You might not know yet that Chlodwig Werba passed away last Friday, the 25.1.2019.
Chlodwig was professor at the University of Vienna (ao. Universitätsprofessor) and served the University almost until the end with a dedication and loyalty that ranged from the carefulness with which he co-edited the Wiener Zeitschrift für Südasienkunde (WZKS) to the attention he paid in switching off all lights and closing all doors when he left in the evening. He was meticulous and extremely precise, always striving for perfection. He expected perfection and dedication from his students (and colleagues), but most of all from himself, because he regarded the study of Sanskrit (and of Indo-Iranian languages in general) as a sort of sacred duty, and every shallow study as a profanation.
His masterpiece, Verba Indoarica, has been used by students and scholars from all over the world. Others will remember his ability to move from Old Persian to Middle Indo Aryan languages via Vedic and Avestic and from a given Prakrit to Pāli and Sanskrit. Though primarily a linguist, he loved Sanskrit and Vedic poetry and though a “scientist” he spoke with enthusiasm of classical music (he played the piano throughout the weekend, he once told me).
If you also had the chance to meet him, read his work or receive his accurate comments on a piece you sent to WZKS, please feel free to share your experience in the comments. You can find some memories by, among others, Asko Parpola and Jan Houben in the January archive of the Indology mailing list.
A true Viennese character. In 2003 he told me he was playing all Beethoven piano sonatas, besides things Indian. WZKS is a grand example of editorship, certainly one of the best worldwide. R.I.P.
Dear Elisa, I am deeply saddened to learn from you of Chlodwig’s death. I am shocked, because he was only in his early sixties and seemed vigorous and engaged with life, the last time I saw him. During my years as one of his colleagues at the South Asia Institute in Vienna, I had many conversations with Chlodwig. He was a deep mine of information on matters connected with comparative and historical Indo-Aryan philology, the kind of precious colleague one consults and depends upon for trustworthy specialist information. Chlodwig often shared with me his reflections on classical music, which moved him deeply. On more general topics – never philology! – we sometimes disagreed, even vigorously, but we always found reconciliation after a few minutes and our relations remained strongly cordial. Chlodwig was an intense and passionate man, who loved Sanskrit and Indology as much as he loved classical music and his own instrument, the pianoforte, that afforded him joy and fulfilment beyond words. It is hard to know that he is no longer with us.
I asked myself why I had not seen Prof. Werba in the library of South Asian Studies this semester, where we use to regularly greet each other, him cautiously looking for a precise reference in a highly technical work, and me at my desk, where he would warmly greet me, highly pleased to see students at work, or sometimes ignore me if I was simply, not concentrated enough, wandering here and there in the library without (appearing) aim. When I met him last time, it was in the middle of last Summer in the quite empty and deserted library: semester holidays. It was also one of these really hot days in Vienna, I was wearing a large kurta pyjama to survive the ‘Hitze’ and he was wearing a casual shirt and a short trouser: these were our sign of being ‘in holidays’, casual but ‘at work’. He was totally delighted to see that I was (literally) sweating with him in the middle of this Summer, for the sake of knowledge.
This is precisely how I remember him, warmly encouraging genuine knowledge and extremely focused. I was his student for one semester, during which he did his best to bring us the most precise account of Sanskrit Grammar. Taking his class while doing a PhD in another field was definitely not the easier choice, and I probably ended up spending as much time for his weekly test and homework than in writing my thesis. But for all motivated, genuinely interesting and hard-working students, he was a fascinating teacher and an infinite source of knowledge and accurate erudition. I owe him a large amount of my Grammar, as poor as it would be from his perspective. Not only was I never bored, not only were each class an intellectual challenge, it was also fun. As long as he knew we were trying our best, he would also, after shaking his head at our very limited knowledge, end up laughing with us at the gap between what was for us a regulative ideal (his knowledge) and our (always wrong) answers. I remember telling him that I would be in India during the time of his exam: he first could not understand that I could even think of missing such a sacred opportunity for Sanskrit, but later on inquired at length on my research, and before all on my safety and well-being, going alone to Delhi – and agreed to give me an oral exam instead. When we did meet for his exam, I was obviously not good enough – and yet, he saw that I, indeed, tried to learn. He mixed the intellectual challenge of a test that was again, a regulative ideal that maybe, in my next life, I would be able to reach, with the reality of my worldly condition (along with large smile when my answers were finally acurate). At the end, while not grasping how I could seemingly understand the different types of compounds while making so much mistakes in concrete Sanskrit cases – after he gave me, quite frustrated, a lot of German examples – I ended up telling him: ‘come on, that’s unfair, you’re a German speaker, it’s easy, you have so many in your language, I can’t think like that in French!’ – he burst into laughter, conceding that it was true. We ended up extending the ‘exam’ into a comparative linguistic between French and German, and he gave me another class, trying to articulate it differently (unfortunately for him, I’m afraid it remains a regulative ideal too). His exigences and standards were high, but fully rewarding and ‘humorvoll’.
I learned much. I will miss meeting him in the library. He is a great loss to all motivated students and to his field of research. He is a great loss to your institute.
My condolences to his family, colleagues and students.
I received a further comment from a former student of Prof. Werba:
Ich habe auch viele sehr lebendige Erinnerungen an Herrn Prof. Werba und an ihn als einen Menschen mit einem sehr klaren und beweglichen Geist, durch alle Lehrveranstaltungen…, auch das erste Semester des Sanskrit-Sprachkurses mit Grundbedeutungen, die mich seither begleiten, und viele Begegnungen in der Bibliothek des Instituts, während oder außerhalb der Öffnungszeiten.
A message from Kiyotaka and Chizuko Yoshimizu:
We are extremely sorry and sad to hear that Chlodwig passed away so early. His untimely death must be a great loss for the Wiener institute of Indology and have been grieving his wife and family members, colleagues, friends, and students. In our stay in Vienna as Ph.D. students from 1990 to 1994, we regularly attended his classes of Sanskrit and Vedic. We were always impressed by his great enthusiasm for language. We had never seen a person who is so ardently fascinated in and devoted to the accuracy and beauty of Sanskrit language as Chlodwig. He was also very earnest and willing to talk about his deep love for classical music. He was especially an enthusiastic Wagnerian, and during our stay he was very glad to be able to appreciate the new cycle of the four parts of “Der Ring des Nibelungen” at Wiener Staatsoper. We remember that he often wore his favorite scarf which has the design of black and white keyboard of piano.
We express our heartfelt condolence
Kiyotaka and Chizuko Yoshimizu
Saitama, Japan
I heard about it some days ago from a friend from Vienna. I am so sorry… I met Chlodwig many years ago during my first visit to Vienna University. He was very helpful to me being a newcomer and it was him, a great music lover, who took me for the first time to the Viennese Opera (The Magic Flute, of course). During my subsequent visits he was always there, ready to talk and help. Dedicated and honest scholar. Hard to believe…
Many thanks to all of you for sharing your memories. It is hard to imagine that he is not coming back to knock at my door and ask me to make less noise!
The *memorial mass* for Chlodwig Werba will be on *Tuesday 19 March at 3pm (15h00)* in the Votivkirche in Vienna.
This will be a catholic service (mass), but of course everyone is very welcome! (The church is huge, so it would be great to be as many as possible.)
We are told: “Es gibt die Möglichkeit, selbst etwas zu sagen, wenn man das möchte. Dies müsste man aber vorher unbedingt mit dem Pfarrer absprechen, damit er das in seinen Gottesdienst einbauen kann. Die Kontaktdaten des Pfarrers liegen bei Frau Scheuba (alexandra.scheuba@univie.ac.at) auf.”
Many thanks for that. I would also like to add a link to the memories of Chlodwig from Karin Preisendanz and Torsten Much, on the website of the Institute for South Asian, Tibetan and Buddhist Studies: https://stb.univie.ac.at/ueber-uns/mitarbeiter/nachruf-chlodwig-werba/
For those who can’t be in Vienna for the mass on 19 March, but wish to participate in their thoughts / express their condolences nevertheless, I’ve started a list of names and will contact the priest (who has offered that people participate in the service) during the next days to ask whether he finds appropriate to read out the names during the service.
I am also thinking about printing the list, buying a card and giving it to Chlodwig’s family.
Anyone who wishes to have their name added to the list, please send a message to :
agnes.korn@cnrs.fr
Feel free to add a sentence or two (in German or English) if you wish to do so.
Best,
Agnes
this is unfair.I once was one of his students and his enthusiasm was adorable.His lectures were demanding and i never dared to come unprepared. He was one of those rare teachers who could lead students to their heights.He was a serious scientist and emotional.And this was the secret of his success.He could talk about grammar and morphology as if it was a crime story.He was so young This is not fair.I just learned that he died on my birthday.What a coincidence !
In March I always mailed him” nowruz mobarak”.This time he did not not answer himself, just one of these robots. I am still shocked .This is a loss.