musicians of old

Chapter 808 "Debating the Subtle and Obscure"

The position of Superintendent of Sacred Music for the diocese is about to become vacant, presenting a rare opportunity.

Once Fan Ning can get into this position, the threshold for promotion to the rank of teacher will be lowered.

Fanning entered the monastery at the age of 14, first passing the examination to officially become a novice monk, and then rising through the ranks to become a lectern, exorcist, and clerk, a remarkable speed.

Even now, although his rank as chief scribe is still "assistant priest," it is mainly due to his age. In fact, he is already considered to be a deputy deacon (alderacon) in the monastery.

The previous directors of sacred music in Mertraun were all priests! They were only half a rank lower than the abbots of large monasteries like Bogret, but their administrative scope and power were actually greater, because the diocese had 16 monasteries under its jurisdiction.

Fanning is too young; ordaining a priest at 17 is too shocking. But if he were to become the director of sacred music, he would inevitably be appointed as a deacon. As long as he continues to accumulate experience, he will naturally become a priest when he gets older.

If he were truly a priest in his twenties, even the Pope would likely inquire about him upon hearing the news, and his fame and future prospects would be quite remarkable!

“There’s another option: assistant conductor of the Vatican choir,” Joan said.

"Although it's a menial assistant position, it directly serves the Vatican, and the Pope and cardinals are all watching. The platform is different too. According to my intelligence, one of the current deputy conductors of the choir is embroiled in a 'prostitution scandal,' and it will probably come to light soon. This position is no less prestigious than that of the diocesan superintendent of sacred music, but it's difficult to get information from the Vatican. Although I've gone through layers of connections to recommend him, I still need to figure out who else is eyeing this position."

"Overall, the first option is still the safest."

“Sister, I think,” Fan Ning finally spoke after a moment of consideration, “that the position of cathedral music director at Mertraun Cathedral Theological Seminary might be more suitable for me in the future.”

“That’s just a lateral transfer, you know? Both current directors of music are deacons. Even if you stay in the monastery, you can be promoted at the age of 20.”

“I know, but... everyone says monasteries are places of quiet contemplation, but I don’t think so. Nowadays, the registers are so diverse and complex that even copyists have to deal with a multitude of commissions from nobles. Theological seminaries are more focused on academics, and besides, the Theological Seminary at Mertraun Cathedral is the temporary residence of Guido Daletzo’s relics. I hope to devote myself to research there and one day complete the ‘Debate on the Obscure’.”

“The Discourse on the Subtle and the Vast?” Joan frowned.

“Yes, I have been studying this on and off for several years, but my job duties have taken up too much of my energy,” Fan Ning said.

Guido Dalezo's posthumous work, "The Discourse on the Subtle," is said to contain profound mysteries about acoustics and theology, language and poetry, divinity and spirituality, and even historical events and celestial movements!

Guido Dalezo instructed in his final moments that his remains be temporarily stored at the "Mercuraen Cathedral Theological Seminary," and that no key could open the casket containing his remains.

However, if anyone can comprehend and complete the book "Debate on the Subtle and the Obscure", even with a "clumsy and rough key like a nascent embryo", they can open the sarcophagus and thus have the right to keep the remains!
"When the Pope issued the decree, the seven cardinals, all well-versed in the doctrine, took turns trying to preserve the relics. Every royal family and monastery was eager to do so, but all ended in failure. You've been researching for years? And on and off? Fanning, it's not difficult for you to be transferred to the 'Mertraun Cathedral Theological Seminary' at the same level, but if you miss those two truly excellent promotion opportunities, who knows how many years you'll be wasted! And deciphering an oracle like 'The Discourse on the Subtle and the Obscure' is even more of a pipe dream!" Joan's tone became serious.

“Perhaps tomorrow, or perhaps until death,” Fanning simply said.

“It’s too early to talk about this now. Prepare your Easter music first.” Joan sighed after learning of Fanning’s thoughts. “I’m a little tired. Please go back. Thank you for your translation.”

“It’s my duty.” Fan Ning stood up, hesitated for a moment, and finally tentatively asked the question that had been lingering in her mind, “Sister, recently Dean Bogre arrested a ‘witch’ and imprisoned her in the monastery dungeon. Her trial is expected to take place during the holidays.”

"A witch? The 'Lucifer's Bride' from the Esterházy family?"

"Yes, it's that 'sacred music improvisation genius' Nancy with the strange birthmark on her neck. Not only her, but there have been an unusually large number of 'musical heretics' arrested recently. Many of the sacred pieces from the past have been reclassified as blasphemous and will probably be burned at the festival ceremonies. But the problem is, I think a large portion of these works—"

“From now on, don’t mention that old title, ‘genius of sacred music improvisation,’ in front of outsiders again,” Joan interrupted Fanning.

Fanning paused, taken aback. "You may not know all the details about the conflict between the Cardinal and several lords, the Hasthardzi family, and the other families that were drawn into the struggle, but you must at least know something, right?"

"I've heard something about it, something about tithes and indulgences, but specifically about Nancy or the other sacred music composers."

“Your Excellency, Scribe Fanning, may I ask whether your official position is with the Court of Sacred Music or the Inquisition?!” Joan’s tone turned cold.

Fan Ning stood in the middle of the study and remained silent for a long time.

Joan's gaze remained fixed on him relentlessly, but in this standoff, a subtle, helpless emotion began to fester.

“Let me tell you, if you want your ‘art serving divine conscience’ to become the ultimate truth in this world, there is only one place where it can be realized—” She pointed to the top of the study, “climb to the very top.”

"Didn't you want to finish 'Debating the Subtle and the Vast'? On the other hand, that is one way, a shortcut, but it requires you to be able to sit properly in your seat every single day! And it will still take a long time, not just tonight or tomorrow night!"

Fan Ning remained silent.

“Are you listening to me?” Joan asked.

Fanning looked up: "I would like to request an audience with Father Squiaben to receive the sacrament of confession. Could you help me schedule an appointment and see when it would be convenient for him?"
"What did you say, the sacrament of confession?"

"Ah."

“Alright.” Joan took a deep breath. “I’ll arrange the meeting for you, though it might be a few days later.”

Father F. Nikolayevich Squiaben.
In any case, the teachings and advice from older, wiser people are perhaps exactly what he needs.

It was late at night when we left the family mansion, and the rain started to fall again. The carriage left intermittent ripples on the bluestone road. At first, it made a textured, resonant sound, but as we traveled away from the town and through the villages, it became a chaotic, muddy splashing sound.

Fan Ning was already quite tired. He looked at the linen curtain of the carriage window, which billowed like dying lungs. Occasionally, when it was lifted by the wind, the crooked ruins of the confessional pavilion by the roadside came into view. The rough wooden cross was half buried in the mud. Wild irises even grew from a crack. The lamps that provided illumination briefly swept by, and the dark blue petals fell in the rain.

"Crack!!"

The coachman whipped the horse, startling a flock of crows perched on the road sign; the flapping of their wings blended into the denser darkness.

The outline of the monastery rose from the mist, some of the long windows still lit, including the guest rooms and the copy room of the Sacred Music Review Office in the west wing. They formed the only cluster of lights in front, like patches of dim yellow light behind frosted glass.

The carriage slowly made its way through the outer guesthouse area. From afar, Fanning could see many newly posted large sheepskin notices, with pine resin torches stuck in the iron railings of the sheds nearby, illuminating them as pale rectangles.

"INQUISITIO GENERALIS" (The Solemn Publication of the Almighty Father and His Earthly Court).

Fanning felt they were like musical scores laid out on an altar awaiting burning, or like wounds nailed to a dark world.

The notice of the Easter public trial has finally been issued, and its content is, of course, as expected.

"Whoosh!!—"

As the horse turned, a gust of wind blew away the outermost notice, and the parchment was slammed against the car window, the wet Latin text blocking Fanning's view.