Essential
There’s a lot to be said for a good short history: it can bring out the main figures, and the main lines of development, more clearly than a detailed one. It’s hard to imagine the job being done more effectively for classical music than it is here. Firstly it’s a proper story. History should be a story, not merely comments and details: the clue’s in the name. It develops composer by composer, which I think is the right way to go about it; individual works can only really be understood as part of an oeuvre, and the influence of individuals is more significant than that of ideas. Einstein admires all the people you would want him to admire, not just because you’re supposed to but because they’re the best; he doesn’t disparage Mozart because he’s not Beethoven, or Handel because he’s not Bach; and unlike some books on music, his deep love of all their work is unmistakeable (he’s not one of those historians who mistake a lack of engagement with their subject for objectivity).
He was German, and the book is from a German perspective; he always refers to his own country even when there’s nothing much to say about it, and he says more about Germany’s composers than anybody else’s. But I think any music history would have to do that; and he does justice to France and Italy, the other main centres of Western music, and also to England which (as not many people realise) first developed it. Maybe the Russians don’t get enough of a look-in; and sorry folks, but – in spite of this being an ‘American edition’ – America hardly gets a mention. And nor should it.
Einstein sees the disintegration into subjectivity and atonalism which was far gone even in his time; possibly he doesn’t recognise that its origins go back even as far as Beethoven. It’s a serious reflection on classical music that, though this book was first published in 1936, all the people you would want someone to learn about when approaching classical music for the first time are here. Who has come along since then, that will still be known and revered in two hundred years as Mozart and Beethoven are now – or even in a hundred? Music has become detached from its public. Of course it has never been popular enough to pay its own way, has always been dependent on rich patrons; but now the only alternatives seem to be film music, overly-populist and usually of little intrinsic value, or composers – funded by Arts bodies – indulging their private technical schemas which have no appeal to the ear and so cannot spread or last. The only hope the author sees is for a renewed encounter with tradition, which I suppose means a return to basics. Indeed this is the only possible way out of the cul-de-sac into which music has wandered, but I don’t see any sign of it happening.
A couple of caveats: Einstein is clear in his introduction that the book isn’t for those who know nothing about music, because it could mean nothing to them. Despite what is often said by those who find it too much like hard work, it is possible to write usefully, or read rewardingly, about music, but you have to do a lot of listening first so that you can recognise what the writing is about. And the book is shorter even than it appears, because there are no fewer than 150 pages of musical examples. This, nowadays, is unnecessary bulk; any new edition should just refer us to YouTube.