This book initiates "the first critical appraisal of the whole of Western tonal consciousness, from the discoveries of Pythagoras to the latest popular song." While tonality has been unwittingly championed as the product of the bourgeois age in Europe and America from 1600 to 1900, Norton states, key-centered music is understood here merely to exhibit components of an encompassing sonic expressivity as durable as any language. The author analyzes fundamental components of Western tonal phenomena that have persisted in music from ancient Jewish cantillation to the so-called atonal procedures of the Schoenberg school and beyond. Norton isolates the role of traditional music theory in the creation of models that attempted to explain tonality solely in terms of the concretized and limited objectivity of the musical score. The author evaluates and discards those features of logical positivism, scientific empiricism, idealism, and vitalism that in his view have encumbered virtually all speculation on tonality. With this negation, his aim is to restore the composer as a creator subject to his own sonic object. The book's approach is particularly indebted to the thought of Theodor Adorno, the member of the Frankfurt School of critical theorists that Norton finds most capable of suggesting an authentic dialectic of tonality. The author interprets the activities of both theorists and composers from various periods within the context of their mutual and conflicting historical interests. Ranging through the fields of physics, acoustics, psychology, sociology, economics, and historical musicology and criticism, Norton demonstrates that the cognitive abilities and disabilities of humans as tonal hearers form a necessary ground for understanding the remarkable vitality of tonality as historical process. Current theories of human tonal activity are hopelessly limited, the book concludes, however self-preserving they have become through the sanction of academic respectability. In short, tonal science, as it is commonly practiced, is not tonal truth. In its place the author urges a thoroughgoing critique of the language and methodology of contemporary tonal speculation, an abandonment of its confining sphere of interest, and a new and liberating approach to tonal consciousness that incorporates all relevant data of human sonic cognition. This approach assumes that tonality is not merely the result of the physical unfolding of natural appearance—the overtone series that so enchanted Rameau, Schenker, Hindemith, and others—and the submission of composers to its assumed authority. Tonality is, rather, Norton contends, a decision made against the chaos of pitch and for the human potential to create works of music that speak with integrity and beauty, that as aesthetic creations neither lag behind nor rush ahead of human enjoyment and understanding.
Norton's book is a strong overview, cum critique, of the Western history of tonality as understood by musicology today. One word to describe it is "polemic": but sometimes it plays out like a scholarly introduction to a subject. Both are fine by me; but sometimes it seems the author doesn't seem to be able to decide whether to accept the traditional viewpoints of musicological analysis or not, and in consequence some sections are more self-reflective and self-critical than others.
The methodology of the book follows a pseudo-Hegelian-Adornoan thematic of looking at things dialectically (in a history of evolving concepts and "anti-thetical" positions), and from the perspective of an alienated subject (the composer/music listener) lost in a world of sound of its own (objectivised) creation (the music work). The book aims to reconcile the subject to its object. This is an interesting touch, and the focus on expanding the notion of tonality to encompass pre-1600 musical practices and post-Schoenbergian inventions as well really makes for an interesting, polemical approach to looking at key-centered common practice era tonality that modern musicology takes for granted. Instead of a clear progression or a natural necessity towards full chromatism and free tonality (to be short: Wagner and Schoenberg), Norton argues for certain human universals that are eternal but also take an infinite variety of forms (scales, tunings and tonal expressions). This contrasts with the boringly progressive view of music history as a sequence from the earlier (lower) to the later (higher), corresponding to the unfolding of the circle of fifths and the overtone series and other natural orders. This history, which is supposed to unfold in an ever-expanding series of stages to ever higher and freer forms of musical expression, is tacitly accepted by the followers of Schenker, Rameau, Schoenberg and others. It is this view that Norton criticises with his thesis that, instead of a universal truth of natural reason, "tonality is a decision made against the chaos of pitch" (p.4).
Aside from treating the history of Western art music, there are a few (mercifully sparse) words given to "popular" music, but these sections are not very illuminating, since they exemplify the typical Adornoan contempt of the masses that is neither fair nor interesting, because shrouded in half-hearted anti-capitalist rhetoric combined with an ignorance of popular musical forms. Luckily the book focuses on the canon of Western "serious" music and does its main work in the area that it knows best. I could expand my criticism of his treatment of popular culture (and his ludicrous portrayal of Jimi Hendrix as a sex-crazed, musically illiterate corporate puppet with the mind of a "child"), but I will simply dismis them here as knee-jerk Adornoisms and focus on the main parts of the book.
Overall, this book is pretty lengthy and meandering, and throughout its many sidepaths it provides many interesting vistas. Its two main strands - of historical overview and scholarly polemicism - are, both of them, interesting enough (if not consistently synthesized) to carry the book despite the uneven chapter composition and longwinded, side-tracking (never quite progressing to a big finale) skeletal structure. Read the first 50-60 pages of the book and you will have learned most this book can teach you: the first couple of chapters are a microcosm of the main thesis, and might suffice for a casual reader. The rest of the chapters apply this theory to different historical periods, and with uneven consistency: some chapters are simply better than others. But the book flows pretty smoothly, and it proceeds chronologically, so I can recommend reading the whole book for serious music lovers, even if it's not a theoretical heavyweight. Think of it as a passionate, multi-tentacled polemical monster that is fun to hang around with!
So, despite its shortcomings and lack of focus or (permit me this one pun) satistfactory cadential resolution, the book contains a few easily digestible seeds of wisdom, a few wild ideas that run contrary to established musicological wisdom, in the form of a surprisingly traditional, even non-adventurous academic book that contains lots of bread-and-butter musicology and a surprisingly matter-of-fact - even conservative - view on music history as a sequence of high styles and periods. The dialectical nature of the book is part radical, part entrenched musicology, but the mix of these two makes for a good, semi-light read. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it's not a major theoretical work, but it's a pretty interesting book about accepted wisdom, the entrenched dogmas of normative musicology, and the liberating depth of human practices and potential. The book sleeps with Pythagoras for a chapter, Henze for a half, and with Hegel and Adorno for its full duration, but the polyamorous, leaping progression leaves the reader feeling titillated and pretty convinced, if not definitely converted to, the idea that human tonality far exceeds the bounds of the common practice period (ca. 1600-1900) and relates, in every age, to human psychology and social factors.
The "chaos of pitch" that the author talks about is the ultimate, never-ending potential of tonality in music. We should separate the "ought" from the "is" and to say that nothing is necessary, natural or true in music except the fact of its existing in ways that it does.