| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Voyage of the Beagle by Charles Darwin: We did not see many natives until we were near Ponsonby
Sound, where we were followed by ten or twelve canoes. The
natives did not at all understand the reason of our tacking,
and, instead of meeting us at each tack, vainly strove to
follow us in our zigzag course. I was amused at finding
what a difference the circumstance of being quite superior
in force made, in the interest of beholding these savages.
While in the boats I got to hate the very sound of their
voices, so much trouble did they give us. The first and last
word was "yammerschooner." When, entering some quiet
little cove, we have looked round and thought to pass a quiet
The Voyage of the Beagle |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Human Drift by Jack London: part, and more and more the pretty boat went over on her side. We
bent all our spare lines; we unrove sheets and halyards; we used
our two-inch hawser; we fastened lines part way up the mast, half
way up, and everywhere else. We toiled and sweated and enounced
our mutual and sincere conviction that God's grudge still held
against us. Country yokels came down on the wharf and sniggered
at us. When Cloudesley let a coil of rope slip down the inclined
deck into the vile slime and fished it out with seasick
countenance, the yokels sniggered louder and it was all I could do
to prevent him from climbing up on the wharf and committing
murder.
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Massimilla Doni by Honore de Balzac: is performed as written, on every stage; it is so brilliant that the
leading lady does not substitute her favorite show piece, as is very
commonly done in operas.
"And now comes the most striking movement in the score: the duet
between Osiride and Elcia in the subterranean chamber where he has
hidden her to keep her from the departing Israelites, and to fly with
her himself from Egypt. The lovers are then intruded on by Aaron, who
has been to warn Amalthea, and we get the grandest of all quartettes:
/Mi manca la voce, mi sento morire/. This is one of those masterpieces
that will survive in spite of time, that destroyer of fashion in
music, for it speaks the language of the soul which can never change.
|
