Schumann

by Eric Frederick Jensen

Book Overview

Robert Schumann is one of the most intriguing-and enigmatic-composers of the nineteenth century. Extraordinarily gifted in both music and literature, many of his compositions were inspired by poetry and novels. For much of his life he was better known as a music critic than as a composer. But whether writing as critic or composer, what he produced was created by him as a reflection of his often turbulent life. Best known was the tempestuous courtship...

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0199737355
• ISBN13: 9780199737352
• Release Date: February 2012
• Publisher: Oxford University Press, USA
• Length: 400 Pages
• Weight: 1.20 lbs.
• Dimensions: 1.0" x 6.1" x 9.1"

Customer Reviews

A man of rare genious and character

I have read this book twice through and then some, and have found it a revealing and moving portrait of this gentle genious, among the most underrated of composers. The previous reviewer's dismissal of this book is very unfair. There is generally enough musical analysis here to whet the appetite. I would agree that many of Schumann's later works have been neglected (The author would also agree, by the way.) and that a few early works such as Papillons and Carnaval are overexposed. Inevitably in a book of this sort, one will have favorite pieces that he feels have been given short shrift. (I do too.) But to trash the book because attention is not lavished on a rather minor output such as Gesang der Fruhe is seriously out of whack.

Revelatory--and Suggestive

Once you've read this book, you'll certainly understand the other appreciation/critique of Eric F. Jensen's "Schumann" that appears on this page. If you are fascinated by the amazing life that was Schumann's, you'll probably come away with a new perspective on his "adoring" wife Clara, the supposed priestest who presided over Schumann's musical legacy. And it won't be comforting. Jensen is too good and truthful a scholar to toss around accusations, but it's clear from the picture he paints of the last two years of Schumann's life, he had every right to feel abandoned by his wife and little aided by his well-meaning young friends Brahms and Joachim.Jensen starts with a sobering look at the diary entries written shortly after the Schumann's married. It's not difficult to see this early on in their marriage Clara's resentment over her stalled career as virtuoso pianist.Jensen also is clear and level-headed in his assessment of Schumann's art, praising where praise is belated due despite decades or even a century of misunderstanding by critics and audiences alike. Jensen thus includes a useful epilogue covering Schumann's successful exploration, late in his career, of the German fairy tale in music, especially its bizarre manifestation in the fantastic works of E. T. A. Hoffman and the adult fairy tales penned by the Brothers Grimm. But Jensen is equally truthful about the lack of inspiration and polish in much of Schumann's late musical productions--the ballads for chorus and orchestra, the concert overtures, the religious music, as well as the concerted music for piano and violin. However, Jensen's point is that despite crushing mental problems, Schumann managed to create successful works almost until he was committed to the insane asylum at Endenich. It seems clear from what Jensen says that Schumann was not in a state of constant mental decline in his last years. He had moments of great lucidity even at Endenich, and if Jensen is right, the composer could have left the asylum and possibly recovered.Jensen's style may not be especially literary, but it is effective in a quiet, self-effacing way. Still, given the nature of his subject, I missed the soaring prose of John Devario's great recent biography of the composer. On the other hand, I wouldn't want to be without Jensen either. His scholarship is impeccable and his insights revelatory. Just don't come away hating Clara too much!

The Caged Bird May or May Not Sing

SCHUMANN is a work of sound and thorough scholarship, refreshingly free of cant, pomposity, bombast, condescension, self-aggrandizement and arrogance, six pillars in the temple of bad academic writing. Mr. Jensen's thoughtful prose is eminently readable, his argument clear and convincing thanks in no small part to a masterly balancing of distance from and sympathy for his primary subject. The plight of temperament (in Schumann's case, genius) in conflict with ignorance, incomprehension, complacent professionalism and "benign" authoritarianism continues to be a matter of interest and concern. Who or what today would keep Schumann in a cage?