BEETHOVEN.
[TO THE EDITOR or THE " SPECTATOR."] SIR,—I am glad to find so distinguished a musical critic an Sir George Grove strongly supporting the view that Beethoven, like Shakespeare, was a master of many moods ; but surely Mr. Watson's fine sonnet refers to but one of Beethoven's moods,— an utterance that at the time strikes the poet as the lament of a lost angel. There is no definite statement in the sonnet that Beethoven's habitual attitude is a sorrowful one.
It may interest your readers, however, to see another sonnet on Beethoven by Dr. John Todhunter, written some thirty years ago, which, whilst anticipating Mr. Watson's impression. of Beethoven's note of divine dissatisfaction, also records, and to my mind, most beautifully records, other characteristics of the maestro at the same time that it does not take the broadly human view of his genius put forward by Sir George Grove.
I may add, for the information of lovers of poems on musical subjects, that Dr. Todhunter's " Laurella, and other Poems "' (Kegan Paul, Trench, and Co.), contains felicitous sonnets- upon Mendelssohn and Rossini, a very remarkable poem en- titled " The Lost Violin Theme," " In a Gondola " (suggested by Mendelssohn's Andante in G Minor, Book i., Lied 6, of the " Lieder ohne Worte "), in my opinion one of the most ex- quisite symphonies in verse ever published, and a charming ballad, " Cficilchen at the Piano ":— "Music as of the winds when they awake, Wailing in the mid-forest ; music that raves Like moonless tides about forlorn sea-caves On desolate shores, where swell woird songs and break.
In peals of demon laughter ; chords athirst With restless anguish of dwine desires—
The voice of a vexed soul ere it aspires With a great cry for light; anon a burst Of passionate joy—fierce joy of conscious might, Down-sinking in voluptuous luxury; Rich harmonies full-pulsed with deep delight, And melodies dying deliciously As odorous sighs breathed through the quiet night. By violets. Thus Beethoven speaks for me.
JOHN TODHUNTER." I underline the lines in Mr. Todhunter's sonnet where he ham anticipated Mr. Watson's impression of Beethoven's spirit of restless sorrow.—I am, Sir, &c., ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES.
Previous page
