To gather all the information from all the sources in all the diverse academic disciplines necessary to complete a work of this breadth is really difficult for me to imagine. Judit Frigyesi might be the only woman on the planet with the expertise (not to mention the desire...) to do it.
Frigyesi has somehow managed to view Bartok's life and works and social milieu with an enormous wide-angle lens and still extract essential (and often overlooked) details, to emerge ultimately with a very new interpretation of Bartok's artistic and social development, a new analysis of his works, and a new perspective on the moral, philosophical, aesthetic and political motivations that drove his imagination. This is really something else.
To do this required a strong background in (at least): social and political histories of Central Europe (Austria-Hungary and Germany in particular, including research into the seldom-illuminated cultural life and movements of peasants and gypsies); music theory, musicology and ethnomusicology; and German, English and Hungarian literature, poetry, and philosophy (and the fluency in all three languages necessary to read and interpret untranslated texts--Bartok's personal writings in particular).
In order to explain the dynamics of the intellectual movement of which Bartok was a part (and the influence these circles had on him as a person and an artist), Frigyesi takes as case studies brief slices in the outputs of three artists which she regards as interrelated and aesthetically and philosophically equivalent: a volume of poetry by Endre Ady (very little of his work has been translated into English, but it is regarded in Hungary as equal to or greater in cultural value than even Bartok's output), a failure of a play by Bela Balasz, and two underrated pieces by Bela Bartok (the first piano concerto and an opera--on Balasz's libretto--Duke Bluebeard's Castle.
Throughout her analyses of these works she weaves in mostly relevant narratives about Bartok's and Zoltan Kodaly's field research into regional folk music, Bartok's love life and literary interests, and the wildly complex and dynamic political currents in Hungary at the time (1902-1907, roughly).
The biggest surprise is that this doesn't make for boring reading (mostly). Frigyesi is certainly an academic first and foremost, but she brings to her work a passion and sensitivity that allows her to, without blinking, make claims about what an artist FEELS. It was passages in this vein that really got my pulse up. She was able to encapsulate this fledgling and precarious modernist movement--which stood often at odds with the more famous bullshitting going on in Vienna at the time--with eloquent writing about their sometimes tentative, sometimes brash explorations of the SOUL and the SELF, of the UNIVERSE, and of LOVE. This struck me often as really quite daring. A lot of academic writing, in order to justify itself, asks the big questions as we all know. But very little of it actually risks answering them.
I guess to make a long review a little longer, I can sum up my enthusiasm for this book with a short, simple statement: it made me like Bela Bartok's music more, even though I didn't think that was possible. Bravo.
Three stars because it could be a bogwalk at times. I started this book twice before finally deciding it was worth it.