The Spirit of French Music/Foreword
FOREWORD
I mean this book to be a small treatise of musical taste; an experimental, not a dogmatic treatise, made out of the observations to which a somewhat close analysis of the work of the masters has led me. The subjects of the six chapters of which it is composed do not form a real historic sequence; they are: Grétry, Rameau, the Modern Italians, Meyerbeer, Wagner the Poet, Wagner the Musician I have chosen and brought together these subjects, because the reflections and lessons which spring from them seemed to me the most pertinent and illuminating to set in opposition to certain contemporary errors. I hope in a subsequent volume to speak of Lulli, Monsigny, Boïeldieu, Berlioz and the French schools of the second half of the nineteenth century. Thus there will be provided a sufficiently consecutive view of our national music from the time of Louis XIV. to our own day. But my aim, let me repeat, is to act as critic rather than historian, and to guide, as far as in me lies, public taste in a certain direction.
I venture to call the tendencies by which I am inspired French, and I do so with absolute conviction. And yet I have not asked myself what is French and what is not. It is a question that should not be asked. One is certain that the reply will be inadequate. It is right to be French in everything: but one must not be so of set purpose. That is the right attitude. The French spirit, French taste—these are things that do not define themselves, do not put themselves into formulæ. It is not that they lack body and reality; on the contrary their reality as we see it in history is too much alive, too overflowing—and how should we recognise it in history if we did not feel it stirring within us? There is nothing more real, more distinct, than the physiognomy of an individual, especially if a superior personality shines through his features. But that is a thing that is felt and cannot be defined. It is the same with the French spirit. It is a living individuality. Should it happen that under the action of disturbing or depressing influences it deviates from its natural line or falls into a state of weakness, it will be no remedy to set before it some sort of theoretical or abstract model of itself to which it must studiously conform. It will be far better to bring back to it the contact and sentiment of the works that it created in happier times when it enjoyed the plenitude and lively vigour of its strength. Nothing could be better calculated to renew its lost or wearied vital energy, to kindle again the flame of its activity.[1]
- ↑ I owe grateful mention to several excellent works which have provided me with historic information or suggestions of ideas. My study of Grétry states clearly enough what I owe to the Grétry of Michel Brenet. My study on Rameau does not state clearly enough how much I owe to the work of M. Laloy on this master, and to the admirable study which M. Lionel de la Laurencie has devoted to him in Lavignac’s Musical Encyclopædia. In the biographical portion of my chapter on Rameau, certain passages in inverted commas, where not acknowledged to another author, are by M. Laloy. If what I have written about Verdi should inspire my readers with a desire to know Camille Bellaigue’s eloquent and poetic book, it would be the best reward my sketch could earn.