A Sensation
Beethoven had just returned to Vienna from Heiligenstadt. In the preceding period, his hearing problems had become increasingly severe, to the point that he could barely hear anything even if someone shouted into his ear.
For a musician, nothing could be more terrifying. In his anxiety, Beethoven also suffered from severe diarrhea. After consulting a doctor, he decided to leave Vienna and go to Heiligenstadt, to recuperate.
In Heiligenstadt, Beethoven's diarrhea was resolved, but his hearing problems showed no improvement and even worsened, eventually leading to near-complete deafness. This plunged the strong-willed Beethoven into utter despair; he even contemplated suicide and left his brother a famous suicide note.
But Beethoven ultimately overcame despair with a courage that would make all of humanity proud, and returned once again to the heart of his music, Vienna.
In Vienna, Beethoven continued the habit he had developed in Heiligenstadt: every morning, he would leave his residence and, accompanied by his student Karl Czerny, take a walk in the nearby park.
Perhaps because he had successfully composed a melody that satisfied him the day before, Beethoven was in a very good mood. He strode forward like a legendary beast capable of parting the sea. Karl Czerny, still a young boy, trotted along behind him, anxiously looking around, afraid that his teacher would be run over by a suddenly appearing carriage—because his teacher, Mr. Beethoven, could not hear the sound of hooves or bells.
As Beethoven walked, he hummed the melody he had composed the night before. However, Beethoven couldn't hear himself humming, so the tune he hummed was completely out of tune—much like some people in later generations who listen to music with headphones and sing along—so much so that, apart from Czerny, who was following behind him and taking notes, no one could tell what the original melody was like.
Just as they arrived at the park entrance, a huge exclamation rang out. The sound was so loud that even Beethoven, who was almost completely deaf, heard it.
Beethoven looked up in surprise and asked, "Karl, what's wrong?" But as he spoke, the surprise on his face vanished—because he hadn't heard himself speak.
Just then, a student-looking boy with an excited expression hurried towards them, clutching a newspaper in his hand. The student kept muttering something to himself and occasionally clenched his fist and waved it in the air. Cheryl vaguely heard these words: "Strive... Go for it... To Paris... Long live!... Paris!"
Chernier quickly stopped the student and asked, "Sir, what happened? Has a war broken out?"
"War?" The student paused. "Yes, it's a war, a great march into the unknown territories of this world has begun, and I can't wait to join this glorious holy war!"
"Ah, sir, who exactly are we at war with?" Czerny didn't understand.
"And the unknown, and everything unknown! Just buy a newspaper and you'll understand! I'm rushing to the library now, ah... I've never felt so full of fighting spirit as I do today!" The student said this and ran off.
"Newspapers? That's right, newspapers." Cheryl looked around and saw a newsboy carrying a stack of newly printed newspapers, running towards them and shouting, "The French Academy of Sciences has established an amazing prize of one million francs to reward scholars who have made great achievements in exploring the unknown world!"
A crowd immediately surrounded him. Taking advantage of his small size, Cheryl squeezed through the gaps in the crowd. After a while, he emerged again with a newspaper in his hand and ran to Beethoven, who was smiling at him.
"Karl, your clothes are wrinkled," Beethoven said in broken English.
Beethoven could no longer hear his own voice, so when he spoke, he had difficulty controlling the pitch and duration of his voice, making it difficult for others to understand him. This naturally made Beethoven even more reclusive. Fortunately, Czerny was one of the few people who could understand what Beethoven was saying.
"Sir, take a look at this newspaper." Cherni handed the newspaper to Beethoven. "I couldn't get my hands on the 'Science Truth Daily' Businessman's Daily,' but the same story is there, and it's on the front page just like that."
Chernier knew that Beethoven didn't particularly like newspapers like the Businessman's Daily, which were full of mercenary sentiment. However, at that time, there were too many people and too few newspapers, so managing to snag even one was already quite an achievement.
Beethoven took the newspaper, and one line immediately caught his eye. "The French Academy of Sciences establishes the 'Prometheus' Prize, with a prize of one million francs!"
The phrase "one million francs" was in Arabic numerals, and the string of zeros was almost dizzying. The franc is actually worth significantly less than the pound sterling. In terms of gold content, one franc contains approximately 0.29 grams of gold, while one pound sterling contains about 7.32 grams. However, one million francs, converted to gold, is a full 290 kilograms of gold. Such a large amount of gold would be enough to drive most people who saw this news into a frenzy. Even someone like Beethoven, who considered money as worthless, was still somewhat shocked.
"The France really value science very much," Beethoven remarked.
"Isn't that right? One million francs, it's unimaginable. Don't you think so?" Cernier exclaimed.
"Karl, do you regret studying music?" Beethoven didn't actually hear Cheryl's lament, but the France emphasis on science really appealed to Beethoven, because in Beethoven view, talent and effort were just as important in science as birth. So when Beethoven asked this question, he did so with a joking tone and a smile on his face.
"No way, I get a headache just looking at numbers... Teacher, I don't think this is something we can do. Let's focus on writing the prelude to the Olympic Games first."
However, when Watt and his colleagues in Britain saw the news, they were not as calm as Beethoven.
"My God, this guy is so generous! A million francs in one go! So much money, he's become a millionaire overnight! William, are you tempted?" Watt asked his assistant, William Murdoch.
Murdoch chuckled, "I remember you mentioned this to me a few months ago. I recall that the award is for basic science, not technology. Basically, anything patentable, except medicine, is excluded from the prize pool. Well, Mr. Watt, I think I'm too old to switch to medicine. And neither is my son. Now we can only hope for my grandson, who's still somewhere out there."
"To be honest, Dean Bonaparte did mention something like that to me back then. He said that basic scientific research is no less difficult than technology—well, I think it's actually more difficult, at least I can't understand a lot of that damn math anymore—but researching basic science isn't like researching technology, where you can get patents for yourself. You can't invent a solution to an equation and then demand patent fees from everyone who solves it that way, can you?"
Therefore, he proposed establishing such a prize to encourage those who devote themselves to basic scientific research and to provide them with some financial compensation. After all, those who achieve great things in basic science are all very intelligent people, and if they used their intelligence for other things, they could probably earn even more money.
I wholeheartedly agreed with his proposal at the time. My only surprise was the France were so generous. I initially thought a prize of 10,000 francs would be incredibly generous. Oh, and by the way, he also invited me to be a member of the judging committee. As a member of the committee, I had the right to recommend a candidate and cast a vote during the selection process."
"So, sir, who are you planning to recommend?" Although he knew this matter was definitely not his concern, he was still very interested in who would be the lucky one to win the grand prize of one million francs. Yes, just being shortlisted was lucky, because even if he didn't win the grand prize, just being shortlisted would bring him great fame.
"Ah, that's the question. This year's awards are in mathematics and medicine. Frankly, in medicine, there's absolutely no suspense; it'll be that Ireland named Carroll. Well, in Britain, there are certainly many who don't want him to win because of his political stance... but considering his groundbreaking research on bacteria, I think this award is undisputed."
"And what about mathematics?" Murdoch asked.
"In mathematics, the competition is fierce. I intend to support Mr. Gauss, Dean Bonaparte's assistant. Although Mr. Laplace and Mr. Fourier are also highly regarded, I feel I prefer to support Mr. Gauss, even though he probably doesn't need my recommendation. It's a pity that in this year's two projects, we Britain have basically only been spectators. I would like to recommend a Britain scientist, but in the fields of mathematics and medicine, we are clearly lagging behind continental Europe. Hmm, perhaps I should raise this issue at the Royal Academy of Sciences of Sciences meeting this year."