The Pocket University entry for September 23rd is four poems by Percy Bysshe Shelley. Shelley was born in 1792, and died in 1822. Like so many great writers, he went substantially unrecognized during his lifetime, but his literary legacy is quite profound.
When I think of Percy Bysshe Shelley, I think of "Prometheus Unbound", a play published in 1820. Shelley's second wife was Mary Shelley the author of "Frankenstein: or, The Modern Prometheus".
From wikipedia, Shelley was closely associated with the poet Lord Byron. Other poets and philosophers who admired his works include Karl Marx, Mahatma Gandhi, George Bernard Shaw, Alfred Nobel, C.S. Lewis, and William Butler Yeats.
"To a Skylark", published in 1820, is the first selection.
The second selection is "Love's Philosophy"
Next comes "Good-Night", which I particularly enjoyed for its light, playful mood.
Finally, "To ---", which I'm not quite sure what to make of.
A rereading is probably in order on these and perhaps an updated post.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Shakespeare's Sonnets
The Pocket University entry for September 21st and 22nd is a selection of 7 sonnets (out of 154) by Shakespeare, including Sonnets 18, 29, 30, 71, 73, 106 and 116. Sonnets 1 through 126 are addressed to "A Fair Youth", a young man.
Sonnet 18 is the often quoted "Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day". Shakespeare writes that the love interest is better than a summers day, and more constant. This is the 4th sonnet in a series starting with sonnet 15 that claims to immortalize love in the written word. This theme of immortality through writing is also present in Ovid's "Tristia" and "Amores".
In Sonnet 29, Shakespeare writes that when things are not going well, he thinks of his love interest and feels better. Sonnet 30 is similarly themed.
Sonnet 71 advises the love interest to not mourn death, but instead, to let love fade rather than suffer from it. This theme contrasts with that of Sonnets 29 and 30, where love was what overcame troubling times or thoughts. Sonnet 73 is about love at the end of life. This wikipedia article references Joseph Kau's article "Daniel's Influence On An Image In Pericles and Sonnet 73: An Impresa of Destruction", which indicates Samuel Daniels, one of the auhors we read yesterday, influenced this sonnnet.
Sonnet 106 claims all prior literature that described beauty are merely inadequate prophesies of the love interest's beauty.
Sonnet 116 claims love is everlasting and immutable.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Sonnet 18 is the often quoted "Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day". Shakespeare writes that the love interest is better than a summers day, and more constant. This is the 4th sonnet in a series starting with sonnet 15 that claims to immortalize love in the written word. This theme of immortality through writing is also present in Ovid's "Tristia" and "Amores".
In Sonnet 29, Shakespeare writes that when things are not going well, he thinks of his love interest and feels better. Sonnet 30 is similarly themed.
Sonnet 71 advises the love interest to not mourn death, but instead, to let love fade rather than suffer from it. This theme contrasts with that of Sonnets 29 and 30, where love was what overcame troubling times or thoughts. Sonnet 73 is about love at the end of life. This wikipedia article references Joseph Kau's article "Daniel's Influence On An Image In Pericles and Sonnet 73: An Impresa of Destruction", which indicates Samuel Daniels, one of the auhors we read yesterday, influenced this sonnnet.
Sonnet 106 claims all prior literature that described beauty are merely inadequate prophesies of the love interest's beauty.
Sonnet 116 claims love is everlasting and immutable.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Shakespearean Contemporaries
The Pocket University entry for September 20th is two plays by poets who were contemporaries of William Shakespeare, and are compared frequently to one another.
The first is Michael Drayton, who provides the sonnet "Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part", first printed in 1619. This poem can be read online at my fellow blogger Brooklyn Arden's site.
This poem describes two lovers at the end of their relationship, with the narrator struggling to come to terms with the relationship ending. For 12 lines the narrator reflects on the certain end of this relationship, where two people once close will part ways, perhaps never to even be friends. In the last two lines, we see a secret hope that the lover will maybe, just maybe, do something to redeem this failing love.
The second poet in today's selection is Samuel Daniel. The wikipedia entry for Daniel ties several poets from the last few days together, including Thomas Campion, whose entry in the reading plan slightly predates the start of this blog. Various events of Daniel's life are closely tied to Edmund Spencer of "The Faerie Queene" fame.
Daniel contributes the poem "Love is a Sickness", which concludes act I of "Hymen's Triumph: A Pastoral Tragicomedy". It was published in 1615. To me the poem, taken out of context of its surrounding work, and presented by itself in the reading for today, seemed, well, whimsical. I failed to locate an online source for act I of "Hymen's Triumph", but evidently Hymen faces avarice, envy, and jealousy. In the context of the greater work, this poem probably becomes more of a lament, I would guess.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
The first is Michael Drayton, who provides the sonnet "Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part", first printed in 1619. This poem can be read online at my fellow blogger Brooklyn Arden's site.
This poem describes two lovers at the end of their relationship, with the narrator struggling to come to terms with the relationship ending. For 12 lines the narrator reflects on the certain end of this relationship, where two people once close will part ways, perhaps never to even be friends. In the last two lines, we see a secret hope that the lover will maybe, just maybe, do something to redeem this failing love.
The second poet in today's selection is Samuel Daniel. The wikipedia entry for Daniel ties several poets from the last few days together, including Thomas Campion, whose entry in the reading plan slightly predates the start of this blog. Various events of Daniel's life are closely tied to Edmund Spencer of "The Faerie Queene" fame.
Daniel contributes the poem "Love is a Sickness", which concludes act I of "Hymen's Triumph: A Pastoral Tragicomedy". It was published in 1615. To me the poem, taken out of context of its surrounding work, and presented by itself in the reading for today, seemed, well, whimsical. I failed to locate an online source for act I of "Hymen's Triumph", but evidently Hymen faces avarice, envy, and jealousy. In the context of the greater work, this poem probably becomes more of a lament, I would guess.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Porphyria
The Pocket University entry for September 19th is another poem by Robert Browning, one I am sure the gothic inclined among us would enjoy. It is "Porphyria's Lover".
This poem was published in 1836 in the "Monthly Repository" magazine. This is a dark poem, with themes of sexuality and violence, dominance and illicit love. Opening with a description of a stormy night, the mood is established. Porphyria enters, and the narrator describes her pride and vanity which prevents her from giving herself to him completely. Perhaps she does not share his interest in illicit love? In any case, she is at least emotionally distant and unavailable to the narrator.
So, he takes things into his own hands. Specifically her hair, which he uses to strangle her. An odd association occurred for me, as I have recently read "The Ninja" by Eric Van Lustbader. One of the female characters in that book is also strangled with her hair in a very suggestive scene with elements of domination and violence. It so happens that the Van Lustbader scene is written from the victim's perspectve. Porphyria's Lover is written from the assailant's perspective.
I found the poem very interesting, especially for the timeframe in which it was written.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
This poem was published in 1836 in the "Monthly Repository" magazine. This is a dark poem, with themes of sexuality and violence, dominance and illicit love. Opening with a description of a stormy night, the mood is established. Porphyria enters, and the narrator describes her pride and vanity which prevents her from giving herself to him completely. Perhaps she does not share his interest in illicit love? In any case, she is at least emotionally distant and unavailable to the narrator.
So, he takes things into his own hands. Specifically her hair, which he uses to strangle her. An odd association occurred for me, as I have recently read "The Ninja" by Eric Van Lustbader. One of the female characters in that book is also strangled with her hair in a very suggestive scene with elements of domination and violence. It so happens that the Van Lustbader scene is written from the victim's perspectve. Porphyria's Lover is written from the assailant's perspective.
I found the poem very interesting, especially for the timeframe in which it was written.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Friday, September 18, 2009
More Browning
The Pocket University selection for September 18th is couple of short love poems by Robert Browning, they are an 8 line excerpt from "In a Gondola", "Meeting at Night" and "Parting at Morning".
I'm cheating slightly, here. I didn't get a chance to do Friday's reading yesterday, so I'm backdating this post to yesterday. Hey, it's my blog, I can do that!
Browning's full poem "In a Gondola" is a discussion between two illicit lovers meeting in a gondola in Venice. Several references are made to avoiding "The Three". She is evidently married, and has two brothers, and the couple are trying to hide their romance from the three men, who will exact revenge on the male lover if they catch them. The excerpt for today is the first 8 lines of the poem, which Browing wrote to describe Daniel Maclise's 1842 painting, "The Serenade". "In a Gondola" is much more interesting in its full version, the excerpt did not touch me particularly.
"Meeting at Night" describes a man traveling to his love, arriving by boat, crossing the beach and fields, and tapping at her window at night. "Parting at Morning" is possibly the shortest poem I've ever read other than Haiku, spanning only 4 lines. Evidently the two poems were published together as "I. Night" and "II. Morning" in Browning's 1845 book "Dramatic Romances and Lyrics".
Of these three, my favorite is "In a Gondola" once I read the full version. I liked the other two also, but they did not "reach" me.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
I'm cheating slightly, here. I didn't get a chance to do Friday's reading yesterday, so I'm backdating this post to yesterday. Hey, it's my blog, I can do that!
Browning's full poem "In a Gondola" is a discussion between two illicit lovers meeting in a gondola in Venice. Several references are made to avoiding "The Three". She is evidently married, and has two brothers, and the couple are trying to hide their romance from the three men, who will exact revenge on the male lover if they catch them. The excerpt for today is the first 8 lines of the poem, which Browing wrote to describe Daniel Maclise's 1842 painting, "The Serenade". "In a Gondola" is much more interesting in its full version, the excerpt did not touch me particularly.
"Meeting at Night" describes a man traveling to his love, arriving by boat, crossing the beach and fields, and tapping at her window at night. "Parting at Morning" is possibly the shortest poem I've ever read other than Haiku, spanning only 4 lines. Evidently the two poems were published together as "I. Night" and "II. Morning" in Browning's 1845 book "Dramatic Romances and Lyrics".
Of these three, my favorite is "In a Gondola" once I read the full version. I liked the other two also, but they did not "reach" me.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
"Children's" Tales
The Pocket University selection for September 17th is a poem by Robert Browning. I expect most everyone is familiar with the tale told in this poem, but I for one did not read it in the form of a poem originally.
Robert Browning was born in 1812 in a London suburb, and died in 1889. The selected poem is a rendition of the familiar story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. In the Browning version, published around 1842, the tale follows what for me is the conventional storyline: A village overrun by rats is de-infested by the Pied Piper using a mystical pipe, but the town leaders refuse to pay him the agreed amount once he is done, so he pipes the children out of town. Here, my memory of this tale ends, I did not know what happened to the children. I frankly thought, and perhaps it happened this way in the version I read as a child, that the townspeople recanted, paid him, and the children were returned.
The literary history of the tale, however, is somewhat darker. In the Browning version, which is quite fairy tale-like, the children follow the piper into a magical portal or gateway that closes behind them, and they are never seen or heard from again. One lame child is left behind who explains what he heard in the music, about a magical land of plenty and joy.
Other versions of the story have the piper drowning the children in the Weser River, where he had previously drowned the rats, or piping them away into a cave or other inaccessible location and, pardon the euphemism, "had his wicked way with them". Both much darker endings than what I was familiar with. Definitely not the children's tale I learned. The rats apparently did not enter the Pied Piper story until sometime around 1559.
According to this article on wikipedia, there may apparently be some historical basis to the story. The town Hamelin does exist, and somewhere in the 1300s something may have happened to the children of the town, though the actual event is not known. Possible theories involve the children of Hamelin dying of the black death, being sold or recruited into a military or resettlement campaign, etc.
Again from the wikipedia article, a suggestion based on a 1621 account by Richard Burton, is forwarded by William Manchester in "A World Lit Only by Fire", in which the children of a town called Hammel are abducted and variously abused and slaughtered by a psychopathic pedophile in 1484.
I think I'll read some more Holinshed!
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Robert Browning was born in 1812 in a London suburb, and died in 1889. The selected poem is a rendition of the familiar story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. In the Browning version, published around 1842, the tale follows what for me is the conventional storyline: A village overrun by rats is de-infested by the Pied Piper using a mystical pipe, but the town leaders refuse to pay him the agreed amount once he is done, so he pipes the children out of town. Here, my memory of this tale ends, I did not know what happened to the children. I frankly thought, and perhaps it happened this way in the version I read as a child, that the townspeople recanted, paid him, and the children were returned.
The literary history of the tale, however, is somewhat darker. In the Browning version, which is quite fairy tale-like, the children follow the piper into a magical portal or gateway that closes behind them, and they are never seen or heard from again. One lame child is left behind who explains what he heard in the music, about a magical land of plenty and joy.
Other versions of the story have the piper drowning the children in the Weser River, where he had previously drowned the rats, or piping them away into a cave or other inaccessible location and, pardon the euphemism, "had his wicked way with them". Both much darker endings than what I was familiar with. Definitely not the children's tale I learned. The rats apparently did not enter the Pied Piper story until sometime around 1559.
According to this article on wikipedia, there may apparently be some historical basis to the story. The town Hamelin does exist, and somewhere in the 1300s something may have happened to the children of the town, though the actual event is not known. Possible theories involve the children of Hamelin dying of the black death, being sold or recruited into a military or resettlement campaign, etc.
Again from the wikipedia article, a suggestion based on a 1621 account by Richard Burton, is forwarded by William Manchester in "A World Lit Only by Fire", in which the children of a town called Hammel are abducted and variously abused and slaughtered by a psychopathic pedophile in 1484.
I think I'll read some more Holinshed!
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Holinshed's Chronicles
The Harvard Classics selection for September 16th is a selection from the Holinshed Chronicles. Holinshed was, among other things, a chronicler working for the printer Reginald Wolfe. Holinshed was tasked with compiling a chronicle of the history of the world, but in the end only "The Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland" was published, in 1577, with a second edition published in 1587.
The Chronicles occur as a series of articles that have been subjected to various attempts at systematization and organization through the years. The Harvard Classics edition of the Chronicles is drawn from an 1876 condensed edition, and occupies some 176 pages of text in this edition, with subject headings such as "of degrees of people in the commonwealth of Elizabethan England", "of cities and towns", and "of gardens and orchards". The degrees of people article describes the English population as having four classes of people: gentlemen (i.e. Nobles), citizens or burgesses, yeomen, and artificers or laborers.
yawn.
I was completely baffled at the inclusion of this material in a reading plan that up to this entry seemed to be comprised of the very finest selections from the best literature in the western canon. How did an encyclopedia by an author I had never heard of make the cut for this literature plan?
It turns out, Shakespeare used the 1587 edition of Holinshed's Chronicles as source material for most of his history plays, as well as Macbeth, King Lear, and Cymbeline. Every once in a while I get rudely reminded that I am not in fact a scholar of literature! This is one of those humbling times. You learn something every day if you aren't careful.
The selection from Holinshed for today is "of sundry kinds of punishment appointed for offenders". Among the items discussed is that thieves who confessed to their crimes were afforded the humane treatment of hanging by the neck until dead, unless they stole from the crown in which case first a hand would be chopped off then they would be hung until dead. Then, their property reverted to the crown. Very humane. And yet, many thieves did not confess. The odious thief who did not confess was pressed to death, with a sharp stone at their back, and a board on which heavy rocks would be piled on their chest. The benefit of not confessing is that property did not revert to the crown in that instance, but rather was retained by wife and children, so many accused would remain silent, accepting the fate of pressing, for the well being of their families.
In Halifax a special procedure was in use for thieves of livestock. A guillotine of sorts was used with a blade attached to a large block of wood, suspended from a rope. The blade and block would be suspended from the guillotine works with a pin, and a rope would be run from the pin to the animal that had been stolen. The animal would then be let to run, thus pulling the pin and dropping the blade and block combination to decapitate the offender. According to Holinshed,
"the head-block, wherein the axe is fastened doth fall down with such a violence that, if the neck of the transgressor were as big as that of a bull, it should be cut in sunder at a stroke and roll from the body by a huge distance."
Descriptions of punishments for many different types of crimes are compiled in this article. Particularly interesting for social commentary on the times, is a several paragraph discussion of Canutus giving authority to the clergy to punish whoredom, because he felt the penalties were too severe otherwise. In the hands of the clergy, "no severity was shewed except upon such lay men as had defiled their nuns."
Holingshed's Chronicles are available to be read online at Project Gutenberg. There is enough social commentary to make the reading interesting, and the historical context of Shakespeare provides a framework for appreciating the work's literary merits.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
The Chronicles occur as a series of articles that have been subjected to various attempts at systematization and organization through the years. The Harvard Classics edition of the Chronicles is drawn from an 1876 condensed edition, and occupies some 176 pages of text in this edition, with subject headings such as "of degrees of people in the commonwealth of Elizabethan England", "of cities and towns", and "of gardens and orchards". The degrees of people article describes the English population as having four classes of people: gentlemen (i.e. Nobles), citizens or burgesses, yeomen, and artificers or laborers.
yawn.
I was completely baffled at the inclusion of this material in a reading plan that up to this entry seemed to be comprised of the very finest selections from the best literature in the western canon. How did an encyclopedia by an author I had never heard of make the cut for this literature plan?
It turns out, Shakespeare used the 1587 edition of Holinshed's Chronicles as source material for most of his history plays, as well as Macbeth, King Lear, and Cymbeline. Every once in a while I get rudely reminded that I am not in fact a scholar of literature! This is one of those humbling times. You learn something every day if you aren't careful.
The selection from Holinshed for today is "of sundry kinds of punishment appointed for offenders". Among the items discussed is that thieves who confessed to their crimes were afforded the humane treatment of hanging by the neck until dead, unless they stole from the crown in which case first a hand would be chopped off then they would be hung until dead. Then, their property reverted to the crown. Very humane. And yet, many thieves did not confess. The odious thief who did not confess was pressed to death, with a sharp stone at their back, and a board on which heavy rocks would be piled on their chest. The benefit of not confessing is that property did not revert to the crown in that instance, but rather was retained by wife and children, so many accused would remain silent, accepting the fate of pressing, for the well being of their families.
In Halifax a special procedure was in use for thieves of livestock. A guillotine of sorts was used with a blade attached to a large block of wood, suspended from a rope. The blade and block would be suspended from the guillotine works with a pin, and a rope would be run from the pin to the animal that had been stolen. The animal would then be let to run, thus pulling the pin and dropping the blade and block combination to decapitate the offender. According to Holinshed,
"the head-block, wherein the axe is fastened doth fall down with such a violence that, if the neck of the transgressor were as big as that of a bull, it should be cut in sunder at a stroke and roll from the body by a huge distance."
Descriptions of punishments for many different types of crimes are compiled in this article. Particularly interesting for social commentary on the times, is a several paragraph discussion of Canutus giving authority to the clergy to punish whoredom, because he felt the penalties were too severe otherwise. In the hands of the clergy, "no severity was shewed except upon such lay men as had defiled their nuns."
Holingshed's Chronicles are available to be read online at Project Gutenberg. There is enough social commentary to make the reading interesting, and the historical context of Shakespeare provides a framework for appreciating the work's literary merits.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Wagner's "Die Walkure"
The Pocket University entry for Sept 15th is a short passage from "Die Walkure" by Richard Wagner. Today's reading is the first section of Act III of the opera, the scene where Wotan, the Warfather, pursues and catches the Valkyrie Brunnhilde, who has disobeyed him and saved the pregnant Sieglinde.
In this scene, Brunnhilde tries to enlist the aid of her sister valkyries to save Sieglinde from Wotan. Wotan has been manipulated into commanding the end of the Walsung line, including Siegmund (slain in battle by Hunding), and his bride Sieglinde. It turns out Sieglinde is carrying Siegmund's child. This reading selection closes with Wotan commanding the other Valkyries to leave he and Brunnhilde. Wotan then announces he will make Brunnhilde mortal and put her to sleep, to be claimed by any mortal who finds her. There is more to this scene, but that's the reading for today.
I mentioned yesterday I would try and find some music by Mendelssohn and Wagner at the local used book store. I did in fact find a decent selection of each. I got a glimpse of Mendelssohn the man from yesterday's readings of 3 letters by Mendelssohn, and listened to several tracks of his Scottish and Irish symphonies today.
More importantly for today's reading selection, I picked up a 4-CD recording of Wagner's Die Walkure (Act III includes "The Ride of the Valkyries") and took a listen to a few tracks of that opera. The German is unintelligible to me, but the music does convey the mood and the action, as should be expected. According to the Wikipedia entry for Ride of the Valkyries, Wagner composed the leitmotif for the opera in July of 1851, and completed the opera in 1856. Most everyone should probably recognize the melody from today's section of the opera. The MP3 for this theme is available from numerous online sources, including this example at one of my very favorite web resources, Project Gutenberg. Follow the link and enjoy a refreshing listen.
This Pocket University plan combines the 15th and 16th of September as one entry. I'm not terribly sure what thats about, as the selection is quite short, running only 25 pages of not terribly dense text. I might have to switch to the Harvard Classics plan for tomorrow. It's a selection from Holinshed's Chronicles, a record of Old English punishments.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
In this scene, Brunnhilde tries to enlist the aid of her sister valkyries to save Sieglinde from Wotan. Wotan has been manipulated into commanding the end of the Walsung line, including Siegmund (slain in battle by Hunding), and his bride Sieglinde. It turns out Sieglinde is carrying Siegmund's child. This reading selection closes with Wotan commanding the other Valkyries to leave he and Brunnhilde. Wotan then announces he will make Brunnhilde mortal and put her to sleep, to be claimed by any mortal who finds her. There is more to this scene, but that's the reading for today.
I mentioned yesterday I would try and find some music by Mendelssohn and Wagner at the local used book store. I did in fact find a decent selection of each. I got a glimpse of Mendelssohn the man from yesterday's readings of 3 letters by Mendelssohn, and listened to several tracks of his Scottish and Irish symphonies today.
More importantly for today's reading selection, I picked up a 4-CD recording of Wagner's Die Walkure (Act III includes "The Ride of the Valkyries") and took a listen to a few tracks of that opera. The German is unintelligible to me, but the music does convey the mood and the action, as should be expected. According to the Wikipedia entry for Ride of the Valkyries, Wagner composed the leitmotif for the opera in July of 1851, and completed the opera in 1856. Most everyone should probably recognize the melody from today's section of the opera. The MP3 for this theme is available from numerous online sources, including this example at one of my very favorite web resources, Project Gutenberg. Follow the link and enjoy a refreshing listen.
This Pocket University plan combines the 15th and 16th of September as one entry. I'm not terribly sure what thats about, as the selection is quite short, running only 25 pages of not terribly dense text. I might have to switch to the Harvard Classics plan for tomorrow. It's a selection from Holinshed's Chronicles, a record of Old English punishments.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Music, and Philosophy.
The Pocket University entry for Sept 14th is a letter from Nietzsche to a friend, written November 9th, 1868, in which Nietzsche talks about his introduction to Wagner (of Nibelung fame). The other entries for the week include several poems by Thomas Campion, three letters from the composer Mendelssohn, and a couple of poems by Percy Bysshe Shelley.
Nietzsche was a great fan of Wagner until quite near the end of his life. He had introduced an acquaintance to Wagner's music, and it turns out this acquaintance was also friends with Wagner's sister. A series of fortuitous events resulted in Nietzsche's name being mentioned to Wagner, who agreed to meet Nietzsche.
Nietzsche was very excited to make Wagner's acquaintance. Nietzsche writes of several amusing occurrences leading up to his introduction to Wagner, including a run-in with a Tailor, and adventures in bad weather, none of which seem to diffuse Nietzsche's enthusiasm.
Much has been written of the relationship between Wagner and Nietzsche, and in the end Nietzsche turned away from Wagner, writing "Nietzsche contra Wagner" in 1889. But this is the beginning of their relationship. It seems they got along quite well at the introduction.
The theme of the week is music and philosophy, so I felt I had to read a little more than one day's reading.
The selection for Sept 11th is 3 letters by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy
The first selection is a letter to Concertmeister Ferdinand David, on His Aims as a Composer, dated July 30, 1838, in which Mendelssohn discusses whether he can write music with the aim that the music be popular. He says basically he writes the best music he can, and whether it turns out to be popular is more or less not his concern.
The second Mendelssohn letter is to Professor Naumann, on the Musical Education of his son, dated Sept 19 1839, in which Mendelssohn expresses he is not a good music teacher, and encourages Naumann to keep his teenage son at home rather than sending him away.
The third Mendelssohn letter is to Herr Marc Andre Souchay on the Meaning of Music, dated October 15, 1842, in which Mendelssohn says he can't put what he sees as the "meaning of music" into words because the music speaks for itself, and words are too ambiguous in meaning to convey the meaning of music.
So from these letters we get just a glimpse of Mendelssohn the man, as opposed to Mendelssohn the composer. Someone whose work isn't about other people's opinions, someone who expressed the importance of family ties and home life, and someone who declined to bound the meaning of music with words because, for Mendelssohn, words cannot express what music expresses.
If I get a chance I'll hit the used book store and see if I can find some Mendelssohn and some Wagner in the CD selection.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Nietzsche was a great fan of Wagner until quite near the end of his life. He had introduced an acquaintance to Wagner's music, and it turns out this acquaintance was also friends with Wagner's sister. A series of fortuitous events resulted in Nietzsche's name being mentioned to Wagner, who agreed to meet Nietzsche.
Nietzsche was very excited to make Wagner's acquaintance. Nietzsche writes of several amusing occurrences leading up to his introduction to Wagner, including a run-in with a Tailor, and adventures in bad weather, none of which seem to diffuse Nietzsche's enthusiasm.
Much has been written of the relationship between Wagner and Nietzsche, and in the end Nietzsche turned away from Wagner, writing "Nietzsche contra Wagner" in 1889. But this is the beginning of their relationship. It seems they got along quite well at the introduction.
The theme of the week is music and philosophy, so I felt I had to read a little more than one day's reading.
The selection for Sept 11th is 3 letters by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy
The first selection is a letter to Concertmeister Ferdinand David, on His Aims as a Composer, dated July 30, 1838, in which Mendelssohn discusses whether he can write music with the aim that the music be popular. He says basically he writes the best music he can, and whether it turns out to be popular is more or less not his concern.
The second Mendelssohn letter is to Professor Naumann, on the Musical Education of his son, dated Sept 19 1839, in which Mendelssohn expresses he is not a good music teacher, and encourages Naumann to keep his teenage son at home rather than sending him away.
The third Mendelssohn letter is to Herr Marc Andre Souchay on the Meaning of Music, dated October 15, 1842, in which Mendelssohn says he can't put what he sees as the "meaning of music" into words because the music speaks for itself, and words are too ambiguous in meaning to convey the meaning of music.
So from these letters we get just a glimpse of Mendelssohn the man, as opposed to Mendelssohn the composer. Someone whose work isn't about other people's opinions, someone who expressed the importance of family ties and home life, and someone who declined to bound the meaning of music with words because, for Mendelssohn, words cannot express what music expresses.
If I get a chance I'll hit the used book store and see if I can find some Mendelssohn and some Wagner in the CD selection.
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Getting Started
I'm a little nutty about books. One way this has manifested is I seem to like books published between say 1900 and 1960. On the plus side much of this range is quite affordable. On the minus side, umm... there's an astonishing amount of it.
Several publishing houses marketed encyclopedic western canon classics sets of books in this timeframe, including Encyclopedia Britannica which published "Great Books of the Western World" in 54 or 60 volumes, plus a couple sets of 10 or so supplements. The set I have is the 54 volume edition.
Doubleday published the "Pocket University" in various editions starting somewhere near 1903, until at least 1934. The set I have is the 13 volume 1934 edition. Volume 13 in this set is the "Guide to Daily Reading" which includes the plan I'm proposing to blog about here. This plan calls for about 10 pages of reading a day from my initial overview, usually a couple pages from each of two or three selections.
Project Gutenberg has an etext of "Pocket University" volume 23 of the 23 volume edition published in the mid 20s, I think it was 1924. The reading list in that etext is quite a bit more demanding than the one I'm working on here.
I also have a 1909 edition of the "Harvard Classic Five Foot Shelf". I found a 1950 copy of the "Harvard Classics Reading Course" in my local used book store, and I'll be reading that plan also. It is billed as a "15 minutes a day" plan. Each entry looks to be somewhere in the 10 page range.
Sounds like fun, right?
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
Several publishing houses marketed encyclopedic western canon classics sets of books in this timeframe, including Encyclopedia Britannica which published "Great Books of the Western World" in 54 or 60 volumes, plus a couple sets of 10 or so supplements. The set I have is the 54 volume edition.
Doubleday published the "Pocket University" in various editions starting somewhere near 1903, until at least 1934. The set I have is the 13 volume 1934 edition. Volume 13 in this set is the "Guide to Daily Reading" which includes the plan I'm proposing to blog about here. This plan calls for about 10 pages of reading a day from my initial overview, usually a couple pages from each of two or three selections.
Project Gutenberg has an etext of "Pocket University" volume 23 of the 23 volume edition published in the mid 20s, I think it was 1924. The reading list in that etext is quite a bit more demanding than the one I'm working on here.
I also have a 1909 edition of the "Harvard Classic Five Foot Shelf". I found a 1950 copy of the "Harvard Classics Reading Course" in my local used book store, and I'll be reading that plan also. It is billed as a "15 minutes a day" plan. Each entry looks to be somewhere in the 10 page range.
Sounds like fun, right?
Comments are welcome, though moderated.
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