Shadow of great britain

"The Constitution" April 6, 1833, literary column "The Paris Music Season of 1833", "Liszt and Hastings, the Fever of Falsehood and Reality".

Author: Heinrich Heine.

I have often heard music lovers say that there are only three pianists in Paris worthy of serious attention today.

Namely: Frédéric Chopin, the piano poet who could play beautiful music, but unfortunately he was very ill throughout last winter and was rarely seen.

Then there is Jacob Mendelssohn, this gentleman in the music world. He can be welcomed everywhere without touching the piano. His music is elegant and pure. What is even more valuable is that he seems to really put his talents into practice. Seen as a simple attribute, among the many inheritors of Bach, he is the only one who best understands its essence.

Then there is our dear Mr. Liszt. Despite all his abnormality and rudeness, he is still our dear Liszt, and at this moment, he is the main culprit causing commotion in Paris's upper class society.

Yes, here he is, our Franz Liszt, the wandering knight of all possible medals, the doctor of philosophy and double-eighth notes, or of all imaginable whims, the musical doctor of miracles, rising again The Pied Piper, the new generation of Faust, is always followed by a poodle named Belloni. This is the noble Liszt!

Here he is, a modern-day Amphion, plucking the stones of Notre Dame with his chords, causing them to come together like the walls of Thebes! Here he is, a contemporary Homer. Germany, Hungary, and France, the three greatest civilizations, all claimed Homer's homeland, but only seven small towns competed for singers to sing "The Iliad"!

Here he is - Attila, the "scourge of God" for all classical pianos that trembled at the news of his arrival, and now tremble, bleed, and wail under his hands again, and I I think the Animal Protection Association should really take good care of them!

Here he was, the crazy, handsome, ugly, mysterious, terrifying, and often very childish child of his time, the towering dwarf, the mad Orlando with the Hungarian Sword of Honor. Franz Liszt, who sounds healthy today and sick tomorrow, has his magic over us, his genius enchants us, his nonsense confuses our own senses and leaves us in any situation They all appeared willing to serve him loyally, letting people know that he had achieved great and exciting fanaticism here.

We frankly acknowledge the fact that he achieved great success, but how do we interpret this fact according to our own personal opinions, or do we agree or refuse to express our personal recognition of this outstanding master of music, for whom it was possible is an extremely irrelevant thing, because our voice is just one person's voice, and our authority in the art of music is unimportant.

What a round of applause he received at his piano recital at the Paris Opera last week! Bouquets were thrown at his feet, and he let them fall upon him so calmly in the joy of victory, and then, smiling gracefully, pinned a red camellia from a bouquet in his buttonhole.

What a spectacular sight! He did this in front of some young soldiers who had just returned from Algiers, where instead of flowers they saw bullets raining down on them. The breasts of the soldiers were decorated with camellia-like medals condensed with their own blood, but these medals did not attract any special attention from Parisians like Liszt.

"How strange! These Parisians who have seen Napoleon." I thought to myself: "Napoleon had to declare war on all Europe in order to attract their attention, and now these people are applauding our Liszt!"

Applause, flowers, honors, they gave all these things to Liszt. What a great honor it was!

But what is the real reason for this phenomenon?

I think the answer to this question should belong to the category of pathology, not aesthetics.

In a crowded and oppressive crowd, the devil unleashes electric movements, ecstatic contagiousness, and perhaps the magnetism of the music itself, a mental illness that most of us share.

Yet none of these phenomena made such a profound or painful impression on me as the Liszt concerts.

I interviewed a famous doctor for this purpose. His specialty is treating mental disorders in women. As we all know, women's disorders are usually associated with fainting and syncope, which is exactly the same as what happened at Liszt's concert.

I talked to him about the magic that Dear Mr. Lister casts on his audiences. The doctor smiled mysteriously. He talked about magnetism, electricity and electrocution, about contagious diseases that occurred in a stuffy hall lit with countless candles and filled with hundreds of people wearing perfume and sweating. He talked about affected madness, The itching in my heart is unbearable, the cantholamine produced by the music and other unexplainable obscene things.

I believe these questions are related to Bonadia, the god of chastity, fertility, and the cure of disease. However, perhaps the answer to this question is not buried deep in such a thrilling abyss, but just floating on the plain water.

In my opinion, it’s not that other pianists can’t be as successful as Liszt, it’s just that they don’t work as hard as Liszt behind the scenes. Most pianists only know how to play the piano, but don’t know how to ‘organize’ a successful concert. Or rather, their ‘stage setting’ is not as good as our Franz Liszt.

When to arrange for a lady to faint, when to arrange for someone to send flowers, and when to arrange for someone to scream, Liszt is a genius in this art.

Of course, the above words are just my personal guesses. Maybe some fans of Liszt will say, Heine, you German guy doesn't know what a piano is at all. We were so excited that we were so impressed by Liszt's superb playing skills. He had this kind of god-like ability. The power was so powerful that it seemed as if a hundred franc Rothschild Banker's Acceptance had been stuffed into us.

Many people think that I will contradict their words, but if you really think so, you are wrong. I don’t deny that there are musicians with this kind of magic in this world.

When I was in London, I heard about a mass fainting at the Astley Theater in London, where a young pianist happened to be present. The king attended his performance, women fell at his feet, and many lost their minds over him. At that time, London's popular newspapers reported at length on this concert and even some of his pranks, which aroused the public's enthusiasm for him.

It’s no secret that classical music listeners are known for being either reserved or elegant, and it’s rare to find a classical musician as wildly popular as this one. Looking at Europe, the first person to be so sought after was the violin devil Paganini from the Apennines, the second was the piano king Liszt from Paris, and the third was this mysterious gentleman from London.

In London, his public appearances aroused the enthusiasm of his fans to a near-frenzy, and he became the object of fantasy and the secret desire of all kinds of people. The gentlemen of the upper class admire him, the gentlemen of the middle class are jealous of him, and the children of the common class want to be like him. As for the London ladies who have always been graceful, in order to get close to the Apollo in their hearts, some women risked everything, including family honor and their own good education.

A London gentleman who often attended concerts told me: "Once a lady grabbed a cigar that he had half-smoked and thrown away and started smoking it, despite herself coughing, still intoxicated. Baronesses and The countesses were tearing each other's hair out desperately for the cup or the handkerchief he had used."

Screams, cheers, hysterics, and fans loyally following his performances across London. Oh my God! Isn't this another Liszt who appeared in London?

However, what is even more unexpected is that when I learned more about this gentleman's life, I suddenly discovered that the conversation I had with the doctor seemed to be verified by this London 'Lister' - the devil was released The electric movement, the infectious energy of ecstasy, and the magnetism of the music itself.

This gentleman is actually a natural philosophy researcher in the field of electromagnetism. Not only that, he is also an outstanding assistant to Mr. Michael Faraday. According to what I learned from the French Academy of Sciences, this gentleman held an important position in the field of electromagnetism, and he was also a close friend of Mr. Wheatstone, the inventor of the phonograph.

Electricity and magnetism, the phonograph, a young piano master and a knighted knight - Sir Arthur Hastings!

Perhaps, he is the guy who is closer to the essence of piano fanaticism than Liszt. It is not Liszt's 'stage scenery', but the magic of electricity and magnetism released from his fingertips. The Lord of the Sky from London is in charge of switching between day and night. The god of thunder - Taranis!

Paris, Breaux Detective Agency.

Alexandre Dumas is holding a coffee cup in one hand and the "Constitution" that was just released this morning in the other hand.

Using breakfast time to read and read newspapers is undoubtedly a good way to save time, but reading jokes and humorous novels is obviously not.

The result of Alexandre Dumas reading the newspaper while eating breakfast was that he didn't take a sip of the coffee, but the shaken coffee almost stained his fine tuxedo.

Sitting at the other end of the table was Heine, who was quite satisfied with his masterpiece.

He pointed at the newspaper in his hand and showed off to Alexandre Dumas: "How about it? Alexander, just tell me, is this article worth 1,000 francs?"

Alexandre Dumas put down the newspaper, patted his thigh and praised: "It's more than 1,000 francs, I think it's worth 2,000 francs. Heinrich, the writing is really good. After reading it, I want to invite Arthur to teach me. After all, How can I make ladies willing to pick up my leftover cigars? If he can teach me, I will pay him 500 francs alone.”

As soon as Alexandre Dumas finished speaking, he heard the door of the detective agency being pushed open.

They saw Arthur take off his hat and let out a sigh of relief.

Alexandre Dumas raised his eyebrows and asked, "What's wrong? Looking at you, could it be that you just had a fight with someone?"

"No." Arthur looked like he had seen a ghost: "I just bumped into the office's 'Pan', and it turned out that this guy insisted on letting me teach him electromagnetism. I asked him why, and he said it was to teach ladies We can go crazy for him. The most ridiculous thing is that he said he was willing to pay me 100 francs for this skill and give me a free bodyguard for a month. "

Alexandre Dumas laughed loudly when he heard this: "Heinrich, what am I talking about? The publicity effect of your article is really good."

"What article?"

Arthur took the coffee-stained copy of "The Constitution" from Alexandre Dumas's hand, raised his eyes and immediately changed his expression: "Heinrich, is it too much for you to write like this? When will there be a lady? Did you pick up my cigarette butts?”

Unexpectedly, Heine didn't take it seriously when he heard this and said: "Arthur, just because you didn't see it doesn't mean there isn't one. At least I saw with my own eyes a lady picking up the butts of cigars that Liszt smoked, so I think there must be some ladies who treat you like this." I did. After all, you are as popular in London as Liszt.”

Arthur didn't know whether to cry or laugh when he heard this.

It is true that he has some followers in London, but it is definitely not as exaggerated as Liszt in Paris. After all, as a pianist with few works, he only has one piece of music. Apart from "The Bell", the only one he can play is "To Hastings" written for him by Chopin.

It is impossible for two pieces of music to support a solo concert, and the inability to hold a solo concert is the biggest flaw of a pianist. At least as far as what Arthur saw at the concert held by the Philharmonic Society, the fans of Mendelssohn, Chopin and others were definitely far better than him.

Among the general group of music lovers, Arthur Hastings' name is usually placed in a neither high nor low position privately. He is not the most concerned, but he is not the most ignored either. However, his attention usually comes not only from the piano, but from various aspects, such as his identity as a police detective, or his identity as a natural philosophy researcher and his head-on defeat of the Parisian swordsman Francois. ·Bertrand’s beautiful words.

At least in Arthur's opinion, classical fighting enthusiasts, female academics from the Blue Stocking Club, and gentlemen and ladies obsessed with knights and detective novels will always prefer him for this reason when making similar rankings.

However, it was a home game in London after all.

The problem at hand is that Paris is Liszt's territory.

Arthur originally did not want to provoke the piano king. Not to mention his huge fan base, Liszt's deep roots in Paris were untouchable by him as an outsider.

Whether in politics or academia, one must follow a faction to learn from others, and the music world is no exception.

As a stimulating player who started his career in the wild, Arthur has two friends in the music industry, one is Chopin and the other is Mendelssohn.

Although these two gentlemen are both big bosses individually, the problem is that Liszt also has a good personal relationship with them.

Moreover, Liszt studied under Czerny, Czerny studied under Beethoven, and Beethoven studied under Haydn. Among this group was Hummel, the teacher of Mendelssohn and Chopin and a disciple of Mozart.

Therefore, Heine's article seems to be building momentum for Arthur, but in Arthur's own view, this is tantamount to putting him on the fire.

Arthur took out his pipe and lit it: "Heinrich?"

The Jewish German nationalist poet was as arrogant as ever. He did not take Liszt seriously at all: "What's wrong?"

Arthur took a deep breath of cigarette, and then exhaled leisurely: "Do you want me to ruin the entire European classical music?"