The basic ‘thesis’ of this book is a refutation of the impression
that British composers in the late nineteenth and early twentieth
century lacked literary credentials. I must admit that it is
not something that I had ever considered a problem. For example,
even the briefest of studies of the dozen or so volumes of Hubert
Parry’s English Lyrics reveals a wide-ranging literary
taste that is invariably expressed in an appropriate musical
setting. To be fair, Delius joked about Parry’s propensity for
setting biblical text, however Blake, Milton, Shelley and Tennyson
are all grist to his mill. Exactly the same observation can
be made about Stanford. So, I approached this book with a little
scepticism. Was Michael Allis about to tell me something that
I already knew – that these composers were well-read, had wide
connections with the great and good in the literary world and
had a considerable appreciation of English literature – old
and new? Fortunately, there is much more to the argument than
that.
In recent years, there has been a small but important increase
in the number of books, theses and reviews of nineteenth-century
British Music. A review is not a bibliography: however, I cannot
resist mentioning a few highlights. Pride of place must go to
Professor Jeremy Dibble’s important studies of the life and
music of Stanford, Parry and Stainer. Other Parry volumes include
Bernard Benoliel’s Parry Before Jerusalem and Anthony
Boden’s The Parrys of Golden Vale. At about the same
time as Dibble’s book on Stanford appeared, Paul Rodmell issued
an important study of that composer. Elgar has never been short
of enthusiastic supporters and books ranging from comprehensive
biographies such as that by Jerrold Northrop Moore to monographs
like J. P. E. Harper-Scott’s Edward Elgar: Modernist.
Additionally, several important volumes of collected essays
have been produced by Ashgate Publishing.
The only exception to this explosion of interest appears to
be Granville Bantock. To my knowledge, there is only Myrrha
Bantock’s ‘Personal Portrait’ and the 1915 study by H. Orsmond
Anderton. There is also a thesis by Matthew Louis Kickalsola
entitled Granville Bantock and the Choral Imagination. However,
I have heard rumours that a major study of Bantock’s music is
currently in preparation.
I do wonder exactly who this monograph British Music and
Literary Context is aimed at. On the one hand, it is hardly
likely to be read by the ‘average’ music-lover – and that is
not being superior: it is a fact. This is a book written by
an academic for academics. On the other hand, that is not to
suggest that this book is impenetrable or beyond the grasp of
the musically savvy reader. However, I do think that as this
is a multi-disciplinary approach to the subject, an understanding
of music and literary theory is required. I certainly
found that some of the ‘lit-crit’ parts of the book were ‘beyond
my ken’ and needed re-reading and having Google close
at hand.
The most important thing to remember about approaching this
text is to ‘read the introduction’. It defines the approach
that the reader should take as well as giving an ‘abstract’
of each of the chapters. Michael Allis suggests that this book
can be read in any order. However, he insists that the principal
arguments are twofold. Firstly it explores ‘a new assurance
with which a generation of British composers refigured poetry
and literature in their works.’ This can be explored by examining
‘straightforward musical settings’ or ‘representations’. The
former being where the composer sets a text for singers and
the latter where he uses a text as inspiration for an instrumental
composition. The second ‘aim’ of this book is ‘to offer suggestions
(strategies) as to how modern audiences might interpret or appreciate
the music-literature connection presented in these chapters’.
The author suggests that a useful approach is to ‘take a literary
perspective as a ‘way in’ to appreciating selected late nineteenth-century
British composers and their music’. Allis has decided to look
at different facets of this relationship.
Firstly, he has considered the collaboration between poet and
composer - in this case the poet laureate Robert Bridges and
Hubert Parry. Bridges (1844-1930) is a poet who is largely forgotten
today, however according to the Oxford Encyclopaedia of British
Literature he ‘represents an independent and profound engagement
with both the literary tradition and the ideas and innovations
of his age.’ He is now best-remembered as being a friend of
Gerard Manley Hopkins. In 1895 Bridges and Parry collaborated
in writing the cantata Invocation to Music and some
three years later in A Song of Darkness and Light.
Michael Allis explores this relationship between author and
composer in considerable detail and emphasises the poet’s frustration
with Parry’s approach to the setting of the texts.
The following chapter examines the ‘sustained musical promotion’
of a literary figure by Stanford, in this case Alfred, Lord
Tennyson. I was certainly astonished at the number of works
that were based on this poet’s works and imagery. These include
incidental music, motets, solo songs, part-songs and a symphony
(No.2 ‘The Elegiac’). Four facets of these works are explored:
the ‘heroic, the covert Irish connections, the deeper thought
of In Memoriam and finally some of Tennyson’s late
poetry.
Perhaps more challengingly, Allis has studied Granville Bantock’s
attempt at ‘refiguring in music’ a collection of poetic texts
by Robert Browning. This is especially the case with the great
symphonic work Fifine at the Fair which the author
carefully maps between text and music. He concludes this chapter
by suggesting that Fifine can be ‘interpreted as a
closer reading of the poem ... particularly in the context of
his [Bantock’s] interest in the musical potential of the dramatic
monologue.’ This is a long, complex chapter of musical and literary
analysis that I will need to study again in conjunction with
the CD recording by either Beecham or Handley.
Finally, Edward Elgar has two perspectives devoted to him. Firstly
there is ‘a hidden’ narrative where musical plot and imagery
parallel a literary source and secondly the great Overture:
In the South is examined from a ‘travelogue’ perspective.
I have always imagined Elgar’s Piano Quintet as a piece of music
largely influenced by the peaceful surroundings of Brinkwells
in Sussex in the summer of 1918. Other works composed at this
time included the Violin Sonata and the String Quartet. They
were the only three major chamber works written by the composer.
However, Lady Elgar’s hints that there was a programmatic element
to the Quintet – it apparently ‘represented’ a group of trees
near Brinkwells. According to a local legend these trees were
the ‘remains’ of Spanish monks accused of ‘sacrilegious ceremonies’
struck by lightning. However, Allis notes that another diary
entry suggests that ‘[Edward Bulwer] Lytton’s ‘Strange Story’
seems to sound through it too.’ The author presents a ‘close
reading’ of the novel and the music and highlights the parallels
such as the musical device of a recurring chant-like motive
and the ‘juxtaposition of the musical ‘other’ and the salon
[to mirror] the two strange worlds of A Strange Story.’
It is a process which is fascinating, even if it does not quite
make me hear Elgar’s Quintet in an entirely new light.
I want to look at this last chapter in a little more detail
and briefly explore how the author has approached this great
work by Elgar. The first section examines the ‘composition’
history –at least as far as the historical facts go. In November
1903, Elgar journeyed to Italy with his wife and was later joined
by his daughter Carice and friend Rosa Burley. Elgar’s intention
was to use this ‘warmer climate’ to work on his symphonic project
for the forthcoming Elgar Festival at Covent Garden, which was
to be held in March 1904. Allis notes that this project ‘foundered’.
The Overture: In the South was largely sketched out
in Alassio and was duly completed in England. The author then
considers the Overture’s reception. Two main arguments seem
to dominate the musical criticism of this piece. Firstly, there
is a debate as to whether the work was an overture or a tone
poem. This was argued from a structural point of view. Secondly,
there was the relationship between this Overture and the music
of Richard Strauss – especially Don Juan or Don
Quixote.
Michael Allis then considers the work’s structure – using both
a ‘Tovey-ian’ analysis as well as Elgar’s own numbering of the
themes. Extensive quotation is made of the composer’s literary
commentary on the work. Musical examples illustrating this commentary
are liberally printed.
A fascinating study of ‘Imaginative Topography’ ensues where
the author gives a concise review of Victorian and Edwardian
travel literature – particularly pertaining to Italy. Important
to this study are the strategies ‘used to communicate the nature
of foreign landscape to the reader.’ This is identified as ‘imaginative
topography’ by Chloe Chard. These literary parallels are then
used to analyse the ‘musical context’ of Elgar’s Overture and
‘help us appreciate the composer’s striking approach to narrative
from a number of perspectives.’
These strategies include ‘Motivation’ and ‘Title’. This looked
at what the author was trying to ‘capture’ in his text. Was
it, for example, ‘youthful enthusiasm of the Classical world?’
Titles of travelogues were also important – Allis lists a number
of titles such as ‘Sketches, Notes, Dairies, Gleanings, Impressions,
Pictures, Narratives, Leaves from a Journal, Tours, Visits,
Wanderings, Residences, Rambles and Travels. I was amazed at
just how many of these descriptive’ words used in travel literature
title have also found their way into the works of composers
– especially piano music from the first half of the 20th century.
Further refinements of the travelogue are considered including
the need for authors to assert their individuality, especially
when following in the footsteps of another writer, a desire
to push away from the beaten track, the balance between presenting
an ‘otherness’ or attempting to show that the places described
are ‘different’ to the readers usual points of reference. On
the other hand, a writer may use his own country as a point
of reference in describing his experience of travel. Travel
writers will balance a sense of the past and present – possibly
presented as a dream sequence. Finally, there are references
to scenic structure. The travelogue can be presented a series
of scenes.
Michael Allis concludes this study of ‘strategies’ by suggesting
that a literary perspective helps to identify a number of elements
which mirror strategies in travel literature and which a purely
musical approach might overlook. He suggests that ‘In the
South represents Elgar’s most focused and extended account
of the travel experience. Never again did he [Elgar] incorporate
the foreign landscape quite so vividly within a musical setting.’
I was disappointed that no brief note about the author was included:
I had to access the Leeds University webpage to find out about
him. Dr. Michael Allis is a Senior Lecturer in Historical Musicology.
He has contributed to the field of music and literature including
a significant monograph about ‘Parry’s Creative Process’. In
2004, he wrote an essay for Music & Letters entitled
'Elgar, Lytton, and the Piano Quintet, op.84'
– this argument has been incorporated into the present book.
Throughout this volume, there are many musical illustrations,
tables and figures. For example, there are some eighteen quotations
from Elgar’s Piano Quintet and many more from compositions by
Stanford and Bantock. Some of the tables provided are most helpful
– for example the list of works by Stanford with ‘Tennysonian
associations’: I was amazed to find twenty works listed - from
the great ‘Elegiac’ Symphony down to a setting of ‘Jack Tar’
for voice and piano. The same can be said of Granville Bantock
– there are literally dozens of pieces of varying genres that
were inspired by Browning. A number of structural overviews
will assist the reader in approaching Fifine at the Fair,
Elgar’s Quintet and his Overture: In the South.
The book is printed on quality paper, although on my copy a
little bit of ‘warping’ seemed to have taken place. My age and
my eyes protest a little at the size of the print - just a wee
bit too small for me. Furthermore, many quotations in the text
are in an even smaller font. The same applies to the footnotes
and their references.
Whilst on the subject of footnotes, it is fair to say that the
book is a little overburdened with them. For example in the
50 pages devoted to Parry and Bridges, there are 128 examples!
This is not the place to enter into the argument for endnotes,
footnotes (or both), however in the present volume, the sheer
‘weight’ of footnotes tends to make the pages look cluttered.
I believe that the expansions of the text along with the citations
should have been placed as endnotes with only clarifications
in the footnotes. However, contrariwise, bearing in mind the
huge number of notes, I am glad that I do not have to flick
constantly to the back of the book (or chapter) to keep abreast
of the argument, which requires 100% attention to read and digest.
Therefore, it is an open question.
There is a massive ‘select’ bibliography: nearly seventeen close
written pages of books the author has consulted. Additionally
many references to ‘primary sources, unsigned articles and additional
literary and musical criticism in the periodical literature’
are referred to in the text/footnotes. The indices are extensive
with special emphasis on the many musical works discussed or
alluded to.
This is an expensive book. £60.00 is a lot of money even by
today’s standards. However, as the cliché goes ‘research is
not cheap’. This is a book for the specialist: furthermore,
the areas of specialisms are wide. Any reader will have to be
familiar with both musicology and literary criticism. As noted
above, this is not to say that the text is opaque, or a closed
book for those of us who are not academic. However, there is
a density of meaning in these pages that does not allow for
skimming. It is a book that needs to be ‘closely read’ and (re-read).
An understanding of the arguments and an appreciation of the
conclusions are hard won but ultimately both challenging and
rewarding.
John France
The Boydell Press, Woodbridge