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Every Valley: The Desperate Lives and Troubled Times That Made Handel's Messiah
From New York Times bestselling historian and National Book Critics Circle Award finalist Charles King, the moving untold story of the eighteenth-century men and women behind the making of Handel’s Messiah
George Frideric Handel’s Messiah is arguably the greatest piece of participatory art ever created. Adored by millions, it is performed each year by renowned choirs and orchestras, as well as by audiences singing along with the words on their cell phones.
But this work of triumphant joy was born in a worried age. Britain in the early Enlightenment was a place of astonishing creativity but also the seat of an empire mired in war, enslavement, and conflicts over everything from the legitimacy of government to the meaning of truth. Against this turbulent background, prize-winning author Charles King has crafted a cinematic drama of the troubled lives that shaped a masterpiece of hope.
Every Valley presents a depressive dissenter stirred to action by an ancient prophecy; an actress plagued by an abusive husband and public scorn; an Atlantic sea captain and penniless philanthropist; and an African Muslim man held captive in the American colonies and hatching a dangerous plan for getting back home. At center stage is Handel himself, composer to kings but, at midlife, in ill health and straining to keep an audience’s attention. Set amid royal intrigue, theater scandals, and political conspiracy, Every Valley is entertaining, inspiring, unforgettable.
George Frideric Handel’s Messiah is arguably the greatest piece of participatory art ever created. Adored by millions, it is performed each year by renowned choirs and orchestras, as well as by audiences singing along with the words on their cell phones.
But this work of triumphant joy was born in a worried age. Britain in the early Enlightenment was a place of astonishing creativity but also the seat of an empire mired in war, enslavement, and conflicts over everything from the legitimacy of government to the meaning of truth. Against this turbulent background, prize-winning author Charles King has crafted a cinematic drama of the troubled lives that shaped a masterpiece of hope.
Every Valley presents a depressive dissenter stirred to action by an ancient prophecy; an actress plagued by an abusive husband and public scorn; an Atlantic sea captain and penniless philanthropist; and an African Muslim man held captive in the American colonies and hatching a dangerous plan for getting back home. At center stage is Handel himself, composer to kings but, at midlife, in ill health and straining to keep an audience’s attention. Set amid royal intrigue, theater scandals, and political conspiracy, Every Valley is entertaining, inspiring, unforgettable.
335 pages, Hardcover
First published October 29, 2024
543 people are currently reading
2473 people want to read
About the author
Charles King
14 books217 followersCharles King is a New York Times-bestselling author and a professor at Georgetown University. His books include EVERY VALLEY (2024), on the making of Handel's Messiah, which was a New York Times Notable Book; GODS OF THE UPPER AIR (2019), on the reinvention of race and gender in the early twentieth century, which was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award and winner of the Francis Parkman Prize and the Anisfield-Wolf Award; MIDNIGHT AT THE PERA PALACE (2014), on the birth of modern Istanbul, which was the inspiration for a Netflix series of the same name; and ODESSA (2011), winner of a National Jewish Book Award.
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December 22, 2024
Every Valley tells the story of the social and political setting that produced Handel’s Messiah and shows how its composition was a reflection to those times—as it continues to touch our souls today. It is a history of the Georgian era and meanders broadly between a variety of issues and personalities, from issues of royal succession to the slave trade, from high infant mortality rates to summary biographies of several notable individuals. And of course there is a description of what we know about how and why the libretto and music were created and came together.
We refer to the era as the Enlightenment period and as an “age of reason,” but for the vast majority of people it was a period of tension and uncertainty, and for the poor their day-to-day life was filled with misery.
In addition to Handel the book’s narrative goes on to describe the lives of a variety of individuals from that period. The following is a listing of some of the other personalities featured in this book.
Charles Jennens, a wealthy 18th-century English country squire, art and book collector, music lover, hoarder of manuscripts and all-around aesthete, provided both the concept and text of the Messiah.
Susannah Cibber, a singer-actress whose salacious past was publicly exposed in detail from recorded court lawsuit testimony that was published and widely distributed and read, was contralto soloist at the premiere performance of Messiah. When she sang, "He was despised, ... rejected, ... a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief," the audience perceived genuine emotion behind those words. A Dublin clergyman was so overcome by her rendering of "He was despised" that reportedly he leapt to his feet and cried: "Woman, for this be all thy sins forgiven thee!"
Thomas Coram, philanthropist who worked for years soliciting funds for construction of the Foundling Hospital, collected contributions from English wealth much of which was based on the slave trade (i.e. wealth based on human suffering in Africa was being used to relieve human suffering in England). In later years the Messiah would be performed annually as a fund raiser for the institution.
Ayuba Diallo, an educated Muslim man from Africa who was kidnapped and sold into slavery, ended up being an unlikely celebrity. Through a combination of luck and magnetic personality he was able to convince a man of means to move him from slavery in the colonies to London and eventually back to Africa where he returned to his home.
Jonathan Swift who I knew only as a witty satirical writer was also Dean of St Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin and using the power of that position very nearly prevented the debut performance of the Messiah in 1742. He prohibited choristers from the Cathedral from performing in the secular venue where the Messiah was to be performed. Lobbying by his associates persuaded him to change his mind. The fact that proceeds from the performance were designated for philanthropic purposes probably played a role in his giving permission.
This book begins with the following words which I believe explains why looking into the environment that created the magic of the Messiah is of interest to us nearly three hundred years later.
We refer to the era as the Enlightenment period and as an “age of reason,” but for the vast majority of people it was a period of tension and uncertainty, and for the poor their day-to-day life was filled with misery.
“The Enlightenment as most people actually experienced it had fewer wigs and masked balls than we might imagine today, and far more pain and muddling through.” … “The truly pressing theme in their art, music, theater, philosophy, and theology was not, in fact, the triumph of rationality. It was instead how to manage catastrophe.”George Frideric Handel was born in Germany and as a musical prodigy spent some time in Italy and then found a home in England.
In addition to Handel the book’s narrative goes on to describe the lives of a variety of individuals from that period. The following is a listing of some of the other personalities featured in this book.
Charles Jennens, a wealthy 18th-century English country squire, art and book collector, music lover, hoarder of manuscripts and all-around aesthete, provided both the concept and text of the Messiah.
Susannah Cibber, a singer-actress whose salacious past was publicly exposed in detail from recorded court lawsuit testimony that was published and widely distributed and read, was contralto soloist at the premiere performance of Messiah. When she sang, "He was despised, ... rejected, ... a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief," the audience perceived genuine emotion behind those words. A Dublin clergyman was so overcome by her rendering of "He was despised" that reportedly he leapt to his feet and cried: "Woman, for this be all thy sins forgiven thee!"
Thomas Coram, philanthropist who worked for years soliciting funds for construction of the Foundling Hospital, collected contributions from English wealth much of which was based on the slave trade (i.e. wealth based on human suffering in Africa was being used to relieve human suffering in England). In later years the Messiah would be performed annually as a fund raiser for the institution.
Ayuba Diallo, an educated Muslim man from Africa who was kidnapped and sold into slavery, ended up being an unlikely celebrity. Through a combination of luck and magnetic personality he was able to convince a man of means to move him from slavery in the colonies to London and eventually back to Africa where he returned to his home.
Jonathan Swift who I knew only as a witty satirical writer was also Dean of St Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin and using the power of that position very nearly prevented the debut performance of the Messiah in 1742. He prohibited choristers from the Cathedral from performing in the secular venue where the Messiah was to be performed. Lobbying by his associates persuaded him to change his mind. The fact that proceeds from the performance were designated for philanthropic purposes probably played a role in his giving permission.
This book begins with the following words which I believe explains why looking into the environment that created the magic of the Messiah is of interest to us nearly three hundred years later.
Handel's Messiah has a good claim to being the greatest piece of participatory art ever created. It is heard and sung by more people every year than arguably any other piece in the classical repertoire.This book provides readers of today a glimpse of people and place where and when it came into being. Thus it also enhances one's appreciation of the work.
November 7, 2024
I have two degrees in music and as a singer I have performed Messiah in its entirety well over 100 times, not counting the times when I sang solos or performed in individual choruses of the work. It’s popular for a reason - it’s a work of genius, accessible and as majestic on its hundredth hearing as it was on the first. I was looking forward to reading this book because of the description of “behind the scenes” stories and was eager to hear something beyond what I had studied in graduate school. I was disappointed. The truth is, the stories, history and people surrounding Handel and Messiah for the most part just aren’t very interesting.
It’s clear that Charles King wanted to present an Eric Larson-style narrative that would expand and illuminate Handel’s work. The publisher’s blurb even mentions that the material is “cinematic,” so it seems clear what hopes they had for the book. But King didn’t present the story in a way that kept us turning pages. Too much time was spent on historical details that had little relationship to Handel, and characters were introduced whose purpose in being there was not made clear until about 3/4 of the way through the story. I’m also curious to know how much a non-musician would understand. There were a lot of technical terms that I think would be inaccessible to the general public. Handel himself is not a main character - he only speaks once, and the author here chose to make him say words using a very bad transcription of a German accent.
The book also contains the complete original libretto (script) and extensive notes and bibliography. Thanks to Doubleday and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this eARC in exchange for my honest review.
It’s clear that Charles King wanted to present an Eric Larson-style narrative that would expand and illuminate Handel’s work. The publisher’s blurb even mentions that the material is “cinematic,” so it seems clear what hopes they had for the book. But King didn’t present the story in a way that kept us turning pages. Too much time was spent on historical details that had little relationship to Handel, and characters were introduced whose purpose in being there was not made clear until about 3/4 of the way through the story. I’m also curious to know how much a non-musician would understand. There were a lot of technical terms that I think would be inaccessible to the general public. Handel himself is not a main character - he only speaks once, and the author here chose to make him say words using a very bad transcription of a German accent.
The book also contains the complete original libretto (script) and extensive notes and bibliography. Thanks to Doubleday and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this eARC in exchange for my honest review.
September 6, 2024
It took a universe of pain to make a musical monument to hope. from Every Valley by Charles King
The highlight of my choral singing career was performing the Messiah with the Philadelphia Orchestra. I had been singing alto since Third Grade, a part of school choirs and community choruses for decades. I had learned the Hallelujah chorus in high school. But, what a thrill to sing in the Academy of Music with one of the top orchestras in the country!
To tell the history of the Messiah, Every Valley vividly recreates the world of Georgian London, a time of political and religious turmoil, war, disease and high early childhood mortality rates, poverty, and cruel entertainments (including public hangings). There was a rise in literacy and publishing, a public demand for sensational stories, and operas were all the rage.
George Frideric Handel left Germany for London, which was on its way to becoming the largest city in Europe. He wrote music for royal occasions that we still hear in concert, including his Water Music that entertained King George I on his royal barge. His operas were so crowded that men were asked to leave their swords at home and women were begged to forgo their hoops.
It was the age of Jonathan Swift, Alexander Pope, and Samuel Johnson; Johann Sebastian Bach and Vivaldi. John Gay created the first comic opera and Swift wrote satires that still sting. There was Grub Street and newspapers (written by novelists, that is reporters of novel facts) that kept the public riveted to scandals and crime stories. The Little Ice Age resulted in crop failures and famines. And a time of wars and political intrigue with supporters of Bonnie Prince Charlie plotting to restore the Stuarts to the throne, and a splintering of Protestantism into suspect sects.
British trade reached across the world, and including transporting slaves. Georgia was being settled in America; the founders’ ideals soon abandoned as slaves were ‘leased’ to do the onerous work of settlement. One of Handel’s patrons supported Ignatius Sancho, a composer and playwright who was born on a slave ship.
She sang again of a man who knew sadness without being drowned by it, someone who taught that the opposite of fear was not bravery but understanding. […]By the end of the aria, it was wholly possible to believe that the greatest heroism was simple survival, that transcendence might even depend on knowing horror from the inside. from Every Valley by Charles King
The woman who sang in Handel’s operas was involved in a notorious scandal. Susannah Cibber was a popular actress whose husband sold her favors. She fell in love with the purchaser and they ran off together. Her husband took her to court, airing the sordid affair to the public. She was forgiven when her performance in the first presentation of the Messiah in Dublin profoundly moved listeners. She became the star of the stage, appearing with David Garrick.
The proceeds from the first performance of Messiah, went to charity, and later performances funded the first Foundling Hospital. Handel also donated concert profits to establish the Fund for Decay’d Musicians, which became the Royal Society of Musicians.
The story of how the Messiah came to be is unexpectedly filled with colorful characters, including the man who penned the libretto of Messiah. Charles Jennens was eccentric, often plagued by physical and mental distress. He was dedicated to his friend Edward Holdsworth and after Holdsworth’s death Jennens building him an elaborate memorial on his estate.
King does a marvelous job of explaining the Messiah and the message Jennens wanted to send. “Comfort ye” are the first words. “The Messiah is a work of anguish and promise, of profound worry and resounding joy, all expressed in ingenious, irresistible melodies,” King writes. It moved audiences then, and even the most secular of listeners are moved today.
At the end of the book you can read Jennens’ entire libretto.
Thanks to the publisher for a free book through NetGalley.
The highlight of my choral singing career was performing the Messiah with the Philadelphia Orchestra. I had been singing alto since Third Grade, a part of school choirs and community choruses for decades. I had learned the Hallelujah chorus in high school. But, what a thrill to sing in the Academy of Music with one of the top orchestras in the country!
To tell the history of the Messiah, Every Valley vividly recreates the world of Georgian London, a time of political and religious turmoil, war, disease and high early childhood mortality rates, poverty, and cruel entertainments (including public hangings). There was a rise in literacy and publishing, a public demand for sensational stories, and operas were all the rage.
George Frideric Handel left Germany for London, which was on its way to becoming the largest city in Europe. He wrote music for royal occasions that we still hear in concert, including his Water Music that entertained King George I on his royal barge. His operas were so crowded that men were asked to leave their swords at home and women were begged to forgo their hoops.
It was the age of Jonathan Swift, Alexander Pope, and Samuel Johnson; Johann Sebastian Bach and Vivaldi. John Gay created the first comic opera and Swift wrote satires that still sting. There was Grub Street and newspapers (written by novelists, that is reporters of novel facts) that kept the public riveted to scandals and crime stories. The Little Ice Age resulted in crop failures and famines. And a time of wars and political intrigue with supporters of Bonnie Prince Charlie plotting to restore the Stuarts to the throne, and a splintering of Protestantism into suspect sects.
British trade reached across the world, and including transporting slaves. Georgia was being settled in America; the founders’ ideals soon abandoned as slaves were ‘leased’ to do the onerous work of settlement. One of Handel’s patrons supported Ignatius Sancho, a composer and playwright who was born on a slave ship.
She sang again of a man who knew sadness without being drowned by it, someone who taught that the opposite of fear was not bravery but understanding. […]By the end of the aria, it was wholly possible to believe that the greatest heroism was simple survival, that transcendence might even depend on knowing horror from the inside. from Every Valley by Charles King
The woman who sang in Handel’s operas was involved in a notorious scandal. Susannah Cibber was a popular actress whose husband sold her favors. She fell in love with the purchaser and they ran off together. Her husband took her to court, airing the sordid affair to the public. She was forgiven when her performance in the first presentation of the Messiah in Dublin profoundly moved listeners. She became the star of the stage, appearing with David Garrick.
The proceeds from the first performance of Messiah, went to charity, and later performances funded the first Foundling Hospital. Handel also donated concert profits to establish the Fund for Decay’d Musicians, which became the Royal Society of Musicians.
The story of how the Messiah came to be is unexpectedly filled with colorful characters, including the man who penned the libretto of Messiah. Charles Jennens was eccentric, often plagued by physical and mental distress. He was dedicated to his friend Edward Holdsworth and after Holdsworth’s death Jennens building him an elaborate memorial on his estate.
King does a marvelous job of explaining the Messiah and the message Jennens wanted to send. “Comfort ye” are the first words. “The Messiah is a work of anguish and promise, of profound worry and resounding joy, all expressed in ingenious, irresistible melodies,” King writes. It moved audiences then, and even the most secular of listeners are moved today.
At the end of the book you can read Jennens’ entire libretto.
Thanks to the publisher for a free book through NetGalley.
December 28, 2024
I have sort of mixed feelings about this book. On one had, you come away with a very vivid sense of the time - the political, social, and cultural context in which the Messiah was written. There are some fascinating stories about people involved in its creation (Susannah Cibber’s being the most astonishing, but the link to Coram’s Foundling Hospital and Jonathan Swift’s brief cameo were interesting as well.) The part about its premier in Dublin, where Handel and Cibber were basically in exile, is super interesting. King is also really effective in helping readers connect with obscure bits of history by providing an access point they’re familiar with (eg: some iron baron was responsible for felling the legendary Sherwood Forest to fuel his forges.) He has a very engaging writing style.
However, that engaging writing style is also a liability. The prose is overwritten, becoming purple in places. There appears to be rather a LOT of interpretation going on, as vast passages are unsourced. And there is a truly absurd amount of “he may well have felt” and “she may well have thought.” Like, no dude. Stick to the historical record, and leave it at that. In a quest to write an entertaining and accessible narrative, he has written…fiction?
I also thought including Diallo’s story was a ridiculous stretch. There is no direct connection between his story and Handel or the Messiah. I kept waiting for it all to tie together, like Cibber and Coram’s stories did….and it did not. It’s like King stumbled across a (truly) amazing story and decided to shoehorn it in.
So…meh?
However, that engaging writing style is also a liability. The prose is overwritten, becoming purple in places. There appears to be rather a LOT of interpretation going on, as vast passages are unsourced. And there is a truly absurd amount of “he may well have felt” and “she may well have thought.” Like, no dude. Stick to the historical record, and leave it at that. In a quest to write an entertaining and accessible narrative, he has written…fiction?
I also thought including Diallo’s story was a ridiculous stretch. There is no direct connection between his story and Handel or the Messiah. I kept waiting for it all to tie together, like Cibber and Coram’s stories did….and it did not. It’s like King stumbled across a (truly) amazing story and decided to shoehorn it in.
So…meh?
February 11, 2025
Someone gave me this book knowing that as a violinist, I had played in Handel's "Messiah" Oratorio a few times. It seems to me, though, that the author wanted to write three different books here: one specifically concerning the creation and early performance history of "Messiah;" one, a biography of George Frideric Handel; and one about the political, cultural, and intellectual history of the period roughly 1650-1750. So far as the first is concerned, I was fairly well satisfied, and appreciated the inclusion of the stories of Charles Jennens, who wrote the libretto, and Susannah Cibber, one of the soloists who had an impact on work's success. I was also willing to accept that it was to be a modest biography, providing about two-thirds of what one might expect from a fully committed one. But the third aspect, while filled with interesting essays, really should be a separate book. For example he could cut the section on Jonathan Swift, and cut the long, detailed section on the Jacobite Rebellion. There was a point in the middle where I searched for Handel's name and skipped over about one hundred pages until I found it again. I did not feel at a disadvantage for having done so as I read the last third of the book. Thoroughness is important, but so is focus. How many ingredients can you throw into a stew before you've gone too far? This is the amateur editor in me, I know!
April 12, 2025
A somewhat sprawling tale of the period and people surrounding Handel's "Messiah".
It really did feel like I was being offered to much. Some of what was shared was very peripheral to "The Messiah" and how it came about. I recognize that not every story or history is a straight forward exercise (A leads to B leads to C...), and while interesting, all the additional pieces felt a bit much.
It really did feel like I was being offered to much. Some of what was shared was very peripheral to "The Messiah" and how it came about. I recognize that not every story or history is a straight forward exercise (A leads to B leads to C...), and while interesting, all the additional pieces felt a bit much.
January 12, 2025
I didn’t know that Handel’s Messiah was actually written for Easter. I didn’t know that Handel knew Jonathan Swift. I also had no idea that Handel’s impact is still felt in so many settings today. From his Messiah being played every Christmas to Charles III choosing Zadok the Priest in 2023 for his coronation, Handel’s music is still everywhere. It’s fascinating to read about the turmoil that swirled around Handel when he created Messiah, but I kept getting frustrated by how much time was devoted to other historical figures. This is an interesting book, but you have to be in the right frame of mind to truly enjoy it.
January 3, 2025
I think I may have learned more about Handel's Messiah from singing it and reading CD liner notes, but this is still a worthwhile read for the fan. King throws a very wide net, so in addition to learning a lot about vaguely known figures like Jennens and the remarkable Mrs. Cibber, you learn about the Foundling Hospital, the Dublin debut, Handel's career, and the strange arc of the British monarchy from Charles I to the death of the "Pretender." Maybe there's a little too much of the modern non-fiction tendency to be all things to all people, but it's still enjoyable.
December 13, 2024
Excellent. I had just finished teaching a homeschool class about Handel when this was given to me as an early Christmas gift. I loved it!
I enjoyed the sections about Ayuba Diallo, but including him in the narrative felt less organically part of the story than the other disparate threads.
I enjoyed the sections about Ayuba Diallo, but including him in the narrative felt less organically part of the story than the other disparate threads.
November 9, 2024
Thank you to Charles King, the publisher and NetGalley for this advance reader copy.
I originally received this book this summer but was sadly unable to finish before the release date.
I enjoy a good memoir or a history of 20th century music, but I'm not at all a classical music aficionado so I’m not sure what compelled me to request this book but I’m glad I did.
This is partially a biography of the composer George Friderick Handel, but also a history of what led to his “Messiah” composition, including the scandals, indignities and injustices of those connected to it.
Charles King’s writing is scrupulous and somewhat beguiling for the subject matter. What could have been a very short biography on Handel’s life was made far more interesting by the seemingly disparate stories about its parts and players.
I’m glad to have read it and highly recommend it for music history buffs.
I originally received this book this summer but was sadly unable to finish before the release date.
I enjoy a good memoir or a history of 20th century music, but I'm not at all a classical music aficionado so I’m not sure what compelled me to request this book but I’m glad I did.
This is partially a biography of the composer George Friderick Handel, but also a history of what led to his “Messiah” composition, including the scandals, indignities and injustices of those connected to it.
Charles King’s writing is scrupulous and somewhat beguiling for the subject matter. What could have been a very short biography on Handel’s life was made far more interesting by the seemingly disparate stories about its parts and players.
I’m glad to have read it and highly recommend it for music history buffs.
November 24, 2024
This was fascinating!
April 11, 2025
Review title: The Subject is Messiah
That memorable sentence by Charles Jennens was the first written reference to Handel's great masterpiece. Jennens was a London investor and advisor who traveled in the same noble circles as Handel, and compiled the biblical texts that became the Messiah with Handel's score and production.
Charles King recounts how Handel's career progressed through the fortunate influence of patronage at opportune times. From a role as essentially a student intern in musical theater in his German home, he was invited to Italy where stage music was being invented and innovated into modern forms of opera, oratorio, and musicals. There he made connections with German nobility which would soon be wed to British royalty, and when he went to London for a season in 1710, he parlayed his artistic talent and political connections into a role as musical director of a royal theater company.
Once an upstart, he became a star. Over the years his repertoire, audience, and influence earned him money, fame, and enemies in a world which King describes as fraught with political intrigue, violence, and dismay. In 1732 Handel staged an English-language version of the Biblical story of Esther as an oratorio: "a concert with several soloists and a chorus but no costumes, stage effects or running about" (p. 98). Originating as a workaround for the Catholic prohibition on stage plays during Lent, the oratorio format proved popular and profitable; listeners understood the lyrics in English and were familiar with the Biblical story, while eliminating sets and costumes reduced production costs. The stage was set for Messiah.
King joins the story of its creation with other central characters, starting with Jennens, who was at times a combative friend and admirer of Handel. He includes the account of the learned Muslim Ayuba Diallo, captured into slavery and shipped to America before being bought out of slavery with noble patronage and sent to London contemporary with Handel's time there. Thomas Coram's efforts to rescue poor orphans from London's hard streets and establish the Foundling Hospital interweave with Jennen's and Handel's stories. Susanna Cibber was a London stage performer whose sad personal life made her an early target of celebrity gossip, but who Handel tagged to be the lead soloist for the first performance of his work, a performance that set Cibber's career on an upward path that saw her acknowledged as the greatest stage actress of her time.
Then King places the Messiah's writing firmly within the society where it was born, a society deeply in need of hope. Poverty was rampant among workers who left farms and villages to work in the new urban factories. Child mortality in the mid-century was horrific; best estimates of children who died before their first birthday range from 50 to 75 percent. Women had no rights independent of their parents or spouse, and no right to vote (few men did either) or work in government, law, or the church. And the foundation of the imperial economy was slave trading (see Bury the Chains: Prophets and Rebels in the fight to free an empire's slaves ). Even Handel earned capital gains from investment in slave trading (p. 134).
The timing was also propitious because the King James Bible, then a century old, had shaped the English language into a standardized vocabulary that was "both comprehensible and just ancient enough to be mysterious. . . . Far from being arcane or archaic, biblical imagery and phrasing blessed as definitive by the King James text were seen as a kind of ideal--a demonstration, sentence after sentence, not just of what language could mean but of what it could do." (p. 179-180). Jennens, an introvert and melancholic hypochondriac (he called his down periods "the hyp", p. 86-87), would spend hours in his extensive personal library reading scripture and commentaries and taking notes.
King's introduction is a 15-page essay on the power of the words and music of the completed work that by itself is worthy of five stars.
On July 10, 1741, after sending his compiled notes to Handel, in a letter to a mutual friend Jennen wrote that memorable sentence "The Subject is Messiah." (p. 183) By mid-September Handel had completed the hand-written score for voice and four instruments, and later that autumn he sailed to Dublin with printed copies of the oratorio, in response to an invitation to perform there to lift the spirits of the Irish after a cold year and failed crops (and to get out of London where his productions were having a down year). When the Messiah was debuted at a Dublin theater April 13, 1742, the reception from the overflow audience was overwhelming. But performances back in London were beset by controversy and poor attendance, and by 1749 even though Handel's stock had risen as the royal composer during a period of growing national confidence he had conducted his future masterpiece only eight times (p. 230). The next decade would see a revival of the piece when it became an annual fundraising event for the Foundling Hospital. Handel passed away in 1759, memorialized in Westminster Abbey and remembered for his now universally-acknowledged masterpiece. Jennens would live many more years, but was seldom acknowledged for his role in preparing the texts that Handel would revise and set to music.
King's account has increased my appreciation of the beauty and spiritual significance of this astounding piece of music by enabling me to better understand its eternal worth through the very human story of its creation. Let King summarize it:
The Subject is Messiah.
That memorable sentence by Charles Jennens was the first written reference to Handel's great masterpiece. Jennens was a London investor and advisor who traveled in the same noble circles as Handel, and compiled the biblical texts that became the Messiah with Handel's score and production.
Charles King recounts how Handel's career progressed through the fortunate influence of patronage at opportune times. From a role as essentially a student intern in musical theater in his German home, he was invited to Italy where stage music was being invented and innovated into modern forms of opera, oratorio, and musicals. There he made connections with German nobility which would soon be wed to British royalty, and when he went to London for a season in 1710, he parlayed his artistic talent and political connections into a role as musical director of a royal theater company.
Once an upstart, he became a star. Over the years his repertoire, audience, and influence earned him money, fame, and enemies in a world which King describes as fraught with political intrigue, violence, and dismay. In 1732 Handel staged an English-language version of the Biblical story of Esther as an oratorio: "a concert with several soloists and a chorus but no costumes, stage effects or running about" (p. 98). Originating as a workaround for the Catholic prohibition on stage plays during Lent, the oratorio format proved popular and profitable; listeners understood the lyrics in English and were familiar with the Biblical story, while eliminating sets and costumes reduced production costs. The stage was set for Messiah.
King joins the story of its creation with other central characters, starting with Jennens, who was at times a combative friend and admirer of Handel. He includes the account of the learned Muslim Ayuba Diallo, captured into slavery and shipped to America before being bought out of slavery with noble patronage and sent to London contemporary with Handel's time there. Thomas Coram's efforts to rescue poor orphans from London's hard streets and establish the Foundling Hospital interweave with Jennen's and Handel's stories. Susanna Cibber was a London stage performer whose sad personal life made her an early target of celebrity gossip, but who Handel tagged to be the lead soloist for the first performance of his work, a performance that set Cibber's career on an upward path that saw her acknowledged as the greatest stage actress of her time.
Then King places the Messiah's writing firmly within the society where it was born, a society deeply in need of hope. Poverty was rampant among workers who left farms and villages to work in the new urban factories. Child mortality in the mid-century was horrific; best estimates of children who died before their first birthday range from 50 to 75 percent. Women had no rights independent of their parents or spouse, and no right to vote (few men did either) or work in government, law, or the church. And the foundation of the imperial economy was slave trading (see Bury the Chains: Prophets and Rebels in the fight to free an empire's slaves ). Even Handel earned capital gains from investment in slave trading (p. 134).
The timing was also propitious because the King James Bible, then a century old, had shaped the English language into a standardized vocabulary that was "both comprehensible and just ancient enough to be mysterious. . . . Far from being arcane or archaic, biblical imagery and phrasing blessed as definitive by the King James text were seen as a kind of ideal--a demonstration, sentence after sentence, not just of what language could mean but of what it could do." (p. 179-180). Jennens, an introvert and melancholic hypochondriac (he called his down periods "the hyp", p. 86-87), would spend hours in his extensive personal library reading scripture and commentaries and taking notes.
He spread the volumes across tables. . . . He copied down specific phrases on fresh sheets of paper, noting passages . . . from the King James Bible or the Book of Common Prayer, the basic liturgy used in the Anglican church, sometimes with slight rewordings rather than the biblical originals. He drew out the explicit connections the theologians had made between the prophecies contained in the Hebrew scriptures and, as he understood it, their fulfillment in the New Testament. . . .
At some point, he began to sort his reading notes into three large parts. The first was to cover the prophecy of God's plan for redeeming mankind and the future events through which that prophecy would unfold. Jennens started with the promise that the ephemera of life were not random, that there was a reason to be at ease in the world and confident about the future. The second part showed the suffering and tribulation of the world and narrated the traditional story of the passion of Jesus Christ, but in a swerving, episodic way, rich in violent imagery, shifting again and again between the biblical storyline and the challenge of contemporary belief. The third part was a grand hymn of thanksgiving for God's erasure of human faults and the final triumph over death. (p. 182)
King's introduction is a 15-page essay on the power of the words and music of the completed work that by itself is worthy of five stars.
On July 10, 1741, after sending his compiled notes to Handel, in a letter to a mutual friend Jennen wrote that memorable sentence "The Subject is Messiah." (p. 183) By mid-September Handel had completed the hand-written score for voice and four instruments, and later that autumn he sailed to Dublin with printed copies of the oratorio, in response to an invitation to perform there to lift the spirits of the Irish after a cold year and failed crops (and to get out of London where his productions were having a down year). When the Messiah was debuted at a Dublin theater April 13, 1742, the reception from the overflow audience was overwhelming. But performances back in London were beset by controversy and poor attendance, and by 1749 even though Handel's stock had risen as the royal composer during a period of growing national confidence he had conducted his future masterpiece only eight times (p. 230). The next decade would see a revival of the piece when it became an annual fundraising event for the Foundling Hospital. Handel passed away in 1759, memorialized in Westminster Abbey and remembered for his now universally-acknowledged masterpiece. Jennens would live many more years, but was seldom acknowledged for his role in preparing the texts that Handel would revise and set to music.
King's account has increased my appreciation of the beauty and spiritual significance of this astounding piece of music by enabling me to better understand its eternal worth through the very human story of its creation. Let King summarize it:
It took a universe of pain to make a musical monument to hope. . . . In line after line of song, the Messiah's main message still comes through: a key to living better is practicing how to believe more. The cynics are wrong, but so, too, are the naive optimists, a point that Jennens emphasized over and over again in his selection of scriptures. There is no sorrow like this sorrow, no heaviness like the one that only we can know. Darkness really does sometimes cover the face of the earth, and we are all, in our ways, astray. But the route out of despair, he concluded, lay on the pathway toward it.
His method was to take the words of the prophets seriously, the essence of which soloists and choirs have been proclaiming, in Handel's version, for nearly three hundred years. Be not afraid. Dwell among your fears and enemies long enough for them to lose their sting. Take captivity captive. Precisely at the point when all seems lost, rejoice greatly. (p. 257)
The Subject is Messiah.
November 27, 2024
Not what I was expecting. The story behind The Messiah is probably a third or less of this history of the societal ills of 18th Century London.
February 8, 2025
I was so excited to read this when I saw it at the bookstore; it felt perfectly tailored to my niche interests. Unfortunately, I walked away feeling it was hardly about Handel’s “Messiah” and almost exclusively about “the desperate lives and troubled times”. The author is clearly fascinated by the time period and at first, they were able to rope me in with the setup. As all of the tertiary characters and their stories kept going on and on, I started to wonder when we’d ever get back to Handel. I think it is absolutely worthwhile to include historical context and to dive into tangents in a book such as this, but I feel the title is a bit misleading. While it states “the desperate lives and troubled times that made Handel’s Messiah”, a substantial amount of the stories and lives do not feel wholly consequential to the making of “Messiah”.
It feels that the intention was for all of the stories to culminate together in a grand narrative that at last builds up to “Messiah”, but history isn’t always so narrative. I learned some neat information and the content I didn’t like might have been enjoyable in a vacuum, but I came here for a certain topic and feel slighted at not getting much of it or even a story that feels necessary to the understanding of “Messiah” and its creation.
It feels that the intention was for all of the stories to culminate together in a grand narrative that at last builds up to “Messiah”, but history isn’t always so narrative. I learned some neat information and the content I didn’t like might have been enjoyable in a vacuum, but I came here for a certain topic and feel slighted at not getting much of it or even a story that feels necessary to the understanding of “Messiah” and its creation.
May 5, 2025
Although I put this encyclopedic story of the Messiah down many times, I kept coming back to it. The origin of The Messiah is probably one quarter of the story, the rest is an exhaustive exploration of the historical, cultural and political events leading up to its first and eventually, regular performances.
Most people can readily recall their first exposure to the entire oratorio. For me, it was in the acoustically magnificent, but decrepit grandeur of Detroit’s Orchestra Hall shortly after it reopened following a 30 year abandonment. The music was soaring and at one point, so was a bat. As with the first performance of the Messiah, our’s was a fund-raiser, this time for “Save Orchestra Hall”, instead of the London Foundling Hospital. As with the first performance the audience was inspired probably as much by the cause as by the music. And in Detroit, when people are inspired by music, they get up and sing. The entire audience joined in the Hallelujah chorus. (I’ve since been to other cities, most notably, Carnegie Hall in New York, and was stunned to see that no one sang along.). If you can sing along as you read this account of 18th century Britain and Handel, you’ll appreciate this book.
Most people can readily recall their first exposure to the entire oratorio. For me, it was in the acoustically magnificent, but decrepit grandeur of Detroit’s Orchestra Hall shortly after it reopened following a 30 year abandonment. The music was soaring and at one point, so was a bat. As with the first performance of the Messiah, our’s was a fund-raiser, this time for “Save Orchestra Hall”, instead of the London Foundling Hospital. As with the first performance the audience was inspired probably as much by the cause as by the music. And in Detroit, when people are inspired by music, they get up and sing. The entire audience joined in the Hallelujah chorus. (I’ve since been to other cities, most notably, Carnegie Hall in New York, and was stunned to see that no one sang along.). If you can sing along as you read this account of 18th century Britain and Handel, you’ll appreciate this book.
December 28, 2024
For lovers of 18th century history and music, this is a must-read. But be warned that it's not "just" about the creation of Handel's Messiah--it's a wide-ranging look at the age, and it's amazing how so many famous 18th century characters find their connection to Handel and his work. Jonathan Swift, Pope, actress/singer Susannah Cibber, George II, Coram of the Foundling's Hospital.
At times moving, always fascinating. You'll want to read with the Messiah playing in the background.
At times moving, always fascinating. You'll want to read with the Messiah playing in the background.
January 2, 2025
Engaging but a little too digressive.
December 25, 2024
Filled with unexpected history [that while very good, made me wonder at times how it related to Handel and his music ], lots of musical references and theory [as I am musical, this was fascinating to me and it was some of the parts of the book I really enjoyed, but I do wonder if non-musical people will struggle here ], and religious fervor and the like [there always seems to be religious fervor ], this was a very interesting [though there were moments of real tedium ] deep-dive into one of the greatest pieces of music ever [in my opinion of course ;-) ]. Well, sort of.
If you are wanting a biography of Handel, this is not it. Not even remotely. He actually doesn't even feature that much in this book [nor does Mr. Jennings, who helped write Messiah {this was all very new news to me and I was shocked at how easily he has been erased}, but is never mentioned - I'd have loved more about that ], which was rather odd and slightly disappointing.
While the history was amazing [I DID learn quite a bit about many other things ] and the music theory a fantastic refresher course [its been years since I did any kind of study in that department ], I was expecting so much more in regards to Handel [the complete Messiah is included at the end of the book and that was a real plus {and showed what a genius Handel was} and it was a real joy to read that through and I look forward to listening to the whole thing whilst reading it again ], and the lack of that left me wanting so much more.
**A NOTE: the audiobook narration is absolutely stunning and I highly recommend it. I'd listen to Juliet Stevenson read the phone book [and give her performance 5 glowing stars ] and she once again does not disappoint, It made this book even more enjoyable [the tedious parts less so because of it ].
Thank you to NetGalley, Charles King, and Doubleday Books/Doubleday for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
If you are wanting a biography of Handel, this is not it. Not even remotely. He actually doesn't even feature that much in this book [nor does Mr. Jennings, who helped write Messiah {this was all very new news to me and I was shocked at how easily he has been erased}, but is never mentioned - I'd have loved more about that ], which was rather odd and slightly disappointing.
While the history was amazing [I DID learn quite a bit about many other things ] and the music theory a fantastic refresher course [its been years since I did any kind of study in that department ], I was expecting so much more in regards to Handel [the complete Messiah is included at the end of the book and that was a real plus {and showed what a genius Handel was} and it was a real joy to read that through and I look forward to listening to the whole thing whilst reading it again ], and the lack of that left me wanting so much more.
**A NOTE: the audiobook narration is absolutely stunning and I highly recommend it. I'd listen to Juliet Stevenson read the phone book [and give her performance 5 glowing stars ] and she once again does not disappoint, It made this book even more enjoyable [the tedious parts less so because of it ].
Thank you to NetGalley, Charles King, and Doubleday Books/Doubleday for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
December 16, 2025
I know and love Messiah, having sung it probably 50+ times over the years. This book was terrible. It assumes a level of knowledge most of us don’t have, so I found myself going to Wikipedia often to fill in the details. Who is Samantha Cibber? Handel’s mistress? Family friend? Why a chapter on her? Oh, Wikipedia tells me she sang the contralto part at the first public performance. That would’ve been helpful context. None of the stuff about Ayuba Diallo had anything to do with anything. Almost nothing about how Messiah came to be so beloved or how frequently it’s performed or the shift from Easter to a Christmas staple. Save yourself and listen to the podcast Freakonomics Radio did. You’ll learn a lot more.
January 13, 2025
Wow. Wow. Wow. I absolutely loved this historical exploration of the “desperate lives and troubled times of Handel’s Messiah.” I couldn’t put it down. Riveting to put this beloved piece of music in deep context. I learned so, so much. I can’t wait to hear the Messiah in performance again. I am awestruck now more than ever.
May 7, 2025
Handel’s Messiah has always been one of the most stirring and inspiring pieces of music for me. It has such a way of bringing the grandeur of God right into your heart. The history behind it is complicated and sad but that is the author’s argument that gives it such depth and beauty that you can feel without knowing a single thing about how it came to be.
November 11, 2024
3.5 Stars for an interesting look at the world Handel lived in. I learned so much about Europe, politics and the creative process in this book. Parts had more detail than I needed but as a step into non-fiction this was a good read!
January 3, 2025
A detailed history lesson in the creation of George Frideric Handel's famous oratorio, Messiah. Full of specifics from the Enlightenment Age in Europe, the reader gets acquainted with the harrowing way of life during the 1700's.
February 10, 2025
I really like this book! It was so interesting and though it was full of information, it was written in such a way that the information flowed nicely along and you didn't get bogged down. It almost read like a story.
January 27, 2025
The book is exactly what the title describes, while Handel is often in the background. However it gives an excellent view of England’s social and religious injustices and political issues of the 1700’s. As a fan of the Messiah and Handel’s music, I found this book interesting and informative and a pleasure to read.
November 24, 2025
This book was lovely to read and I learned many things. I was touched by the goodness and hardships that many of these historical figures went through and the meaning that gave the Messiah.
I will say that a large chunk of this is British history which I did not expect.
I will say that a large chunk of this is British history which I did not expect.
April 28, 2025
Despite a fair explanation in the title, I began reading this book expecting to learn about Handel and what shaped him. Instead the book was mostly about the times in which he lived. To what extent his times had a direct influence on Handel is not very clear. The reader, I think, is left to make assumptions. I might quarrel a little with the subtitle to say it should have read “The . . . Troubled Times in which Handel wrote His Messiah.”
Handel, born in Halle, Germany in 1685, came to England at the age of twenty-five, having already received acclaim in Italy where he became conversant in Italian opera, which just happened to be all the rage in England at the time he arrived. Most of Handel’s time in England was during the reign of George I and George II and, before them, the last years of Queen Anne’s reign. He composed pieces for her which she liked well enough to make him one of her royal musicians and awarded him an annual pension that was continued through the reigns of George I and George II. Some of his most notable pieces honored the Hanover kings: “Water Music” for George I, “Music for the Royal Fireworks” for George II, and “Zadok the Priest” for George II’s Coronation, which has been played for every British coronation since, including Charles III’s. So, although Handel was sometimes less than wealthy, he was never poor. And apparently he had extravagant tastes, especially in food and wine.
King writes about the artistic, social and political events of this age with a very big cast of characters, meandering through notables known and several unknowns many, or most, of whom didn’t directly impact Handel but tell us about the age in which he composed his music. It was an expansive era and an era often known as the Age of Enlightenment. But not the way we usually think of it. King describes the Age this way:
“The Enlightenment as most people actually experienced it had fewer wigs and masked balls than we might imagine today, and far more pain and muddling through.… The truly pressing theme in their art, music, theater, philosophy, and theology was not, in fact, the triumph of rationality. It was instead how to manage catastrophe.”
He picks up this theme especially when, near the end of his book, he comes to the making of the “Messiah.” But before we get there we’re taken through the royal successions, including the pretenders to the throne; various wars; slavery and the story of one named slave who seems very tangential to the narrative; attempts to establish a new colony in North America that would be peopled not with plantation owners but with craftsmen, small landowners, and incarcerated debtors who wished to start a new life overseas. It was to be called Georgia, in honor of George II, who granted a charter for this new colony. (Who knew that’s how Georgia got its name?) At any rate, the prime mover behind this new settlement was a man named Thomas Coram who does, later, tie into Handel’s story. And there’s also a long (unnecessarily long) story about a singer, actress, woman-of-ill repute, Susannah Cibber, who also gets connected to Handel. And Jennens, a wealthy country squire, an anxious depressive who had but two passions: music and God. He, we learn, supplied the text for the Messiah.
On the literary front, Dafoe, Pope and Swift are discussed. Dafoe and Pope rather briefly and Swift in greater length. People who knew Swift, King writes, probably also knew Handel,
“and the two men were sometimes described as versions of the same personality: witty to excess, sarcastic, talented at making ordinary things seem strange and new, and ‘able to throw persons and things into very ridiculous attitudes’.”
Swift’s satire offended many powerful groups and to keep them at bay, Swift’s supporters persuaded Queen Anne to appoint him to a senior religious position, which she did not long before her death. The appointment, however, was in Ireland, not in England, and so he became the Dean of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin. People attended his services, King tells us, just to hear what outranges he might deliver in his sermons. Among his duties as Dean was the job of managing the choristers. He disliked music. “I would not give a farthing for all the music in the universe,” he reportedly told a parishioner. And that’s how he ties in to Handel.
Handel made his first and only trip to Ireland at the invitation of the Duke of Devonshire who hoped the opportunity of hearing the great master perform outside of London would lift Irish spirits in the face of crop failure. It so happened it was also a slow season for Handel in London, so he accepted the invitation to do a series of concerts. His first series of concerts went well but, in the middle of them, the increasingly irascible Swift decided his choristers could not participate. A series of negotiations allowed them to continue, but the trouble was far from over. A second series had been announced with an unspecified program. The Easter season was approaching and Handel had the new music he had composed for Jennens’ scripture collection. He needed soloists and a large assembly of choristers. He scrambled to find them.
It so happened that Susannah Cibber had fled to Ireland and was performing there. She had been made infamous in London because of her liaison with a married man and been jailed after lawsuits brought by her husband. Handel had used her in performances occasionally in London. She had a thin voice, a narrow range, and couldn’t read music; but she inhabited every song she sung and every role she played. Somehow she was spellbinding. She accepted Handel’s invitation to be in his new composition. Since she couldn’t read music, Handel would have had to teach her every part she would sing. As to the choristers, Swift had once again decreed they couldn’t participate. He would relent and then he would renege. Everyone, King writes, from public officials, friends, the general public tried to get Swift to change his mind. He almost prevented the first audition of the Messiah’s performance, but at some point Swift changed his mind, persuaded, King thinks, by the announcement that the proceeds from Handel’s new work would be used for such worthy causes as paying off the debts of incarcerated paupers.
“The Messiah” would be performed. It was as patched together a company as Handel had ever assembled – the notorious Cibber, a German soprano, two amalgamated church choirs, and the equivalent of an army band – tasked with performing a collection of sacred scriptures, with no plot, all of it set to the conventions of Italian opera. Jennens had tied together quotes from Isaiah, the story of the Nativity and the Passion and the Resurrection: essentially the Christian narrative. It opened to a packed house. King takes us through the ups and downs of the scripture passages which Jennens had selected and how Handel’s music tied them together but, most tellingly, how Cibber’s own well-known predicament seemed to echo what Isaiah had written – despised, rejected, a man/woman of sorrows, acquainted with grief. An account of that first performance places the chancellor of Christ’s church in the audience. After Cibber finished the last word of her aria, he reportedly proclaimed from his seat, “Woman, for this be all thy sins forgiven.” Among Handel’s music innovations, King describes what has become familiar to us: for “Hallelujah” and “forever,” Handel applied rhythms just enough at odds with English to be interesting. HAL-le-lu-jah, stressing the first syllable rather than the more usual third. And a kind of syncopated “forever.” For-EV-er and EV-er. And a final “H-a-l-l-e-l-u-j-a-h,” the musical equivalent of a long, full exhale. The performance was a resounding success. “The whole is beyond anything I had a notion of till I Read and heard it.” “Sublime, grand, and tender;” “conspired to charm the ravished Heart and Ear,” were among the reported reactions. And the proceeds raised 1,223 pounds for various good works and allowed 142 debtors to be released from local jails.
Handel returned to England where the “Messiah” had its London premier in 1743. It met with success but not with the wild enthusiasm of the Dublin performance perhaps, King says, because so much else was going on at the time. Subsequent years and performances would bring more acclaim. Coram, whose efforts to establish an exemplary community in Georgia had not produced the expected results, turned his attention to establishing a foundling hospital. It opened with the announcement of a new concert by Handel, including the full “sacred oratorio.” Thousands pushed and elbowed to get inside the hospital’s chapel, so many that Handel agreed to another performance the next day. The minutes of the Board of Governors recorded that Handel joined their number as a Foundling Hospital trustee. In subsequent years the expected annual performance of the “Messiah” became one of the most anticipated events of the London season. It seems fitting that two of the greatest successes of the “Messiah’s” performances were for the benefit of charities. King sums up the effect of the “Messiah” by writing, ““The Messiah is a work of anguish and promise, of profound worry and resounding joy, all expressed in ingenious, irresistible melodies. It moved audiences then, and even the most the most secular of listeners are moved today."
A few years before his death in 1759, Handel went totally blind. He started attending prayer services twice a day at a church near where he lived and pulled back on swearing for which he had a particular gift. He updated his will, leaving generous sums to relatives, friends, and the Fund for Decay’d Musicians, which he founded. The organization still exists today under the name of the Royal Society of Musicians.
So what of Jennens who apparently got no credit for his part in the composition of the “Messiah.” He never wanted any. And what else of Handel? He was described as generous, tolerant, witty, and indulgent but would yell at musicians who weren’t performing up to his expectations and for all of his life, listeners would joke about the vee’s and dat’s of his German accent. He is supposed to have told a noble patron, “My Lord . . . I should be sorry if I only entertained [an audience]; I wished to make them become better.”
It seems no stretch to say that Handel more than lived up to those expectations. And what of King, did he live up to expectations in this book? Not wholly to mine, by reason of all of his meandering and inclusion of irrelevant (to me) detail, but because I love Handel, I’m rounding up my 3-1/2* to 4*.
Handel, born in Halle, Germany in 1685, came to England at the age of twenty-five, having already received acclaim in Italy where he became conversant in Italian opera, which just happened to be all the rage in England at the time he arrived. Most of Handel’s time in England was during the reign of George I and George II and, before them, the last years of Queen Anne’s reign. He composed pieces for her which she liked well enough to make him one of her royal musicians and awarded him an annual pension that was continued through the reigns of George I and George II. Some of his most notable pieces honored the Hanover kings: “Water Music” for George I, “Music for the Royal Fireworks” for George II, and “Zadok the Priest” for George II’s Coronation, which has been played for every British coronation since, including Charles III’s. So, although Handel was sometimes less than wealthy, he was never poor. And apparently he had extravagant tastes, especially in food and wine.
King writes about the artistic, social and political events of this age with a very big cast of characters, meandering through notables known and several unknowns many, or most, of whom didn’t directly impact Handel but tell us about the age in which he composed his music. It was an expansive era and an era often known as the Age of Enlightenment. But not the way we usually think of it. King describes the Age this way:
“The Enlightenment as most people actually experienced it had fewer wigs and masked balls than we might imagine today, and far more pain and muddling through.… The truly pressing theme in their art, music, theater, philosophy, and theology was not, in fact, the triumph of rationality. It was instead how to manage catastrophe.”
He picks up this theme especially when, near the end of his book, he comes to the making of the “Messiah.” But before we get there we’re taken through the royal successions, including the pretenders to the throne; various wars; slavery and the story of one named slave who seems very tangential to the narrative; attempts to establish a new colony in North America that would be peopled not with plantation owners but with craftsmen, small landowners, and incarcerated debtors who wished to start a new life overseas. It was to be called Georgia, in honor of George II, who granted a charter for this new colony. (Who knew that’s how Georgia got its name?) At any rate, the prime mover behind this new settlement was a man named Thomas Coram who does, later, tie into Handel’s story. And there’s also a long (unnecessarily long) story about a singer, actress, woman-of-ill repute, Susannah Cibber, who also gets connected to Handel. And Jennens, a wealthy country squire, an anxious depressive who had but two passions: music and God. He, we learn, supplied the text for the Messiah.
On the literary front, Dafoe, Pope and Swift are discussed. Dafoe and Pope rather briefly and Swift in greater length. People who knew Swift, King writes, probably also knew Handel,
“and the two men were sometimes described as versions of the same personality: witty to excess, sarcastic, talented at making ordinary things seem strange and new, and ‘able to throw persons and things into very ridiculous attitudes’.”
Swift’s satire offended many powerful groups and to keep them at bay, Swift’s supporters persuaded Queen Anne to appoint him to a senior religious position, which she did not long before her death. The appointment, however, was in Ireland, not in England, and so he became the Dean of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin. People attended his services, King tells us, just to hear what outranges he might deliver in his sermons. Among his duties as Dean was the job of managing the choristers. He disliked music. “I would not give a farthing for all the music in the universe,” he reportedly told a parishioner. And that’s how he ties in to Handel.
Handel made his first and only trip to Ireland at the invitation of the Duke of Devonshire who hoped the opportunity of hearing the great master perform outside of London would lift Irish spirits in the face of crop failure. It so happened it was also a slow season for Handel in London, so he accepted the invitation to do a series of concerts. His first series of concerts went well but, in the middle of them, the increasingly irascible Swift decided his choristers could not participate. A series of negotiations allowed them to continue, but the trouble was far from over. A second series had been announced with an unspecified program. The Easter season was approaching and Handel had the new music he had composed for Jennens’ scripture collection. He needed soloists and a large assembly of choristers. He scrambled to find them.
It so happened that Susannah Cibber had fled to Ireland and was performing there. She had been made infamous in London because of her liaison with a married man and been jailed after lawsuits brought by her husband. Handel had used her in performances occasionally in London. She had a thin voice, a narrow range, and couldn’t read music; but she inhabited every song she sung and every role she played. Somehow she was spellbinding. She accepted Handel’s invitation to be in his new composition. Since she couldn’t read music, Handel would have had to teach her every part she would sing. As to the choristers, Swift had once again decreed they couldn’t participate. He would relent and then he would renege. Everyone, King writes, from public officials, friends, the general public tried to get Swift to change his mind. He almost prevented the first audition of the Messiah’s performance, but at some point Swift changed his mind, persuaded, King thinks, by the announcement that the proceeds from Handel’s new work would be used for such worthy causes as paying off the debts of incarcerated paupers.
“The Messiah” would be performed. It was as patched together a company as Handel had ever assembled – the notorious Cibber, a German soprano, two amalgamated church choirs, and the equivalent of an army band – tasked with performing a collection of sacred scriptures, with no plot, all of it set to the conventions of Italian opera. Jennens had tied together quotes from Isaiah, the story of the Nativity and the Passion and the Resurrection: essentially the Christian narrative. It opened to a packed house. King takes us through the ups and downs of the scripture passages which Jennens had selected and how Handel’s music tied them together but, most tellingly, how Cibber’s own well-known predicament seemed to echo what Isaiah had written – despised, rejected, a man/woman of sorrows, acquainted with grief. An account of that first performance places the chancellor of Christ’s church in the audience. After Cibber finished the last word of her aria, he reportedly proclaimed from his seat, “Woman, for this be all thy sins forgiven.” Among Handel’s music innovations, King describes what has become familiar to us: for “Hallelujah” and “forever,” Handel applied rhythms just enough at odds with English to be interesting. HAL-le-lu-jah, stressing the first syllable rather than the more usual third. And a kind of syncopated “forever.” For-EV-er and EV-er. And a final “H-a-l-l-e-l-u-j-a-h,” the musical equivalent of a long, full exhale. The performance was a resounding success. “The whole is beyond anything I had a notion of till I Read and heard it.” “Sublime, grand, and tender;” “conspired to charm the ravished Heart and Ear,” were among the reported reactions. And the proceeds raised 1,223 pounds for various good works and allowed 142 debtors to be released from local jails.
Handel returned to England where the “Messiah” had its London premier in 1743. It met with success but not with the wild enthusiasm of the Dublin performance perhaps, King says, because so much else was going on at the time. Subsequent years and performances would bring more acclaim. Coram, whose efforts to establish an exemplary community in Georgia had not produced the expected results, turned his attention to establishing a foundling hospital. It opened with the announcement of a new concert by Handel, including the full “sacred oratorio.” Thousands pushed and elbowed to get inside the hospital’s chapel, so many that Handel agreed to another performance the next day. The minutes of the Board of Governors recorded that Handel joined their number as a Foundling Hospital trustee. In subsequent years the expected annual performance of the “Messiah” became one of the most anticipated events of the London season. It seems fitting that two of the greatest successes of the “Messiah’s” performances were for the benefit of charities. King sums up the effect of the “Messiah” by writing, ““The Messiah is a work of anguish and promise, of profound worry and resounding joy, all expressed in ingenious, irresistible melodies. It moved audiences then, and even the most the most secular of listeners are moved today."
A few years before his death in 1759, Handel went totally blind. He started attending prayer services twice a day at a church near where he lived and pulled back on swearing for which he had a particular gift. He updated his will, leaving generous sums to relatives, friends, and the Fund for Decay’d Musicians, which he founded. The organization still exists today under the name of the Royal Society of Musicians.
So what of Jennens who apparently got no credit for his part in the composition of the “Messiah.” He never wanted any. And what else of Handel? He was described as generous, tolerant, witty, and indulgent but would yell at musicians who weren’t performing up to his expectations and for all of his life, listeners would joke about the vee’s and dat’s of his German accent. He is supposed to have told a noble patron, “My Lord . . . I should be sorry if I only entertained [an audience]; I wished to make them become better.”
It seems no stretch to say that Handel more than lived up to those expectations. And what of King, did he live up to expectations in this book? Not wholly to mine, by reason of all of his meandering and inclusion of irrelevant (to me) detail, but because I love Handel, I’m rounding up my 3-1/2* to 4*.
February 28, 2025
Not sure all the threads come together as tightly as one might hope, but good nonetheless.
January 30, 2025
The first time I heard "The Messiah," I was in college; it was performed at one of the premier churches in Lincoln, NE, for acoustics. I was in the balcony, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose up and I started to cry as I stood for the "Hallelujah Chorus." I have a CD of it which I sing along to on my long trips to southern Missouri to visit my mother.
Therefore, when I saw "Every Valley:..." I knew I had to read it. It was a detailed biography (49 pages of notes in the large-print edition from my library) about the court musician George Frederic Handel AND of the librettist (did anyone else know that some ELSE wrote the libretto? This shows how little I know about opera), Charles Jennens, a usually-depressed and anxious man, who has been rarely credited for his exhaustive research and stitching together so many Bible verses to create the libretto. I also appreciate that the author included a 1743 edition of the libretto, probably created for the initial London performances in 1743. ("Messiah" was first performed in Dublin in 1741, as Handel had left England to revive his career.) Mr. King also included the sordid life story of the mezzo soprano, Suzannah Cibber who first performed "Messiah," and restored her career w/ her heartfelt rendition.
Mr. King goes to great lengths to demonstrate how the early 1700's were a time of uncertainty and upheaval, just like the early 21st century has been. Now called "The Age of Enlightenment," mostly it was a time of wars and unspeakable poverty for everyone else, w/ a deeply-divided government and a foreigner as the new King. It just goes to show how history rhymes, if not outright repeats. There was a lot of information on the Jacobite rebellions, and how they were scarier for the English than portrayed in "Outlander."
Mr. King's thesis appears to be that when faced with the uncertainties and disappointments of life, rather than fleeing from them, the most radical act is hope, to KNOW that something better will come. Here a couple of quotes I found quite moving:
"'The Subject' he [Jennens] later wrote with a rare hint of excitement, ' excels every other subject.' At the heart of his work was not so much a statement of faith but a test of will -- an affirmation of something Jennens had always found hard to believe in.
It was the staggering possibility that the world might turn out all right." p 6.
"'Let us sing of greater things,' Jennens had written at the top of of the original 'Messiah' wordbook. The foundation of hope, he sensed, was not the will to look through awfulness. It was the habit of seeing clearly in the midst of it. In the face of everything life might bring, the truly radical way to forecast the future was to put an assurance up front.
Since 1742, every performance of the 'Messiah' has started with the same two words. Even today, they still sound startling and revelatory -- a proclamation, a challenge, and a deliverance all at once, a coachman's horn on a fogged-in coast road:
COMFORT YE" pp. 389-90
Wow. A message of hope. No wonder I love "Messiah" so. Rounded down to 4 stars.
Therefore, when I saw "Every Valley:..." I knew I had to read it. It was a detailed biography (49 pages of notes in the large-print edition from my library) about the court musician George Frederic Handel AND of the librettist (did anyone else know that some ELSE wrote the libretto? This shows how little I know about opera), Charles Jennens, a usually-depressed and anxious man, who has been rarely credited for his exhaustive research and stitching together so many Bible verses to create the libretto. I also appreciate that the author included a 1743 edition of the libretto, probably created for the initial London performances in 1743. ("Messiah" was first performed in Dublin in 1741, as Handel had left England to revive his career.) Mr. King also included the sordid life story of the mezzo soprano, Suzannah Cibber who first performed "Messiah," and restored her career w/ her heartfelt rendition.
Mr. King goes to great lengths to demonstrate how the early 1700's were a time of uncertainty and upheaval, just like the early 21st century has been. Now called "The Age of Enlightenment," mostly it was a time of wars and unspeakable poverty for everyone else, w/ a deeply-divided government and a foreigner as the new King. It just goes to show how history rhymes, if not outright repeats. There was a lot of information on the Jacobite rebellions, and how they were scarier for the English than portrayed in "Outlander."
Mr. King's thesis appears to be that when faced with the uncertainties and disappointments of life, rather than fleeing from them, the most radical act is hope, to KNOW that something better will come. Here a couple of quotes I found quite moving:
"'The Subject' he [Jennens] later wrote with a rare hint of excitement, ' excels every other subject.' At the heart of his work was not so much a statement of faith but a test of will -- an affirmation of something Jennens had always found hard to believe in.
It was the staggering possibility that the world might turn out all right." p 6.
"'Let us sing of greater things,' Jennens had written at the top of of the original 'Messiah' wordbook. The foundation of hope, he sensed, was not the will to look through awfulness. It was the habit of seeing clearly in the midst of it. In the face of everything life might bring, the truly radical way to forecast the future was to put an assurance up front.
Since 1742, every performance of the 'Messiah' has started with the same two words. Even today, they still sound startling and revelatory -- a proclamation, a challenge, and a deliverance all at once, a coachman's horn on a fogged-in coast road:
COMFORT YE" pp. 389-90
Wow. A message of hope. No wonder I love "Messiah" so. Rounded down to 4 stars.
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