Always better than he thought though--and that's what I heard: the beauty, the soulfulness in the unfinished piece, I'm so grateful for your reads here, for intuition, your heart ...
Loved your description of D. as he sits at the piano and then the transformations in him that take place as he plays.
I'm a forever NEW YORK Islanders fan, even though i grew up in Manhattan. My contrarian streak.
Ovechkin is admired but hated by all non-Caps hockey fans. We cringe when the puck is on his blade. Loved the way you incorporated the TC Affair, the bowlers, the cricket origin of hat trick.
Wonderful. This piece left me dazzled by the range of references and engrossed in the wonderful details. The repeated mention of a hat-trick kept making me think of a bed-trick in a Shakespeare comedy, which somehow seemed to make sense. I understood D here a lot more, too. Someone who can't play a piece of music because it's not perfect is someone who quibbles over how life and words and actions all align.
The descriptions of Paris made me think of Walter Benjamin on Baudelaire: "For the first time, with Baudelaire, Paris becomes the subject of lyric poetry. This poetry is no hymn to the homeland; rather, the gaze of the allegorist, as it falls on the city, is the gaze of the alienated man. It is the gaze of the flaneur, whose way of life still conceals behind a mitigating nimbus the coming desolation of the big-city dweller.” Something like Benjamin's wonderful "mitigating nimbus" seems to be at work here.
I agree that Benjamin's "mitigating numbus" must be at work here. You give me insight into how we are stuck and into how D. quibbles in perfection.
Such an insightful read, I am lucky to have you as a reader: so studied and understanding of the operation of the lyric essay as it delves what has in fact happened.
I’m starting to wonder if you, even more than D, could hear everything he could never say in his silence, his unpolished, unfinished Shubert.
Always better than he thought though--and that's what I heard: the beauty, the soulfulness in the unfinished piece, I'm so grateful for your reads here, for intuition, your heart ...
Expressed pathetic feelings well.
Yes, pretty pathetic: the good, the bad and the foolish. Learning as I go ...
"I thought I heard his heart pulse, but knew it was my own."
Music in silence, Mary - gosh, yes. Another stunning chapter.
Oh my, thank you, Rebecca. And what a great way to describe how I felt: "music in silence" and its double entendre, too.
A few things that stood out tome:
Loved your description of D. as he sits at the piano and then the transformations in him that take place as he plays.
I'm a forever NEW YORK Islanders fan, even though i grew up in Manhattan. My contrarian streak.
Ovechkin is admired but hated by all non-Caps hockey fans. We cringe when the puck is on his blade. Loved the way you incorporated the TC Affair, the bowlers, the cricket origin of hat trick.
Means so much, David that you read all the way through and your details on the chapter, your reactions: You give me courage and I need it.
Wonderful. This piece left me dazzled by the range of references and engrossed in the wonderful details. The repeated mention of a hat-trick kept making me think of a bed-trick in a Shakespeare comedy, which somehow seemed to make sense. I understood D here a lot more, too. Someone who can't play a piece of music because it's not perfect is someone who quibbles over how life and words and actions all align.
The descriptions of Paris made me think of Walter Benjamin on Baudelaire: "For the first time, with Baudelaire, Paris becomes the subject of lyric poetry. This poetry is no hymn to the homeland; rather, the gaze of the allegorist, as it falls on the city, is the gaze of the alienated man. It is the gaze of the flaneur, whose way of life still conceals behind a mitigating nimbus the coming desolation of the big-city dweller.” Something like Benjamin's wonderful "mitigating nimbus" seems to be at work here.
I agree that Benjamin's "mitigating numbus" must be at work here. You give me insight into how we are stuck and into how D. quibbles in perfection.
Such an insightful read, I am lucky to have you as a reader: so studied and understanding of the operation of the lyric essay as it delves what has in fact happened.
"This tradition owes its history to cricket when a bowler knocked off three wickets and was awarded with a hat."
Part of my education for the day.
The melancholy is unbearable.
So is the sadness ... Thank you for reading and commenting, Jay.
"The movement of his brow, the corner of his mouth, the line beside his eye. I watched his body move through the piece." So visceral.
Thank you, Eleanor, my virtual friend. ... xo
I don't know anything about music but I love the way you describe how D. plays the music, how his body moves - just wow!
So kind, Isabelle.