I had a roommate years ago who oozed all things German -- at least that was his affectation. He talked incessantly about Nietzsche without, I think, ever really understanding him. The only non-fiction I can remember seeing him read was from Goethe and Thomas Mann. And the Wagner. The fucking Wagner! It was a dark day when he found an inexpensive, nearly complete collection of Wagner's recorded works at an estate sale and began playing it nearly 24/7. Don't get me wrong. I love some Wagner -- especially Tristan und Isolde. But damn it -- a man has his limits! Wagner day and fucking night! I needed an antidote, fast.
Then I read "The Dehumanization of Art" by Ortega y Gasset and came across for the first time the name Debussy. It was love at first listen. I don't rate him nearly as high as I do other composers, but his work -- especially La Mer -- holds a special place in my heart, not least because it helped prevent me from murdering the Ubermensch.
Then I read "The Dehumanization of Art" by Ortega y Gasset and came across for the first time the name Debussy. It was love at first listen. I don't rate him nearly as high as I do other composers, but his work -- especially La Mer -- holds a special place in my heart, not least because it helped prevent me from murdering the Ubermensch.
