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Tolstoy on Music.

asymptomatically “They played Beethoven’s Kreutzer Sonata,” he continued.  “Do you know the first presto?  You do?” he cried.  “Ugh!  Ugh!  It is a terrible thing, that sonata.  And especially that part.  And in general music is a dreadful thing.  What is it?  I don’t understand it.  What is music?  What does it do?  And why does it do what it does?  They say music exalts the soul.  Nonsense, it is not true!  It has an effect, an awful effect – I am speaking of myself – but not of an exalting kind.  It has neither an exalting nor a debasing effect but it produces agitation.  How can I put it?  Music makes me forget myself, my real position; it transports me to some other position not my own.  Under the influence of music it seems to me that I feel what I do not really feel, that I understand what I do not understand, that I can do what I cannot do.  I explain it by the fact that music acts like yawning, like laughter: I am not sleepy, but I yawn when I see someone yawning; there is nothing for me to laugh at, but I laugh when I hear people laughing.

http://cjni.com/about-cj-n.html “Music carries me immediately and directly into the mental condition in which the man was who composed it.  My soul merges with his and together with him I pass from one condition into another, but why this happens I don’t know.  You see, he who wrote, let us say, the Kreutzer Sonata – Beethoven – knew of course why he was in that condition; that condition caused him to do certain actions and therefore that condition had a meaning for him, but for me – none at all.  That is why music only agitates and doesn’t lead to a conclusion.  Well, when a military march is played the soldiers march to the music and the music has achieved its object.  A dance is played, I dance and the music has achieved its object.  Mass has been sung, I receive communion, and that music too has reached a conclusion.  Otherwise it is only agitating, and what ought to be done in that agitation is lacking.  That is why music sometimes acts so dreadfully, so terribly.  In China, music is a State affair.  And that is as it should be.  How can one allow anyone who pleases to hypnotize another, or many others, and do what he likes with them?  And especially that this hypnotist should be the first immoral man who turns up?  It is a terrible instrument in the hands of any chance user!  Take that Kreutzer Sonata, for instance, how can that first presto be played in a drawing room among ladies in low-necked dresses?” (219-220)

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