Philosophical Correspondence: A letter to Monsieur Ella
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 21 March 2023
Summary
Some judge of authors’ names, not works, and then
Nor praise nor blame the writings, but the men.
My dear Ella,
You ask me why the Mystery (The Flight into Egypt) bears the note
“attributed to Pierre Ducré, imaginary maître de chapelle”.
It’s the result of a misdeed I committed, a serious misdeed for which I’ve
been severely punished and shall always reproach myself. This is what happened.
One evening I was at the home of the Baron de M***, a sincere and intelligent friend of the arts, with one of my former fellow-students from the Rome Academy, the gifted architect Duc. Everyone except me was playing cards—écarté, whist and poker. I detest cards. By dint of great patience, and after thirty years of effort, I’ve reached the point of not knowing a single card game, so I can’t possibly be press-ganged by players in need of a partner.
So my boredom was pretty plain to see when Duc turned to me and said:
“Since you’re not doing anything, you’d better write a piece of music for my album!”
“With pleasure.”
I took a piece of paper and drew a few staves on it, and before long an andantino for organ in four parts was set down on them. I felt it had a certain naïve and artless mysticism about it, and at once the idea came to me of matching it with words in a similar vein. The organ piece disappeared and became a chorus of Bethlehem shepherds addressing their farewells to the infant Jesus at the time of the Holy Family’s departure for Egypt. The games of whist and poker were interrupted to listen to my religious stanzas. The mediaeval quality of the verse was enjoyed as much as that of my music.
“Now”, I said to Duc, “I’m going to put you on the spot by attributing it to you.”
“Don’t be silly! My friends are all perfectly aware that I know nothing at all about composition.”
“Well that doesn’t stop many people composing! All right then, since your vanity won’t let you adopt my piece, I’ll invent a name incorporating yours. It shall be Pierre Ducré, whom I appoint music-master of the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris during the seventeenth century. That will give my manuscript all the value of an archaeological curiosity.”
- Type
- Chapter
- Information
- The Musical MadhouseAn English Translation of Berlioz's <i>Les Grotesques de la musique</i>, pp. 106 - 109Publisher: Boydell & BrewerPrint publication year: 2003