Technical note
This paper is the text underlying a student presentation which
the author gave in French as a member of a French language class at
Blackburn College in 1994. The full text was distributed to all members
of the class.
Title of the original essay: La musique française, existe-t-elle
This version contains some sections (e.g. Nationality and
Literature), which have not yet been incorporated into the French
version. Both versions have to be carefully compared and adjusted
before publication.
Music is often popularly described in
terms of nationalities, e.g. as typically French, as if 'French-ness'
were an inherent feature of such music. Similarly some people make an
issue of the question whether a piece of literature is English, as
opposed to American, to Irish, to Indian etc. Klaus Bung investigates
the general question to what extent national labels applied to works of
art are significant. His is a case-study approach. He takes
'French music' as an example, extends the investigation to 'English
literature', and asks how literature differs from music in respect of
such labels. He concludes that in music national labels are generally
not significant, but that similar labels are meaningful in literature -
not in terms of nationality but in terms of language. His approach is
often humorous. Since many readers will not be familiar with French
music, he tabulates important names and dates (with cross-references
from French to German music) and thus provides a potted history of
French music.
Klaus Bung:
Does French music exist?
La musique française, existe-t-elle?
An exploration of the difficulties
which arise if one tries
to associate art and style with nationality
Contents
Here were are, learning the French
language with great difficulty and much effort.
In the novel 'Tous les matins du monde' by Pascal Quignard,
the composer Sainte Colombe says: 'La musique aussi est une langue
humaine'(Music is also a human language) (p 71).
One says that music is an international language, i.e. that
everybody, regardless of his country of origin, understands it like his
native language. He does not have to make a special effort to
learn it.
Like so many popular sayings, this is obviously not
true. Indian, Arabic, Japanese and European music, to give just
some examples, are decidedly different from one another, and, if you
have grown up in one tradition, you cannot without an enormous effort
understand and appreciate the other tradition.
Alors, tandis que la musique peut-être est une langue humaine,
elle n'est point une langue internationale.
It therefore makes sense to ask whether European music is a
family of related languages (like the Indo-European languages or the
Romance languages), i.e. systems which are related but not mutually
intelligible without special learning effort, or whether European music
is ONE language, perhaps divided into dialects (French, German, Spanish
or English, the dialect of the so-called 'country without music') which
are different from one another but are mutually intelligible.
Let us look at some of the greatest and most typically French composers:
- Jean-Baptiste Lully
collaborator of Molière,
composer of many operas,
creator of the French national opera style, it is said.
- Jacques Offenbach
- Meyerbeer
- César Frank
- Maurice Ravel
Of these:
Lully was an Italian.
Jacques Offenbach was
born plain Jakob Eberst in Cologne. His father came from the town of
Offenbach, south of Frankfurt on Main, and that's how he obtained his
artist's name. According to the Channel 4 Guide to Opera (p 131)
his work is the 'epitome of Gay Paris'. Wagner wrote about him
that his music 'was a dung heap on which all the swine of Europe
wallowed', i.e. that it was jolly, catchy, frivolous, hummable and
inconsequential - in brief the essence of French music as seen by many
foreigners, except that for German observers, these features are
something bad, whereas for English observers the same features often
seem to be something praiseworthy, inimitable but worthy of imitation.
Here are the titles of some of the best-known operas of this
exponent of French-ness:
- Les Contes d'Hoffmann
- Orphée aux Enfers
- La Belle Helène
- La Vie Parisienne
- La Péricole (1868),
which turned out to be very important for the development of English opera (1875)
These are the five most popular works of the 102 stage works he wrote.
Meyerbeer's native name
was Jakob Liebmann Beer. He was born in Berlin in 1791, the year
of Mozart's death, and died in Paris, having also composed for the
Berlin stage and worked for a time in Italy, where he turned 'Jakob'
into Giacomo. He added Meyer to his surname after receiving a
legacy from a relation named Meyer.
César Franck was born of
German parents, accidentally born on the wrong side of the border, in
Belgium, near Liège. He took French nationality in 1870 (!).
Maurice Ravel was born of
a Basque mother and a Swiss father, or, to be more precise, his father
was a Frenchman, accidentally born on the Swiss side of the border,
because the taxi taking his mother to the hospital was delayed in a
snow storm. Anyway, the example goes to show, what a precarious
thing it is to say even of people whether they are French or German,
etc, to say nothing of making such a decision about music, in a
meaningful way. Stravinski called Ravel the greatest Swiss clockmaker
of all times.
Music by composers who lived and worked in France
That would make at least some of the music
of Stravinski, Chopin, Gluck and Gershwin French music, and it would make Picasso's paintings French paintings.
Music which has stylistic features which are recognisably "French"
I.e. when an expert hears a piece of music
without knowing it and without knowing its composer, he must be able to say: This is French music.
Now, if you play me a piece by Berlioz or by Rameau, I may
well be able to recognise the composer and, since I know that both are
French composers (i.e. composers born and working in France), I may say
that this is French music. But that is a vicious circle. It means
that I define French music as music written by composers who were born
in France, worked in France and died in France. That would be a trivial
definition of French music if their music were not different from
contemporary music in other countries.
Well, the music of Rameau is very different of the music of
Bach and of all music written in Germany, Italy or Spain. But
does that make it French? No. For it is also quite distinct
of all music written by all other composers in France. Therefore
if I recognise Rameau's music by listening to it, I have not recognised
it as 'typically French', but as 'typically Rameau'.
We must therefore make our definition of what is French music
more stringent.
French music is music which has features which occur in all
or almost all French music of that time, and which do not occur in
non-French music of that time.
We must now inspect music by composers generally considered
French to see if we can find such features. I have recorded about
150 hours of French music from the BBC and have utilised these tapes
for my investigation.
We will take two approaches to finding characteristic features:
- By features sometimes said to be typically French
- By historical periods
When the presenters of the BBC music
programme, Radio 3, introduce a piece of French music, they often add,
before or after, that it is typically French and this is meant as a
compliment. They justify these assertions by saying that the piece is
- precise
- or brilliant
- or brief and compact
- or that it has esprit
- or that it is dancelike
- or that it has exciting rhythms
- or that, when you hear it, you think you are sitting in one
of the cafés of the Parisian boulevards
One finds similar remarks on the sleeve-notes of records of
French music. It was the abundance and obscurity of these remarks
which prompted me to write this essay. Let us now look at these
features in turn and see if they are typically French.
We can only accept them as being French, if all, or almost all
French music displays these features, and if non-French music does not
display them.
- French music is precise: Non-sense. All written music
is precise. When the composer writes 'c', he means 'c' and not
'd'. If he demands the duration of 1/8, that's what he means, and
not 1/4. Ravel's Boléro is no more precise than Dvorak's Slavonic
Dances or Brahms' variations on a theme by Haydn. French music is no
more precise than other music.
- French music is brilliant: Non-sense. Mozart is as
brilliant as Rameau or Berlioz and perhaps more brilliant than Debussy
or Saint-Saëns.
- French music is brief and compact: Non-sense. In
music of all countries there are short pieces and long pieces. Moreover
silly short pieces are not better than good long pieces. Length
is not a measure of quality. German composers have written long
pieces, such as Bach's St Matthew Passion and Beethoven's 9th symphony,
and excellent short pieces, such as some by Anton Webern (pupil of
Schoenberg) which last only 60 or 90 seconds. In French music we
find not only short pieces, such as some by Satie, but also long ones
such as the Turanga-Lîla Symphony by Messiaen, which lasts over 90
minutes.
- French music has esprit: God only knows what that is
supposed to mean. Perhaps a certain degree of frivolity and
provocativeness, as can be found in some music by Milhaud and his
friends. But in Germany we also have Kurt Weill (composer of the
'Threepenny Opera'), whose music is no less provocative and racy than
that of Les Six.
- French music is dancelike: Non-sense. Some musical
historians say that, in the period of the baroque, the French were the
dance masters of Europe. They point at the importance of dance
and ballet in French opera until the time of Gluck, and the
preponderance of dances in early French opera (Rameau) where the story
of the opera served only as a pretext for presenting dance numbers.
But that does not make dance rhythms an appanage of French music.
There are dances in the music of all countries and of all times, they
are all rhythmic and often passionate. Think of German and
Italian dances, of Hungarian and Slavonic dances, of gypsy dances and
of Caribbean dances and those from the South American continent.
If I hear a baroque piece and it sounds like a gavotte, my first guess
is that it is by Rameau, but it might just as well be by Bach (namely
from his Wedding Cantata).
- French music has exciting rhythms. All right,
sometimes it has, e.g. much music by Rameau or the provocative
productions of Les Six. But the composer whose music has pushed
rhythm most strongly to the foreground is the German Carl Orff
('Carmina Burana').
- When you hear French music, you think you are sitting in
one of the cafés of the Parisian boulevards. That is meant as a
compliment by people who remember romantic days spent with their
girlfriends in Paris while trivial French music doodled in the
background, but it really is an insult to French music to assert that
what is characteristic of French music is its triviality (a backhanded
compliment).
In brief, the wisdom presented by the writers of record sleeve
notes and presenters on the radio turns out to be quite
meaningless. The intention in many cases seems to be to pretend
that there is contrast between German music and French music and that
German music is bombastic, heavy, deadly boring and academic, whereas
French music is light, elegant and charming. The writers of the
sleeve-notes thus display their own amateurish prejudices rather than
saying anything of importance about French music.
I should add here that I am very fond of French music and, by
now, know it well, but I am equally fond of German music. One
does not have to play off one against the other.
By historical periods
We now look at French music in historical
periods. I propose the following:
- Medieval music: The troubadours. I do not know their
music well and have not looked at them. But I do not think it
likely that their music would change my conclusions.
- Late medieval and early renaissance music, the music of
Josquin des Prés and his contemporaries.
- Baroque music: The time of Bach in Germany and of the
Couperins, Rameau, Lully and many others in France.
- While in Germany there is a period which is recognised as
'the classical period' (the time of Mozart, Haydn and Beethoven), I
have not been able to distinguish such a period in France or find
composers of similar importance. The most influential composer in
Paris at that time was Gluck, and he was German.
- Romantic music: The time from Beethoven to Brahms, Wagner
and Reger in Germany, and of Berlioz, Massenet and Saint-Saëns, in
France.
- Early modern music: The time of Fauré, Debussy, Ravel, and
later Les Six and their associates (Honegger, Poulenc, Milhaud, Satie).
- Modern music: The time of Stockhausen, Henze in Germany,
and Pierre Boulez and Edgard Varèse in France (but Edgard Varèse lives
in the USA, and Pierre Boulez in England?).
We now look at each of these periods in turn:
1. Medieval music: The troubadours
I have not looked at it.
2. Late medieval and early renaissance music
The most important composer of the time
was Josquin des Prés (ca. 1450 - 1521).
Other important French or semi-French composers of that period
were Guillaume Dufay and Jean Ockeghem (teacher of Josquin des Prés).
For comparison I introduce a contemporary Scottish composer,
John Dunstable, and a German composer, Heinrich Isaac. Note that,
- like Bach and Händel, who were born in the same year, 1685,
- Josquin des Prés and Heinrich Isaac were born in the same year, 1450.
John Dunstable
|
ca.
|
1385 - 1453
|
Heinrich Isaac
|
|
1450 - 1517
|
Guillaume Dufay
|
|
1398 - 1474
|
Jean Ockeghem
|
|
1425 - 1495
|
Josquin des Prés
|
ca.
|
1450 - 1521
|
In his time Josquin des Prés was the most famous and
influential composer in all Europe. If ever French music was
powerful, if ever it gave more than it received, it was during this
period. During his century, Josquin was as influential in Europe as
Beethoven was in the 19th and Stravinsky in the 20th century.
Therefore if we are to look for a golden age in typically French music,
we might look at Josquin. But see the book by J van Ackere quoted
at the end of this essay, which bestows the gold medal or the golden
apple to the music from 1870 to 1950.
I will return to Josquin later when I have some observations
to make about the relationship between music and literature.
3 Baroque music
The most important French composers of that time were Couperin and Rameau:
Jean-Baptiste Lully
|
1632 - 1687
|
Italian
|
François Couperin le Grand
|
1668 - 1733
|
|
Jean Philippe Rameau
|
1683 - 1764
|
|
*Jean Sébastien Bach
|
1685 - 1750
|
German
|
*George Frédéric Haendel (Händel)
|
1685 - 1759
|
English? German?
|
I added Bach and Handel so that you can compare the dates.
Rameau, Bach and Handel were born almost in the same year, and the year
of their birth coincides more or less with the year of Lully's
death. Lully is included in the list because he is generally
"considered French".
Note especially the Couperin clan which was as extensive in
France as the Bach clan in Germany:
Three famous brothers Couperin founded the dynasty. All
three were pupils of Jacques Champion Chambonnières, 1602-1672.
1. Louis Couperin, l'aîné
|
1630 - 1663
|
2. François Couperin, l'ancien
|
1636? - 1700?
|
3. Charles Couperin
|
1638 - 1669
|
The Couperins developed the art of ornamentation and Bach
adopted their technique and their notations. Many of the terms
for the ornaments used in Germany at Bach's time (and today) are of
French origin.
Later composers like César Franck and Ravel regarded this time
as the 'golden age' of French music, i.e. the time when, as they saw
it, French music was still free of German influence. When Germany
and France were at war, French composers searched for independent
models at that period.
For example, Ravel, who had been a soldier during the first
world war, wrote, in 1917, his suite 'Le tombeau de Couperin' and
dedicated each of its movements to a friend killed during the war.
I agree that this period was free of an overwhelming German
influence, but I do not agree that its music was typically
French. It was simply European, but all of it could also have
been written in Germany or Italy.
Ravel and his contemporaries were simply reacting to the
overwhelming German influence (especially that of Beethoven and Wagner)
during the 19th century and turned their eyes, or rather their ears, to
a time that preceded Beethoven.
4. The German classical period
We ignore the German classical period,
that of Mozart, Haydn and Beethoven, because there was nothing
comparable in France. If the French needed classical models, they
took them from Beethoven, hence Beethoven's enormous influence during
the 19th century.
The most important composer active in Paris at that time was
Christoph Willibald Gluck, who was German but lived in Paris for a
time, wrote six important French operas (as from 1772) and, together
with Rameau, was an important model for later French opera composers,
such as Berlioz, whose experience of Gluck's operas led him to the
decision to become a composer.
One scholar says of Gluck: 'The German bear was unnoticeably
transformed into a Frenchman'. (Moser, p 380).
Christoph Willibald Gluck, 1714 - 1787
Five of the 'Paris operas':
- Iphigénie en Aulide (après Racine) (1774)
- Orphée
- Alceste
- Armide, 1777
- Iphigénie en Tauride, 1779?
5. Romantic music
Let's say: the 19th century:
Among the most important composers in Germany are Beethoven, Wagner and Brahms.
Among the most important composers of this period in France are Berlioz, Franck and Bizet:
Note: Important French works by Meyerbeer:
Giacomo Meyerbeer 1791 - 1864:
Important French operas:
- Robert le Diable 1836 ?
- Les Hugenots 1836
- Le Prophète 1849
- L'Africaine 1865
This was a time when French composers admired the great German
composers, especially Beethoven. Some of them developed a very
distinctive style, especially Berlioz,
but this style is particular to them and is not shared all over
France.
One sometimes hears that Bizet or Massenet are the most
typically French of all composers, but there is little in their music
to justify that. Even though Massenet wrote an opera with a
completely French subject ('Manon'), many of their subjects are foreign
(e.g. Bizet: Carmen, Les Pècheurs des Perles; or: Massenet: Werther.
Berlioz and Gounod both wrote a
Faust opera, both wrote operas based on Shakespeare, and Massenet's
'Chérubin' is a sequel to Mozart's 'Figaro' and is set in Spain, with a
generous supply of Spanish tunes.)
César Franck, sometimes
called the Father of French music, was a pupil of Reicha, who was a
pupil Haydn himself. Franck used the architecture of classical
music, especially that of Beethoven.
In brief, there is no universal French style at this time and
German influence predominates.
6. Early modern music
I mean the end of the 19th century and the
beginning of the 20th century. I believe that it was the
political conflicts with Germany which culminated in the
Franco-Prussian war and the occupation of Paris by Prussian troops in
1871 which led to an awakening of national pride in French musicians
and to the search for an independent musical language.
It was this war which inspired Rimbaud's beautiful poem 'Le
dormeur du val' (dated October 1870).
In 1871, Camille Saint-Saëns
(called 'chauvinist' by Moser, p 828, Debussy article) and Romain
Bussine founded the 'Société nationale de musique', among whose members
were Chausson, Chabrier, Fauré. But the society strangely also
contained Spain-fans like Lalo and his friends.
It was the aim of this society to promote an independent
development of French national music.
However, it seems that often French-ness meant only not to be
German, for works which were clearly inspired by, say, Spain or by
oriental themes, were happily accepted as French whereas works were
regarded as imitative if they betrayed German influences.
One of the French nationalist composers of this time was Darius Milhaud. He was secretary
to Paul Claudel, French ambassador in Brazil, from 1916-1918.
When his piano pieces 'Saudades do Brazil' (Nostalgia for Brazil) were
broadcast on the BBC, the announcer pointed out that this was
'Quintessential Milhaud'.
Chabrier is considered
the leader of the rebellion against German domination in music.
His most famous piece is called 'España'. Ravel and Debussy were
strongly influenced by Chabrier.
During the first world war, Debussy showed his patriotic
sentiments in his piece 'En blanc et noir', written in 1915. It is
inspired by Villon's poem: 'Ballade contre les ennemis de la France'.
Prince, porté soit des serfs Eolus
En la forêt où domine Glaucus,
Ou privé soit de paix et d'esperance:
Car digne n'est de posseder vertus,
Qui mal voudroit au royaume de France!
It uses French folksongs to depict the happiness of a people
left in peace and the threatening sounds of Luther's and Bach's chorale
'Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott' (A mighty stronghold is our God) to
depict the stamping of the approaching German war machinery, a piece
which is similar in sentiment to the 'Stalingrad symphony' by
Shostakovitch, written during World War II.
While the German choral was well chosen by Debussy as far as
its musical style is concerned (which forms a good contrast with the
French folk music representing France), the choral is not suitable as a
symbol of German aggression if one considers its text and its
history. It was written by Luther at the time of the reformation
as a prayer by a peaceful minority (the protestants) surrounded by
powerful enemies and attacked from all sides. But in spite of
everything, that minority knows and believes strongly that, even if the
world were full of terrible, fearful ferocious devils who want to
attack, crush, swallow and devour them and finally drag them to hell,
God is their strength and He will protect them. Therefore, in the
situation of France in this war, in which the French lamb is attacked
by the German wolf, the choral "A mighty stronghold is our God" is more
suitable as a symbol of poor France than of the German hunnish hordes.
We have already mentioned Ravel's contribution to World War I,
with his 'Tombeau de Couperin' in memory of his friends fallen during
the war.
Les Six
The most notable and rebellious composers
of this time were a group whose literary spokesman was Jean
Cocteau. Like the Pandavas and Draupadi (Mahabharata), they were
five men (Georges Auric, Louis Durey, Arthur Honneger, Darius Milhaud,
Francis Poulenc) and one woman (Germaine Tailleferre) and they were
called Les Six.
I cannot, in the context and with the deliberate slant of this
essay, make a fair judgement of the quality of their music. (This
can be done only by speaking exclusively of their works.) But
much of it was inspired by a desire to be funny, to provoke and to
shock, to refuse to be respectable. It was often wild, barbarian
music, a music of protest against the German-inspired traditions.
It was iconoclastic music, the punk music of its time, the music of the
Angry Young Men (John Osborne) and the spray-gun artists.
We have among their works, for instance, a sonata for
typewriter, hoover and orchestra (written no doubt by the woman in the
group).
Such protest may be good as a first step towards liberation
from oppressive parental control, typical products of teenagers and
young men or women, but what is necessary for protest does not usually
suffice for greatness.
Moreover I should add that there were also German composers,
capable of producing provocative and frivolous sounds, e.g. Kurt Weill
(Threepenny Opera, 1933).
The works of Les Six, however, are closest to a body of music
which we can call 'French music', because it was largely distinct from
foreign music and more than one composer was influenced by the same
ideology.
(Erik Satie)* |
1866 - 1925 |
Arthur Honneger |
1892 - 1955 |
Darius Milhaud |
1892 - 1974 |
Georges Auric |
1899 - 1983 |
Francis Poulenc |
1899 - 1963 |
Louis Durey |
1888 - 1979 |
Germaine Tailleferre |
1892 - 1983 |
* I have added here the name of Erik Satie (1866 - 1925) even though he was not a member of the group of Les Six, because he was very important and influential. Among his compositions are:
- 'Deux pièces froides' (Two cold pieces) (1897),
- 'Trois morceaux en forme de poire' (Three pear-shaped pieces) (1903),
- 'Choses vues à droite et à gauche (sans lunette)' (Things seen at the right and at the left (without glasses)) (1912).
We come closer to something truly French
if we look at Ravel and Debussy, especially if we look at their vocal music.
Claude Debussy |
1862 - 1918 |
Maurice Ravel |
1875 - 1937 |
I will confine my observations to Debussy. Jean-Jaques
Rousseau called Rameau's operas, and the many courtly dances with which
they were stuffed, stiff and artificial. According to Rousseau
they prove that the French language is not really suitable for
singing. That is as silly a statement as the opinion current in
Germany, that, because of the nature of its sound system, Italian is
the language most suitable, or most natural, for singing.
Rousseau went back to nature, i.e. he is dead. But a few
centuries later there was Debussy. His greatest model, one says,
was Rameau. He set out quite deliberately to derive his sung
music (songs, opera) from the rhythms and intonations of the naturally
and emotionally spoken French language. He went round and took
notes of the spoken French around him, tried to capture its rhythms and
intonations and to catch it in musical notation. The best example
for the musical result is his opera 'Pelléas et Mélisande'.
Of course, it does not follow from his work that the French
language is suitable for singing. Nor does it follow that the
resulting music must be beautiful. It only demonstrates that
music is infinitely flexible and can imitate the rhythms of
French. Janacek (from 1854-1928) made similar efforts to write
Czech music which is derived from Czech language sounds. This
kind of music therefore cannot possibly work in translation.
Some people have called the music of 'Pelléas et Mélisande'
monotonous. But that is not a fair comment. My attitude is
as follows: To understand and enjoy the vocal music of Debussy and
Ravel, we have to understand and follow the French language in
detail. It is necessary to prepare for such an opera or for a
song recital by studying the texts. Only then can we understand the
message the composer was trying to give. Without the language we
understand nothing.
This is also true of Rameau or of Bach. We can only
fully understand their vocal music if we understand their texts. If we
do not understand their texts, we get only 20% of their meaning.
But in the case of Debussy and Ravel and perhaps Fauré, without the
text, we get absolutely nothing.
No wonder Debussy's music sounds monotonous to a listener who is deaf in his textual ear.
7. Modern music
The time of Stockhausen and Henze in
Germany, and of Pierre Boulez and Edgard Varèse
for France (but
Edgard Varèse lives in the USA, and Pierre Boulez in England). I
do not know this music well, but it is said to be so fragmented and
individualistic that it is not possible to discern a general
'style'. Therefore we cannot search for 'typically French' music
among such composers.
French organs have a distinct sound which
is quite different of that of German, Italian, Spanish or English
organs. This is due to the predominance of reed stops.
In preparing this talk, I spent a day with a German organist
who also sometimes plays French music in his concerts. We
compared systematically French and German organ music. We found
that modern French organ music, also as from about 1881, has a distinct
style. Since my friend was German, his opinion of that style was
not entirely favourable. He thought that much of this music
lacked structure and depth. The organ is not treated like an
organ (i.e. with distinct functions for each of its manuals) but like a
piano (in the style of Haydn) or a harmonium. We often found
'imitations' of bell sounds in the upper registers and endings of big
pieces with repeated final chords as is customary in the symphonies of
Beethoven and Bruckner - in brief the organ was treated partly as a
piano and partly as an orchestra.
Some contemporary French organists:
Charles-Marie Widor |
1844 - 1937 |
Marcel Dupré |
1886 - 1971 |
Charles Tournemire |
1870 - 1939 |
Louis Vierne |
1870 - 1937 |
Maurice Duruflé |
1902 - 1986 |
Olivier Messiaen |
1908 - 1992 |
1. As I mentioned before, the sound of a
French organ is decidedly different from than of a North German organ
(a Bach organ) or of South German, Italian or English organs.
2. In the 17th century, the century in which
Bach was born, the viol player and composer Sainte Colombe invented a
new way of holding the viol between the knees and he added an extra
string (7th) to the existing strings, thus extending the sound range of
the instrument and giving it a new lease of life when it was about to
go out of fashion.
'Il trouva une façon différente de
tenir la viole entre les genoux et sans la faire reposer sur le
mollet. Il ajouta une corde basse [une septiéme corde] à
l'instrument pour le doter d'une possibilité plus grave et afin de lui
procurer un tour plus mélancolique. Il perfectionna la technique
de l'archet en allégeant le poids de la main et en ne faisant porter la
pression que sur les crins, à l'aide de l'index et du médius, ce qui'il
faisait avec une virtuosité étonnante.' (Pascal Quignard: 'Tous les
matins du monde'. Gallimard, Paris, 1991)
|
He found a new way of holding the
viol between the knees and without letting it rest on the calf.
He added a low string (a 7th string) to the instrument in order to give
it a graver mode and a more melancholic tone. He perfected the
bowing technique by lightening the weight of the hands and ensuring
that there was no pressure except on the strings, with the help of the
index and middle finger, which he did with astonishing virtuosity.'
(Pascal Quignard: 'Tous les matins du monde' [All mornings of the
world]. Gallimard, Paris, 1991)
|
In a similar manner, Bach in Germany was the first to use
not only the four fingers of the hand but also the thumb in playing the
organ and the harpsichord and thus made it possible to play existing
music more easily, or better, or make possible the creation of music
which otherwise could not be played.
3. The most influential new instrument of our
times was invented by a Belgian instrument maker, Adolphe Sax
(1814-1894), who worked in Paris as from 1842, and was called the
'saxophone' after its inventor.
Sad to say, the French treated their geniuses no better than the Austrians
treated their Mozart. In 1892, at the age of 78, two years before
his death, Adolphe Sax was declared a bankrupt and therefore stripped
of the Order of the Légion d'honneur.
4. Another musical instrument of French
invention, which one can hear from time to time, is the Ondes Martenot,
invented by Maurice Martenot in 1929. It is an electronic
instrument using thermionic valve oscillators and has a piano style
key-board. Unlike the piano it can produce continuous changes in
pitch (like a violin) and unlike some other electronic instruments, the
player can minutely influence the character of the sound by the way in
which he touches the keys. It is therefore a comparatively
'human' kind of electronic instrument. It is used in works of
Arthur Honegger, Pierre Boulez and Olivier Messiaen.
Music and language
When we are told that the only typically
French music is that written between, say, 1870 and 1930, it means that
this is music which is comparatively difficult. To understand it,
we must listen often and we must listen carefully. Most people
prefer easy music which they can play in the background, and they do
not like to listen carefully. They like Mozart and Tchaikovsky
for their beautiful tunes, and if there are no beautiful tunes in a
piece of music or if the tunes are hidden, they will at best tolerate
that music.
It is therefore worthwhile for us to try to throw overboard
some of our prejudices. We want to look at a different approach
to music, which will help us not only with modern French music but also
with the oldest.
Josquin des Prés and his contemporaries all over Europe were
not primarily interested in writing beautiful music with pretty tunes
which can be easily recognised. Instead they set themselves
technical problems of composition and tried to solve them. We may
call this the Houdini syndrome. The composer ties his hands and
his feet and tries to escape.
The best-known modern example is Ravel's piano concert for
left hand only.
Bach's violin suites are another example: How to produce
harmonies on an instrument designed for playing melodies.
The most provocative or limiting theme which I have ever heard was the
basis of an improvisation on the organ of Altenberg Cathedral in
Germany (near Cologne). It was called 'Improvisation on a Note by
Handel'. (The note was in fact a middle c, taken either from the
"Messiah" or from "O magum mysterium, no, no" by Jacobus Gallus.)
(everything sic!) [1]
Josquin set himself such problems as writing a piece for three
voices, where all three voices are in the same register (e.g. three
tenors) (by contrast, common sense dictates that, when you have three
voices, you put them into different registers, e.g. one soprano, one
alto and one bass). But Josquin tried to solve the problem, how
to make the music sound 'beautiful' or acceptable, in spite of the
limitation he had set himself. He also (like later Jean Sébastien
Bach) wrote pieces which could be played forward or back to front or
could be turned upside down, or musical textures woven from just four
or five endlessly recurring notes. Such music can only properly
be understood if one has the score and follows it. Thomas Mann called
this 'music for the eyes'.
The principle of setting up artificial restrictions and then
creating a work of art in spite of these restrictions links music to
literature, and especially poetry. The poet is not primarily
concerned with putting over a message (after all, he could do that much
more efficiently by writing a letter). Instead he tries to
produce a linguistic texture (un toile linguistique) out of the words
available, imposing not only the restrictions of grammar (as in prose)
but in addition such things as rhyme, metre, alliteration, complex
strophic forms (e.g. in a sonnet) etc.
Some poets however go even further in their artistry, and some
contemporaries of Josquin were among them. One of the most
celebrated French poets of Josquin's time was Jean Molinet, 1435 -
1507, and Josquin set several of his poems to music.
Jean Molinet |
1435 - 1507 |
Josquin des Prés |
ca. 1450 - 1521 |
Jean Molinet wrote 'L'Art et Science de Rhéthorique' (The Art
and Science of Rhetoric) and was the theoretician of the poetry of his
time. His poem 'Oraison' (Orison
[2]
, Prayer) demonstrates a preoccupation with technical skill in the
manipulation of words, which is similar to the preoccupation with
technical skill in the manipulation of musical notes which
characterises the music of the time.
Jean Molinet, 1435 - 1507
Oraison
Marie, mère merveilleuse,
Marguerite, mundifiie,
Mère miséricordieuse,
Mansion moult magnifiie,
Ma maistresse mirifiie,
Mon mesfait maculeux me matte,
M'âme mordant mortifiie;
Mercy m'envoye m'advocate!
Ardant amour, arche aornée,
Ancelle annuncée, acceptable,
Arbre apportant aulbe adjournée,
Accroissant avoir aggréable
Astriférent aigle, attraictable
Accoeul, amorti ayemant,
Azime aspirant, adorable,
Ancre aigüe, âmes attirant
Rubis raiant, rose ramée,
Rais reschauffant, raiseau rorable,
Riche régente reclamée,
Resjoïssant, resconfortable,
Racine récent, respirable,
Ramolliant rigueur rebelle,
Rigle, reduisant réceptable,
Repentans ruyneux rapelle.
Jardin joly, joie internelle,
Jour infini, incomparable,
Illustre, intacte jovencelle,
Jaspre joieux, incomprenable.
Innocente image inspirable,
Idolatrie interdisant,
Implore Jhesus invocable,
Juste Justice introduisant.
Estoille errant, encontre eureuse,
Espine esprise, exelse eschielle,
Ente eminente, eslute espeuse,
Evangelisée estincelle,
Elucente entière, éternelle,
Enchainte, enixe et efficace,
Espérance espirituelle,
Envye estains, erreur efface!
The first word, 'Marie', is the seed of the poem. Each
stanza elaborates one letter of this name, each word in any given
stanza begins with the same letter.
In this kind of poetry what is important is not meanings and
messages, which can also exist outside that poetry, but the poetical,
linguistic structure itself.
In music one can make a similar observation. In most
popular music today (including the popular classics), the listener
expects what I would call a 'musical story line', pretty tunes, a
certain musical force and development which drives the music from a
starting point to a predetermined goal. Such is the music of
Mozart, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky etc.
This is not so in Josquin's music (nor in most modern serious
music), and the absence of such a 'musical story line' causes such
music to be so difficult for the listener. What matters are the
details of the music itself, the musical texture, not some
extra-musical drift which is perhaps conveyed by that texture.
I have drawn attention to that link between music and poetry
in Josquin's time not only because this was a time when French music
was dominant in Europe, but also because one can occasionally observe
similar features in modern music and modern literature.
As a modern example, I refer to the work of Georges Perec.
Georges Perec
These are specimens from two novels by
Georges Perec. The first is "La disparition", published in 1969.
This book seems to be a normal novel, but in fact it is closer
to being a huge poem, and therefore also closer to a musical structure
than to a novel. In this 300-page novel the letter 'e' does not
occur a single time. The novel deals with a man, named Anton
Voyl, who disappears, and the search for him conducted by the police
and by his friends. There is a sequel to this novel, called 'Les
Revenentes' (sic!) in which no vowel is used, except 'e', i.e. the 'e's
which have gone into exile in the first novel, must have bred like
rabbits, and their ghosts have now returned with a vengeance and have
ousted all the other vowels.
This is a tour-de-force of the Josquin type, a Houdini act,
where the author ties both his hands and then still tries to create a
narrative.
In his following book Georges Perec set himself the even more
ambitious task to write an entire novel while utilising only one
letter, the Q. Georges Perec began to write this novel but, unfortunately, after
having written the circle,O, of
the first Q, he died of a heart attack before having put the little tail
into the O. Therefore we will never know the plot of this masterpiece.
In enjoying such works of art we must look at, and enjoy, the
technical details, the literary texture and not expect a conventional
story, psychological information, etc.
If the preoccupation with such technical matters is a
typically French (if, that is!), then we can see a link between one of
the earliest and one of the latest periods in French music and French
literature.
Georges Perec: La disparition
(This is the first page of the novel.)
AVANT-PROPOS
Où l’on saura plus tard
qu’ici s’inaugurait la Damnation
Trois cardinaux, un rabbin, un amiral franc-maçon, un trio
d’insignifiants politicards soumis au bon plaisir d’un trust
anglo-saxon, ont fait savoir à la population par radio, puis par
placards, qu’on risquait la mort par inanition. On crut d’abord à un
faux bruit. Il s’agissait, disait-on, d’intoxication. Mais l’opinion
suivit. Chacun s'arma d’un fort gourdin. «Nous voulons du pain», criait
la population, conspuant patrons, nantis, pouvoirs publics. Ça
complotait, ça conspirait partout. Un flic n’osait plus sortir la nuit.
A Mâcon, on attaqua un local administratif. A Rocamadour, on pilla un
stock: on y trouva du thon, du lait, du chocolat par kilos, du mais par
quintaux, mais tout avait l’air pourri. A Nancy, on guillotina sur un
rond-point vingt-six magistrats d’un coup, puis on brûla un journal du
soir qu’on accusait d’avoir pris parti pour l’administration. Partout
on prit d’assaut docks, hangars ou magasins.
Plus tard, on s’attaqua aux Nords-Africains, aux Noirs, aux
juifs. On fit un pogrom à Drancy, à Livry-Gargan, à Saint-Paul, à
Villacoublay, à Clignancourt. Puis on massacra d’obscurs trouffions,
par plaisir. On cracha sur un sacristain qui, sur un trottoir, donnait
l’absolution à un ...
Georges Perec: Les Revenentes
(These are the trailer pages (rules of the
game) of the novel, followed by the first three pages of the novel itself.)
Règle
1. «Qu» s’écrit «qe, qenelle, qerelie, qelqe, desqelles, etc. (Décision de l'OuLipO, séance du 7 mars 1972.)
2. De rares (puis de moins rares) emplois du «Y» seront tolérés (New Jersey, Yes, Cheyenne, etc.)
3. Divers types de distorsions (la liste en serait fastidieuse à dresser) seront plus ou moins progressivement admis au cours du texte.
PEREC
LES REVENENTES
TEXTE
E SERVEM LEX EST, LEGEMQVE TENERE NECESSE EST? SPES CERTE NEC MENS, ME REFERENTE, DEEST; SED LEGE, ET ECCE EVEN NENTEMVE GREGEMVE TENENTEM.
PERLEGE, NEC ME RES EDERE RERE LEVES.
Eve's Legend
I am to preserve the E, that is the law. But is it
necessary to keep the law? I certainly lack hope but not
intention in the execution. But read and see how I weave E
to E
[4] and keep the
herd together. Read thoroughly and do not believe that I am
pronouncing light matters.
J’émets fermement qe
les gens de ce texte
et les réels ne présentent
de ressemblence.
Perec
Telles des chèvres en détresse, sept Mercédès-Benz vertes, les
fenêtres crêpées de reps grège, descendent lentement West End Street et
prennent sénestrement Temple Street vers les vertes venelles semées de
hêtres et de frênes près desqelles se dresse, svelte et empesé en même
temps, l’Evêché d’Exeter. Près de l’entrée des thermes, des gens
s’empressent. Qels secrets recèlent ces fenêtres scellées?
— Q’est-ce qe c’est ?
— C’est l’Excellence!
C’est l’Excellence l’évêqe
— Z’ètes démente, c’est
des vedettes bèle, hébétée, qelqe mémère édentée.
— Let’s bet three pence!
C’est Mel Ferrer! prétend qelqe benêt expert en westerns.
— Mes fesses! C’est Peter
Sellers! démentent ensemble sept zèbres fervents de télé.
— Mel Ferrer! Peter
Sellers! Never! jette-je, excédé, c’est Bérengère de
Brémen-Brévent!
— Bérengère de
Brémen-Brévent!! répètent les gens qe cette exégèse rend perplexes.
— Certes, reprends-je,
Bérengère, Bérengère «The Qeen», Bérengère «The Legs», celle qe Dresde
et qe Leeds révèrent, celle qe vénèrent et le Rex et le Sélect et
Pleyel! Bérengère, déesse éthérée des scènes, vedette d’entre les
vedettes, fée des kermesses et des fêtes! Sept cent trente sept prêtres
l’encensent dès q’elle entre en scène et entreprend d’enlever ses
vêtements, cent mecs se pètent le cervelet!
— Et q’est-elle censée
chercher chez l’Evêqe? Ces messes ne me semblent de même espèce! émet
qelqe pète-sec en bérêt et en spencer.
— Ne te méprends!
démens-je, qe Bérengère se rende chez l’évêqe, c’est de règle en effet,
l’évêqe est le frère d’Herbert Merelbeke, le pépé de Thérèse Merelbeke,
et Thérèse Merelbeke est l’élève préférée de Bérengère!
Perplexe, le pète-sec enlève et remet les verres cerclés
d’ébène de ses serre-nez.
— Ce frère, ce pépé, cette
élève et cette préférence me semblent extrêmement enchevêtrés!
Je sens qe l’énervement me pénètre je rejette cette qerelle
d’Helvète et préfère me démettre. Les gens cessent de m’encercler.
Pédestrement, je me rends chez Hélène...
Près de qelqe sente déserte et enténébrée, j’entends ces
sentences qe le vent semble repêcher:
- ... L’évêché est en
effervescence...
- ... Elle s’est très
endettée récemment...
- ... Elle vend ses gemmes.
- ... Bézef ?
- ... Et le recel?
English translation: "A void" (La disparition)
(The English translation, by Gilbert
Adair, of "La Disparition" is ambiguously entitled "A void" and was
published by Harvill Press, London, in 1994. The translation,
like the original, manages without the letter "e".)
INTRODUCTION
In which, as you will soon find out, Damnation has its origin
Today, by radio, and also on giant hoardings, a rabbi, an
admiral notorious for his links to Masonry, a trio of cardinals, a
trio, too, of insignificant politicians (bought and paid for by a rich
and corrupt Anglo-Canadian banking corporation), inform us all of how
our country now risks dying of starvation. A rumour, that’s my initial
thought as I switch off my radio, a rumour or possibly a hoax.
Propaganda, I murmur anxiously — as though, just by saying so, I might
allay my doubts — typical politicians’ propaganda. But public opinion
gradually absorbs it as a fact. Individuals start strutting around with
stout clubs. “Food, glorious food!” is a common cry (occasionally sung
to Bart’s music), with ordinary hard-working folk harassing officials,
both local and national, and cursing capitalists and captains of
industry. Cops shrink from going out on night shift. In Macon a mob
storms a municipal building. In Rocadamour ruffians rob a hangar full
of foodstuffs, pillaging tons of tuna fish, milk and cocoa, as also a
vast quantity of corn — all of it, alas, totally unfit for human
consumption. Without fuss or ado, and naturally without any sort of
trial, an indignant crowd hangs 26 solicitors on a hastily built
scaffold in front of Nancy’s law courts (this Nancy is a town, not a
woman) and ransacks a local journal, a disgusting right-wing rag that
is siding against it. Up and down this land of ours looting has brought
docks, shops and farms to a virtual standstill.
Arabs, blacks and, as you might say, non-goyim fall victim to ...
This book seems to be a normal novel, but in fact it is closer
to being a huge poem, and therefore also closer to a musical structure
than to a novel. In this 300-page novel the letter 'e' does not
occur a single time. The novel deals with a man, named Anton
Voyl, who disappears, and the search for him conducted by the police
and by his friends. There is a sequel to this novel, called 'Les
Revenentes' (sic!) in which no vowel is used, except 'e', i.e. the 'e's
which have gone into exile in the first novel, must have bred like
rabbits, and their ghosts have now returned with a vengeance and have
ousted all the other vowels.
This is a tour-de-force of the Josquin type, a Houdini act,
where the author ties both his hands and then still tries to create a
narrative.
In enjoying such works of art we must look at, and enjoy, the
technical details, the literary texture and not expect a conventional
story, psychological information, etc.
If the preoccupation with such technical matters is a
typically French (if, that is!), then we can see a link between one of
the earliest and one of the latest periods in French music and French
literature.
I will conclude this comparison by quoting a piece of modern
music, by Henri Pousseur (born 23 June 1929 in Malmédy, Belgium),
which, luckily for us, openly links literary and musical
elements. If Debussy derives his music from language, in
Pousseur's piece, music and language have been fused into one.
quote from Henri Pousseur:
Phonèmes pour Cathy (pour soprano et orchestre, 1966)
I have this on tape
but I believe it also exists on CD (search Internet!).
Transcription even of text is difficult; but interesting.
|
For me the most French of composers are those who are closely
tied to the French language: such as Debussy and Ravel. To
appreciate their music requires some effort. To understand their
text-based music (e.g. their songs), one has to learn the French
language, but that goes even for older text-based music and even for
music from other nations.
Those who do not read German but like Bach's music think they
enjoy his music, and indeed they do, because enjoyment is
subjective. But they understand only 10% of that music if they do
not understand every syllable of the underlying texts.
In the case of semi-modern French music, I think that enjoying
that music without understanding the text is even more difficult.
Listening to songs by Ravel without understanding the texts, is like
listening to the news on French radio without knowing the language.
Conclusion
It is very difficult to identify
consistently something French in so-called French music, even though
radio announcers and music writers very frequently praise the 'very
French character' of this piece or that. However, such utterances
are usually ill-considered and emotionally coloured and quite
impossible to substantiate. It is surprising how regularly music
writers feel compelled to say something about the French-ness of a
French composer. But their opinions are emotional and subjective
and do not stand up to closer investigation.
However, if I may be equally emotional and subjective, and if
I do not want to go so far as to say there is no French music but
merely European music, then I would suggest the following hypothesis
for further consideration:
In terms of hardware:
We can definitely see a French style in the sound of French
organs. This is quite distinct from the North German organs
(those for which Bach's works were written), or from the South German,
Italian or English organs.
In terms of software:
We can search for very French music, either in the earliest or
the latest times: In the period of Josquin des Prés because Josquin was
born and died in France and because he was at his time as powerful and
influential in Europe as Beethoven was in the 19th century and
Stravinsky in the 20th. At Josquin's time, and only then, a
'French composer' lead the European world of music.
Or we must go to the beginning of the 20th century and look at
composers who consciously tried to free themselves from the
overwhelming German influence which pervaded France certainly in the
19th century.
I am thinking particularly of the composers of rebellion, such
as
- Les Six: Arthur Honneger, Darius Milhaud, Georges Auric,
Francis Poulenc, Louis Durey, Germaine Tailleferre,
- of the school of Debussy and Ravel,
- or of some of the great modern French organists, such as
Marcel Dupré, Tournemire, Widor, Duruflé, or Messiaen.
This choice of period was confirmed by the very title and
table of contents of a book which came to my attention too late to be
used in the preparation of this essay: Jules van Ackere: "L'âge d'or de
la musique française (1870-1950)". (Éditions Meddens, Bruxelles,
1966). It concentrates on Debussy and Ravel, with César Franck
and Gabriel Fauré as forerunners, and Milhaud, Honegger and Poulenc
representing the next generation.
When we come to the most recent times, to post-serial music
and to electronic music, I am not well-enough informed, but, at a time
when all restraints and rules and conventions seem to have been
abandoned, I cannot imagine any influence coming from one nation and
going to another and being generally accepted. French
post-serialists (say Edgard Varèse, Barraqué, Pousseur, or even Pierre
Boulez) may pick up ideas from their German contemporaries, say
Stockhausen or Henze, but I cannot imagine them to be sufficiently
constrained to form a national style.
In terms of time, let us say that there was a distinct French
musical language perhaps as from the Franco-Prussian war 1871.
That war was the turning point or the birth of French music, in the same way in which the
reform of spelling and of Latin pronunciation (the Carolingian reform
during the years leading up to 813) was the birth of the French language. Before that date French
did not exist; only Latin existed, divided into several spoken dialects.
The Carolingian reform (of Latin pronunciation) had the effect
that the people could no longer understand the spoken Latin, for
example in church. It was therefore necessary to prepare and
write the sermons in the popular language ("the vernacular", the French
of that time). Therefore, the Council of Tours of 813 demanded
that the priests should speak their sermons 'in rusticam romanam
linguam' (in the popular language), and in 843 we find the first
written document of French, the Oaths of Strasbourg (Helmut Lüdtke:
Geschichte des romanischen Wortschatzes [History of Romance
Vocabulary], Vol. 1, p 29 et 72 ff; Bernard Cerquiglini: La naissance
du français, p 44; Charles Camproux: Les langues romanes, p 68)
However, while the French language
continued to exist as a distinct language, I am not sure whether today
one can still speak about a 'French musical
style'. If this is true, then French music was a very short-lived
affair, say 50 or 70 years. The music produced by Frenchmen or
produced in France or first performed in France was most of the time
European in character, became national for a very short period and is
now back in the home of the European community.
Nationality and literature
I have tried to show in this essay how
precarious (or pointless) an enterprise it is to try to link art and
style with nationality: such efforts do not tell us anything
significant about the works of art themselves.
While it is impossible to give in an essay any demonstration
of the beauty or greatness of a work of music, I hope that some readers
will be induced to explore French music more thoroughly on their own;
for it is seriously underestimated, both by the neglect or contempt
which it receives from people in Germany who are hooked on Bach,
Beethoven and Brahms and from people in England who esteem only the
frivolous, light-hearted side of French music. Either approach is
unjust.
However, I must not conclude this exploration without
considering whether similar problems can arise in different arts, e.g.
literature or the visual arts. I take literature as an example.
In literature it is customary to speak of "English
literature", "German literature", "French literature", etc., and to
have university departments dividing up world literature in similar
terms or to write surveys of literature in such terms. People
will also say that they have studied or have not studied "English
literature", that they know or do not know "German literature" (as
opposed to "Spanish literature"). The question arises what such
terms mean and whether such dividing lines are necessary, useful, fair
and unambiguous: is it easy to decide which authors or books belong to
the domain of which "department" (I use "department" to cover not only
the brief of university departments, but also the scope of a book on,
e.g. German or English literature, etc.)
Conservatoires do not have departments of "French Music",
"German Music", "Austrian Music", "Swiss Music". Why is it that
divisions which we have rejected for music are workable or even
necessary in literature?
First of all, let us simplify the argument (our line of
thought) by postulating that translations are not adequate for the
study of literature. They may be helpful but they are not
sufficient. To read a book, the reader has to know the language
in which it is written. This limits the works he can study
(privately or at university) to those written in the languages he knows.
Secondly, we assume that books can travel, i.e. we can in any
part of the world obtain, at least in principle, all books from any
other part of the world (given money and determination).
Thirdly, when domains of study (disciplines, departments) are
set up, their boundaries are drawn as wide as possible in order not to
exclude unnecessarily books or information which a student or reader
could easily understand.
Fourthly, in the case of music, we also simplify the argument
by limiting ourselves to what is known as European music, that is the
music from Gregorian chant onwards, via Josquin, Palestrina, Bach,
Beethoven, Wagner, Schönberg, Stockhausen, not forgetting American
composers like Aaron Copland; but excluding Indian, Arabic, Japanese,
African, etc. music, whose sources and traditions are entirely
different, even though we are aware that borrowings and influences have
occasionally occurred, especially in modern times when European music
has cast off many of its traditional systematic constraints.
Music, in this discussion, therefore means "European" music.
Having made these simplifying assumptions, we can proceed with
the argument.
When people study music, which usually means the study of an
instrument, most commonly the piano (the sine-qua-non of harmonic
instruments), sometimes accompanied by the study of composition or
conducting, their objects of study are not limited by national
boundaries. They will have to play, and are able to play,
Beethoven, Debussy, Scriabin, Scarlatti, conduct Elgar and Britten,
even though later in life they can, of course, make a speciality of
certain composers which may all come from the same period of time or
come from the same country, e.g. Czech baroque composers or modern
composers from the Russian Federation. It also happens that some
composers are not well known internationally and only the player who
specialises in a certain country will get to know of them and find
their scores in a local music shop. But generally nationality
does not impose a restriction on the study and practice of
musicians. The scores of all countries use the same system of
notation and can immediately be understood and executed by a musician
from any country.
It is therefore not surprising that students of literature
seldom say
[5] : "I
study literature", but usually "I study English literature", "I study
Russian literature", "I study Spanish literature", "I study Portuguese
literature", etc. What is the difference between the study of
"literature" and the study of "music" which leads to this difference in
approach, limitation of choice, or labelling?
At this point of our discussion, I need a definition of
literature but cannot attempt so difficult a task in one paragraph of
an essay that is focussed on a different issue. An ad-hoc
definition will have to do:
Literature (belles lettres) is an umbrella term for the
totality of texts which deal with the human condition in non-technical,
often entertaining terms, in an exemplary (concrete) fashion, have an
aesthetic rather than informative value, and try to appeal not only to
the intellect but also to the emotions of the reader.
Since literature deals with the "human" condition as such, its
endeavour is to go beyond the limits of nationalities, classes (even
though at times it has been limited to the worlds of gods, heroes,
aristocrats; then extended to dealing with the tragedies of the
bourgeoisie, then the working classes and finally the
down-and-outs). Readers often want to gain access to worlds
different from their own (sometimes, of course, they insist on seeing a
reflection only of their own, e.g. in "trivial literature") and
writers, generally eager to learn and to be inspired, want to absorb
influences from as wide a range of literature, sources, authors,
territories, as possible. We may call this the "expansive
trend" in literature, both as applied to readers and to writers.
In the systematic study and description of literature it is
therefore reasonable to set the limits, the terms of reference, as
widely as possible, in order not to deprive the student unnecessarily
of books which he might legitimately wish to know about and in order
not to neglect links (influences) between books and authors which would
be missed if one of them were not treated within the same "department"
or "universe of discourse" as the other.
Since in the study of music no limitations are set
(music is music), why are there such limitations in the study of
literature, why is there German literature versus English
literature versus French literature?
Because, unlike music, each book is written in a specific
language, in English, Italian, Russian, etc., and only people who have
learnt that language can read that book. When deciding which
books a student should be lead to study (or which books a reader of an
"introduction to N-ish Literature" or "History of N-ish literature"
should hear about and be induced to read), we make this dependent on
which language (or languages) he knows.
For example: If the student knows Portuguese, we offer him
literature (books dealing in an exemplary fashion with the human
condition in any country, class or time) written in Portuguese, most of
which will come from Portugal
[6]
and Brazil; we may in fact
insist that he has read
some of the greatest books written by Brazilian writers if he is to
merit certification, through his degree, as being "educated in
Portuguese literature", capable of participating with reasonable
competence in a conversation about the books which his partners are
likely to know and to refer to. We will not insist on his having
read James Joyce, however important his work may be for the "human
condition", simply because this is too much to ask of a student who
does not specialise in English and yet wants to study literature
written in Portuguese.
If the student knows English, we offer him literature written
in English, regardless of the nationality, country of birth, even
native tongue (e.g. Joseph Conrad or Salman Rushdie), place of work of
the author, place of publication of the book, i.e. literature coming
from England, America, Canada, Ireland, Africa, India, Australia, and
so on. We will insist, for example, that he has studied James
Joyce, the great Irishman, because without this he would have missed
important books in English literature and an important aspect of the
human condition in our time. We can insist on the student
reading James Joyce because he knows English. We insist on the
student's reading as widely as possible with the linguistic tools and
within the time at his disposal.
We would even want a student of German literature to have
studied Sophocles, Cervantes, Pessoa, Shakespeare and James Joyce,
because that student is human and as a student of literature ought to
be interested in the human condition or "the state of literature" as
such, but we cannot insist on this, for merely practical reasons,
namely that this particular student does not know Greek, Spanish,
Portuguese or English well enough.
We impose as few limitations as possible on the field of study
of a student of literature, both in terms of what we permit him to do
and in terms of what we require him to do. We allow him, and want
him, to access all books which his linguistic equipment enables him to
understand, i.e. all books written in the language that he knows.
It is therefore obvious that the term "English literature"
(unless specifically shown to mean something else or in a very
particular context) means "literature written in the English language",
and not "literature written in England, as opposed to literature
written in Wales, Scotland, Ireland, America, Canada, Australia".
The meaning of the term "English literature" is different, of
course, if in the same university two separate departments, one of
"English literature" and another of "American literature", exist side
by side. The same would apply if at a Portuguese university there
were both a department of "Portuguese literature" and a department of
"Brazilian literature". But if the university had only a
department of "Portuguese literature", in which department were
Brazilian authors to be studied?
If "English literature" meant "literature related to England,
in a specific indefinable way" all the absurd and insoluble problems
which we have explored in our discussion of whether there is such a
thing as "French music" would arise again. (Do we class the works
of the American-born T S Eliot and Sylvia Plath, both of whom lived and
worked in England, as American or as English? Do we include them
in an anthology of English poetry? Of American poetry?). To
use the term "English literature" (or Portuguese literature, Spanish
literature, French literature, Russian literature) in such a sense does
not imply national arrogance or "cultural imperialism" or even
"cultural theft" (by an Englishman, Frenchwoman, Spaniard, Russian or
Portuguese), but is merely an expression of conventions based on common
sense and what we called the "expansive trend" in the study of
literature, i.e. every reader or writer tries to study and assimilate
as wide a variety of literature as his linguistic skills will permit.
When we contrast the labels "French music" and "French
literature", we see immediately how meaningless (or difficult to
define) the former and how intuitively clear the latter is.
"French" is a language, but French music cannot possibly be "music
written in the French language" because music is not written in any
language. "French literature", by contrast, is instantly
understood as literature written in the French language (which happens
to be mostly used in France, but not exclusively there). As long
as we are interested in "the human condition" as the object of
literature, these definitions and limitations are good enough.
They are imposed reluctantly, but are necessary because of the
existence of a multiplicity of mutually unintelligible languages (the
Babel syndrome).
If people (writers, artists, politicians, agitators) pursue
more narrow interests and want to establish an artistic profile for
their nation they may wish to use terms such as English, Irish,
American, etc, in different and more narrow ways.
Such movements have existed at some time or other, presumably,
in any nation or any nation trying to establish itself as a nation and
acquire distinction and respect. The smaller and weaker the
nation (and, perhaps, the smaller, at least in bulk, the artistic
achievements of that nation), the greater the desire and the insistence
on independent artistic recognition. That is one of the reasons
why such nationalist cultural movements are not necessary, and do not
exist, in respect of "English literature" and "French literature", but
they do exist in relation to "Irish literature" or "Scottish
literature" or "Caribbean literature" (e.g. in the Caribbean
independence years around 1962). They are in fact a sign of, not
literary, but "national weakness" or lack of self-confidence.
Moreover, these movements, even if promoted by great writers,
are promoted by them (whatever their avowed motives) in their capacity
as "nationalists, patriots, politicians" and not in their capacity as
artists, or "wise" men, or "good" we-men. People of different
parties or nationalities owe them no allegiance, do not have the
slightest obligation to applaud them or support their aspirations, or
honour the "countries which have produced" such great writers.
[7] Their work
belongs to mankind, and the authors will be honoured as individuals,
even if they want to pass some of their glory to their countries and
their less gifted compatriots. The fact that a person, group or
nation, clamours for "recognition", does not mean that I or any other
outsider has to grant it.
If a country wants recognition and respect from other
countries, it must enforce it (or fail to do so) by use (or threat) of
arms or violent rebellion, in which case it is easy to tell whether or
not the country has achieved its aims. In that sense, a country
which is respected is one with which no one dares to meddle.
[8] It is this
feeling which gives national pride, i.e. the pride of the masses, pride
which is based on the achievements of
other members of the same
group, the same nation.
This is the pride of an English football hooligan who knocks
an Indian fan senseless, shouting: "We are English, we are superior,
because we produced Shakespeare, we invented the steam engine
[9] , and we won the
war." This English barbarian did, of course, none of these
things. He has to derive his pride (called "national pride") from
the achievements of his group (his nation), which are in fact not his
but those of a small elite, since he has no personal achievements with
which he can nourish his pride. Even the efforts to establish national
glory by sporting achievements (football, the Olympic Games) have
something spurious about them.
The pride of artists and intellectuals should be, and usually
is, of a different kind. The works of art (music and literature
for example
[10] )
belong not to a specific country: the honour belongs to the few who
produce these works (markedly different from the masses in their
countries) and the pleasure to mankind, which knows how to enjoy them.
Appendix: The treatment of "national
literatures" in an Encyclopaedia
I made a spot-check in the Encyclopaedia
Britannica, 1964 edition, to see how literatures were classified.
I did not draw any conclusions, since, I think, enough has been
said on the subject.
The article on "English literature" defines its scope as
follows: "The literature of England, and, if it is written in English,
of the whole of the British Isles, is part of the literary heritage of
the English-speaking world. Its influence lies behind the
literature of all the countries which have ever formed part of the
Commonwealth, and of the United States, and is intertwined not only
with the literatures of other European countries, but of the emergent
African nations, of India and Pakistan and of the middle east.
This article is intended as a broad survey of the literature of
England, from the Anglo-Saxon migrations in the 5th-6th centuries to
the mid-20th century. It naturally deals with the work of many
writers who were by nationality Irish, Scottish or Welsh, but whose
writings form part of the main stream of English literature."
This article devotes a 35-line paragraph to the work of James
Joyce.
The Encyclopaedia has a separate article on "Irish
literature", with a section on "Anglo-Irish literature", which starts:
"It is impossible to dogmatise, as some have tried, about the limits of
Anglo-Irish literature. It is enough to exclude on the one hand
writers of Irish descent who have no direct connection with the
country, such as the Brontë sisters, ..., Edgar Allan Poe, ...; and on
the other, English writers domiciled in the country for a considerable
time and showing decided traces of this in their work, such as Edmund
Spenser and Anthony Trollope. We cannot draw hard and fast
boundaries between a distinctive Irish literature in English and the
contribution of Irish writers to English literature. The
difference may be a real one, but it is too vague and uncertain to be
taken into account here. The one type of writing merges into the
other. All must count as Anglo-Irish literature, in whatever
country and for whatever public it was originally produced. As to
what constitutes an Irishman, one can only fall back on birth, early
training and habitual residence."
By contrast with its article on "English literature", the
Encyclopaedia's article on "Portuguese literature" does not deal with
"Brazilian literature" and has no separate article on "Brazilian
literature". (This was, of course, in 1964, but Kindlers Neues
Literatur-Lexikon [published in Germany in 1996] has a long and
distinct article on Brazilian Literature, where the efforts of
establishing it as a "national literature, clearly distinguished from
European Portuguese literature" started in, say, 1825 with José
Bonifácio.
Copyright © 1994 and 2000 Klaus Bung
E-mail: klaus.bung@tudo.co.uk
Written in April 1994, revised and expanded in January 2000
===== (eof - end of file) ====
This version contains some sections (e.g.
Nationality and Literature), which have not yet been incorporated into
the French version. Both versions have to be carefully compared
and adjusted before publication.
Length: 12,000 words = 72,000 characters
Footnotes
[1]
There is in fact a hell of a spoof going
on in here which I must document before I forget it myself. Neither the
footnote nor the sic!s are to be published. (1) You can hardly
improvise on one note. One note does not make a theme. You need at
least three. (2) If you take only one note, it makes no difference
whether it is from Handel or Wagner. You cannot attribute one note to a
composer. A note is a note. Notes are the smallest building blocks (the
atoms) composers use. (3) Georg Frederick Handel and Jacob Handl (also
known as Jacobus Gallus) are two different composers, but all three
names mean "little cock" (South German dialect). (4) The "O magnum
mysterium" (O great mystery) has been misquoted as "O magum mysterium"
(maccaroni Latin for: o magic mystery). It ends with the Christmas
shout "noe, noe", which has been misquoted as "no, no".
return
"The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd."
(Hamlet, conclusion of "To be or not to be") return
[4]
The word "even" in the Latin text has been
translated as "e to e". This is pure guesswork. We have not been able
to find the word EVEN in a Latin dictionary. Presumably there is a deep
sense in this as well; but it remains to be discovered (MYSTERIUM
FIDEI). Could there be anything in the fact that the symbol V is used
in mathematical logic and set theory for "inclusive or" (either). That
would leave the final letter N unexplained.
return
[5] except in modern less exacting times, when
literature is sometimes studied in translation
return
[6]
Defining the boundaries of Portuguese
literature brings its own problems when one considers the many early
Portuguese poets who wrote not only in Portuguese but also in Spanish.
"Aber bekanntlich ist die Sprache der Literatur nicht an Sprachgrenzen
gebunden. Vom 13. bis in das 17. Jahrhundert war Literatursprache
zunächst in Spanien auch das Galicisch-Portugiesische, später in
Portugal das Spanische. Nicht ohne weiteres läßt sich also die
literarische 'Gütergemeinschaft' in 'hier spanisch und dort
portugiesisch' auflösen." (The language of literature is not tied to
language boundaries. From the 13th into the 17th century
Galician-Portuguese was also used as the literary language of Spain and
later Spanish was also used as the literary language of Portugal. It is
not easy to separate the joint literary possessions into Spanish on the
one hand and Portuguese on the other.) (Harri Meier and Ray-Güde
Mertin: Die portugiesische Literatur. In: Kindlers Neues
Literatur-Lexikon, ed. Walter Jens, 1996, Vol 20, p 67). "For two
centuries and more from 1450 nearly every Portuguese writer of note was
bilingual and wrote also in Spanish, so that some, like Montemor and
Manuel de Mello, are numbered among the classics of Spanish letters."
(Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1964, "Portuguese Literature")
return
[7]
The existence of such great people within
certain national boundaries is in fact quite irrelevant. "Das Land der
Dichter und Denker" (the country of poets and thinkers) and of great
musicians, like Bach, Beethoven, Brahms and Schumann, was not saved
from falling into a moral abyss by the traditions associated with these
great people. It is the mentality of the masses, their prejudices,
their openness to follow false prophets, which determines the moral
fate of nations.
return
[8]
At present (2000 AD) this is true of the
United States of America and of the Russian Federation (during their
war with Chechnya), where nobody dares to intervene, as opposed to
Indonesia, Irak, the successors of Yugoslavia, African nations on whom
the rest of the world happily imposes their notions of right and wrong.
return
[9] Invented by James Watt, 1736-1819, born in
Greenock, Scotland. My argument would, of course, equally apply if a
Scottish football hooligan appropriated the merits of his great
countryman.
return
[10]
Architecture may be an exception because
it cannot be moved across national borders and often requires a
national effort in financing it! Therefore works of architecture may
contribute to the glory of a country.
return