplation. For instance, I had never heard anyone say that “if a man has a good cigar, then he's home safe, nothing, literally nothing, can happen to him. It's the same as when you're lying on the beach, because there you lie on the beach, you know? and you don't need anything else – no work, no other amusements.”

The Magic Mountain will be of particular interest to cigar enthusiasts, but I would heartily recommend any of Mann’s intellectually-engaging novels. (Doctor Faustus is my personal favourite, but Death in Venice, Buddenbrooks, and Tonio Kröger are also masterful.) As something of a caveat, it is worth noting that, while he is never gloomy in a maudlin way, Mann does generally favour a certain morbidity and ironicalness. And there is more than a touch of the macabre in The Magic Mountain. Also, while by no means a necessary prerequisite, a familiarity with post-Enlightenment – and especially fin-de-siècle – philosophy and literature contributes much to the overall enjoyment and understanding of Mann.

On a side note, at least two cigars have been created in Mann’s honour: “Thomas Mann” formerly produced by Hagedorn & Sons, and “Magic Mountain” made by Maria Mancini, a “Cuban-style” Honduran smoke. The latter, according to one reviewer, gives a "splendid performance at a bargain price," much like Castorp's "lovely brunette."

I am a huge Thomas Mann fan. I've read Magic Mountain about five times; Castorp's discovery of the gramaphone has got to be one of the greatest literary moments. And agreed that the cigar references are outstanding - the fact that his cigars don't taste good when he first goes to the sanitorium (altitude I suspect) and how sad that makes him is fantastic. I was really excited to recently pick up a great first edition of Mann's first book of essays.

[bolivr]

I like the sound of this. I have heard of Death in Venice but not the Magic Mountain. Will seek a copy for the summer comng up. Thanks for the tip!

[CigarmanTim]

great review

[mazolaman]

Yep,great review Torontonian.

While I havent read this,I have really enjoyed Dr faustus,the dryness of it is excellent.

[Peter11216]

The Magic Mountain ... – including an eccentric Italian humanist and a communistic Jesuit – and falls in love, of course.

In a letter to a friend, Mann summarized the novel as “a story with pedagogic and political overtones, in which a young man comes up against the most seductive of powers, death, and runs the gauntlet in a comic-gruesome manner, of the intellectual polarities if Humanism and Romanticism, progress and reaction, health and disease . . . The spirit of the whole is humorously nihilistic, and the bias leans rather toward the side of sympathy with death.” ...

Great comment on The Magic Mountain. I read this over a period probably longer than a month on my daily hour and a half bus rides to and from work. It's only now that you mention the importance of smoking in the book that I remember it, although I haven't read it for more than ten years.

At the time I remember being most impressed by the dialog between the Jesuit (who I believe was no longer in the order, is that correct), and Italian humanist. Perhaps, it's reaching, but this seemed to be mirrored by Castrop's relation to his cousin Joachim. I'm not sure what I would think now. My guess is that I would be more sympathetic to Joachim, who I remember as being a straightforward down to earth guy.

There is a passage in which Joachim gets incredibly annoyed by the sound of Castrop slicing apart countless pages in the books he's been studying. Ten years ago, I remember being impressed by Castrop's learning and reading, now just think how I would be pissed off, too.

Thanks so much for your great review. It is wonderful to remember this novel.

Pete