Chapter 448 Hastings Frenzy

The Constitution, April 6, 1833, literary column ‘Paris Music Season of 1833’, ‘Liszt and Hastings, False and True Fever’.

Author: Heinrich Heine.

I often hear fellow music lovers say that there are only three pianists in Paris today who deserve serious attention.

That is: Frederic Chopin, the piano poet who can play beautiful music, but unfortunately, he was very ill throughout the winter last year and was hardly seen.

Then there is Jacob Mendelssohn, the gentleman of the music world, who can be welcomed everywhere without touching the piano, his music is elegant and pure, and what is more commendable is that he really seems to regard his talent as a simple attribute. Among the many inheritors of Bach, he is the only one who has the essence of it.

Then there is our dear Mr. Liszt, despite all his abnormalities and rudeness, he is still our dear Liszt, and at this moment, he is the culprit causing the commotion in the upper class of Paris.

Yes, there he is, our Franz Liszt, the wandering knight of all possible medals, the doctor of philosophy and double eighth notes, or all imaginable whims, the doctor of music of miracles, the Pied Piper who rises again, the new generation of Faust, always followed by a poodle named Belloni, this is the noble Liszt!

Here he is, a modern Amphion, who plucks the stones of Notre Dame with his chords, making them gather together like the walls of Thebes!Here he is, a contemporary Homer. Germany, Hungary and France, the three greatest civilizations, all claim to be the homeland of Homer, but only seven small towns are competing for the singer of the Iliad!

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

There he is, the mad, handsome, ugly, mysterious, terrible, and often very childish child of his time, the tall dwarf, the mad Orlando with the sword of Hungarian honor. Franz Liszt, who sounds healthy today and sick tomorrow, has us under his spell, enchanted us with his genius, confused our own senses with his nonsense, and made us willing to serve him loyally in any case, so that people know that he has achieved a great excitement here.

We frankly admit the fact that he has achieved great success, but how we interpret this fact according to our personal point of view, or whether we agree or refuse to express our personal approval to this outstanding music master, may be a matter of great indifference to him, because our voice is only one person's voice, and our authority in musical art is not important.

What a warm applause greeted him at his piano recital at the Paris Opera last week! People threw bouquets at his feet, and he let them fall on him so calmly in the joy of victory, and then smiled gracefully and pinned a red camellia picked from a bouquet in his buttonhole.

It was a magnificent sight! He did this in front of some young soldiers who had just returned from Algiers, but in Algiers they saw not flowers but bullets raining down on them. The soldiers' chests were decorated with red camellia medals made of their own blood and sweat, but these medals did not attract any special attention from the Parisians, as Liszt did.

"How strange! These Parisians who have seen Napoleon," I thought to myself: "Napoleon had to declare war on all of Europe 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!

But what is the real reason for this phenomenon?

The answer to this question should, I think, belong to the category of pathology rather than aesthetics.

In the crowded and oppressive crowd, the devil released electric movements, ecstatic infectiousness, and perhaps the magnetism of the music itself, which is a mental illness that most of us have.

However, all these phenomena have never made such a deep or painful impression on me as Liszt's concerts.

I went to interview a famous doctor who specializes in treating the mental disorders of women, which are known to be associated with fainting and syncope, just like the performance at Liszt's concert.

I talked to him about the magic that dear Mr. Liszt performed on his audience. The doctor smiled mysteriously, and he talked about magnetism, electricity and electric shock, about the epidemics that occurred in a stuffy hall with countless candles and hundreds of perfumed and sweating people, the pretentious madness, the itching, the cantharicin produced by music and other unspeakable obscenities.

I believe that these problems are all related to Bonadia, the goddess of chastity, fertility and healing. However, perhaps the answer to this question is not buried in such a thrilling abyss, but just floating on the surface of the water.

In my opinion, it is not that other pianists cannot be as successful as Liszt, but that they do not work as hard as Liszt behind the scenes. Most pianists only know how to play the piano, but do not know how to "organize" a successful concert. Or more precisely, their "stage setting" is not as good as our Franz Liszt.

When to arrange a lady to faint, when to arrange people to send flowers, when to arrange people to scream, in this art, Liszt can be said to be a genius.

Of course, the above words are just my personal little guess. Maybe some fans of Liszt will say, Heine, you German guy don’t know what piano is at all. We fainted excitedly because of Liszt’s superb playing skills. He has this kind of power that is almost like God, so powerful that it seems to have given us a Rothschild bank acceptance bill of 100 francs.

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

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

As we all know, classical music audiences are either reserved or known for their elegance. There are not many classical musicians who are so popular that they are crazy. Looking at Europe, the first one to be so popular was Paganini, the violin devil of the Apennines, the second was Liszt, the piano king of Paris, and the third was this mysterious gentleman from London.

In London, his public appearance can arouse the enthusiasm of his fans to an almost fanatical level. He has become the object of fantasy and secret desire in the hearts of all kinds of people. Gentlemen of the upper class admire him, gentlemen of the middle class envy him, and children of the common people hope to be him. As for the graceful London ladies, some women disregarded everything, including family honor and their own good upbringing, in order to get close to their own Apollo.

A London gentleman who often attends concerts told me: "Once, a lady grabbed a cigar that he had thrown away half-smoked and smoked it, regardless of her continuous dry coughs. Baronets and countesses desperately tore each other's hair for the cups or handkerchiefs he used."

Screaming, cheering, crazy, and fans loyally following his performances all over London. My God! Isn't this another Liszt in London?

However, what is more unexpected is that when I learned about this gentleman's life in detail, I suddenly found that my conversation with the doctor seemed to be verified in this London "Liszt" - the devil's electric movements, the infectious power of ecstasy, and the magnetism of 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 holds a pivotal position in the field of electromagnetism, and he is also a close friend of Mr. Wheatstone, the inventor of the phonograph.

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

Perhaps, he is the guy who is closer to the essence of piano fanaticism than Liszt. He is not Liszt's "stage setting", but the magic of electricity and magnetism released from his fingertips, the Lord of the Sky from London, the Thunder God who controls the switching of day and night - Taranis!

Paris, Breauc Detective Agency.

Dumas holds a coffee cup in one hand and a copy of the "Constitution" that was just released this morning in the other hand.

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

The consequence of Dumas reading the newspaper while eating breakfast is that he did not drink a sip of coffee, but almost got his nice tuxedo dirty with the coffee that was shaken out.

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

He pointed at the newspaper in his hand and boasted to Dumas: "How about it? Alexander, tell me if such an article is worth 1,000 francs?"

Dumas put down the newspaper, patted his thigh and praised: "More than 1,000 francs, I think it is worth 2,000 francs. Heinrich, it is really well written. After reading it, I want to invite Arthur to teach me how to make the ladies willing to pick up the cigars I left behind. If he can teach me, I am willing to pay him 500 francs alone."

Dumas just finished speaking, and heard the door of the detective agency being pushed open.

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

Dumas raised his eyebrows and asked, "What's wrong? From the looks of you, did you just have a fight?"

"No." Arthur looked like he had seen a ghost: "I just ran into the 'Pan God' of the firm, and this guy insisted that I teach him electromagnetism. I asked him why, and he said it was to make the ladies crazy about him. The most ridiculous thing is that he also said that he was willing to pay me 100 francs for this technology, and be my bodyguard for free for a month."

Dumas laughed out loud when he heard this: "Heinrich, what did I say? The publicity effect of your article is really good."

"What article?"

Arthur took the coffee-stained "Constitutional" from Dumas, looked up and immediately changed his face: "Heinrich, is it too much for you to write like this? When did a lady pick up my cigarette butts?"

Who knew that Heine didn't care at all when he heard this: "Arthur, just because you didn't see it doesn't mean it didn't happen. At least I saw a lady picking up the cigar butts that Liszt had smoked, so I think there must be a lady who did this to you. After all, you are as popular as Liszt in London."

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

Admittedly, 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 song. In addition to "The Bells", the only song he can play is "To Hastings" written by Chopin for him.

Two pieces of music cannot support a solo concert, and the inability to hold a solo concert is the biggest flaw of a pianist. At least in terms of the scene Arthur saw at the concert held by the Philharmonic Society, the fans of Mendelssohn, Chopin and others are definitely far better than his.

Among the general music lovers, Arthur Hastings' name is usually placed in a middle position in private. He is not the most popular, but not the most ignored. However, his attention usually comes not only from the piano, but from all aspects, such as his identity as a detective, or his identity as a natural philosophy researcher and the story of his direct victory over the Paris swordsman François Bertrand.

At least in Arthur's opinion, classical fighting enthusiasts, female scholars of the Blue Stockings Society, and gentlemen and ladies who are obsessed with knights and detective novels always prefer him for this reason when making similar rankings.

But, after all, it was a battle on London's home turf.

The current problem is that Paris is Liszt's territory.

Arthur originally did not want to provoke the piano king, not to mention his fanatical fans, Liszt's deep roots in Paris were also something that he, an outsider, could not touch.

Whether in politics or academia, one must pay attention to the faction of teachers and students, and the music world is no exception.

As a player who started from scratch, Arthur has only two friends in the music world, one is Chopin and the other is Mendelssohn.

Although these two gentlemen are big names when taken out separately, the problem is that Liszt has a good personal relationship with them.

Moreover, Liszt learned from Czerny, Czerny learned from Beethoven, and Beethoven learned from Haydn. In this school, there is also Hummel, the teacher of Mendelssohn and Chopin and Mozart's disciple.

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

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

The Jewish German nationalist poet was as arrogant as ever, and he didn't take Liszt seriously at all: "What's wrong?"

Arthur took a deep puff of smoke and then slowly exhaled: "Do you want me to destroy the classical music of all of Europe?"