Page 169 - Weiss, Jernej, ur./ed. 2021. Opereta med obema svetovnima vojnama ▪︎ Operetta between the Two World Wars. Koper/Ljubljana: Založba Univerze na Primorskem in Festival Ljubljana. Studia musicologica Labacensia, 5
P. 169
ntity-machines: the nationalism of hungar ian oper etta between the two wor ld wars
her rather attractive. The libretto reveals more about her father, Hermann
Werner, a Hamburg merchant who keeps his legendary wealth secret while
on holiday.
After the first scene, it becomes clear that the authors relied so heavi-
ly on their audience’s knowledge of operetta clichés, and thus did not both-
er to explain the causes, connections and motivations that form the plot.
They made a mockery of historical accuracy, setting the work in 1780, even
though Baden-Baden only became a fashionable spa in the mid-1800s, and
ignored how impossible it would be, in that warlike, revolutionary era, to
cross the seven hundred kilometres between Hamburg and the spa town
by stagecoach. The context of geographical, technical impossibility con-
notes the sociologically impossible. The impossible romance blossoms at
first sight between the impoverished Hungarian count and the rich Pol-
ish-Jewish girl, as the rich pretends to be poor and the poor pretends to be
rich. Trying to hide this reality, Choltay borrows his own lost castle back
from his cousin. He successfully keeps up appearances, presenting himself
as the lord of his own estate, and while the bon vivant/male lead moves into
the role of an intriguer/con man, in the post-war chaos this is less a case of
poor writing and more of a familiar situation.
The libretto is based on this impossible situation, and, unbelievably,
the count’s grandiose lie is never revealed. The Jewish merchant girl from
Hamburg becomes a Hungarian countess, probably without ever discov-
ering the truth. Of course the librettists somehow paper over the conflicts
in time for the finale, the villainous aunt is appeased, and Choltay recovers
ownership of the castle: the Hungarian count’s lie is perfectly suited to the
banality and impossibility of operetta.
The operetta’s framework of impossible situations is held together by
a single melody, heard for the first time in the finale of the first act. Musi-
cally speaking, the melody is a softened Verbunkos (military dance), while
lyrically it is more of an anthem, since it turns away from the experience
of existential and emotional impossibility, and towards an idealised real-
ity of Hungary, a faraway land of beauty and happiness. The audience is
confronted with a world that is idealised, yet declared to be real, combin-
ing the experience of yearning with the pathos of remembrance. For the
1922 audience, this vision of Hungary was just a distant daydream, as it also
is for Choltay in 1780. As the Trianon Treaty ended the First World War
and redefined the borders of the former Austro-Hungarian Monarchy, the
Hungary that Choltay yearns for no longer exists. The name of the Choltay
167
her rather attractive. The libretto reveals more about her father, Hermann
Werner, a Hamburg merchant who keeps his legendary wealth secret while
on holiday.
After the first scene, it becomes clear that the authors relied so heavi-
ly on their audience’s knowledge of operetta clichés, and thus did not both-
er to explain the causes, connections and motivations that form the plot.
They made a mockery of historical accuracy, setting the work in 1780, even
though Baden-Baden only became a fashionable spa in the mid-1800s, and
ignored how impossible it would be, in that warlike, revolutionary era, to
cross the seven hundred kilometres between Hamburg and the spa town
by stagecoach. The context of geographical, technical impossibility con-
notes the sociologically impossible. The impossible romance blossoms at
first sight between the impoverished Hungarian count and the rich Pol-
ish-Jewish girl, as the rich pretends to be poor and the poor pretends to be
rich. Trying to hide this reality, Choltay borrows his own lost castle back
from his cousin. He successfully keeps up appearances, presenting himself
as the lord of his own estate, and while the bon vivant/male lead moves into
the role of an intriguer/con man, in the post-war chaos this is less a case of
poor writing and more of a familiar situation.
The libretto is based on this impossible situation, and, unbelievably,
the count’s grandiose lie is never revealed. The Jewish merchant girl from
Hamburg becomes a Hungarian countess, probably without ever discov-
ering the truth. Of course the librettists somehow paper over the conflicts
in time for the finale, the villainous aunt is appeased, and Choltay recovers
ownership of the castle: the Hungarian count’s lie is perfectly suited to the
banality and impossibility of operetta.
The operetta’s framework of impossible situations is held together by
a single melody, heard for the first time in the finale of the first act. Musi-
cally speaking, the melody is a softened Verbunkos (military dance), while
lyrically it is more of an anthem, since it turns away from the experience
of existential and emotional impossibility, and towards an idealised real-
ity of Hungary, a faraway land of beauty and happiness. The audience is
confronted with a world that is idealised, yet declared to be real, combin-
ing the experience of yearning with the pathos of remembrance. For the
1922 audience, this vision of Hungary was just a distant daydream, as it also
is for Choltay in 1780. As the Trianon Treaty ended the First World War
and redefined the borders of the former Austro-Hungarian Monarchy, the
Hungary that Choltay yearns for no longer exists. The name of the Choltay
167
