Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer #133: Fame and Simplicity: What Debussy Wrote for the Guitar

Ernest Hemingway’s famous advice is “write one story about each thing you know.” I have done him better on this because I’ve written dozens of stories about music and musicians. I’ve played guitar since I was a teenager and have performed with bands, in bars, folk clubs, and festivals; I’ve played in musicals (Fiddler on the Roof, Sound of Music, Man of LaMancha, just to name a few); even today I play weekly at various Celtic jams. I love to play and love to write about people whose lives are caught up with playing music. “What Debussy Wrote for Guitar” is one of the many tales I’ve written that center around music. But this one is a little different. It explores a musical story—or legend.

If you know much about French impressionist music, you can easily answer the question, What did Debussy write for the guitar? Answer:  Nothing. The guitar was starting to be recognized as a legitimate instrument that could play complicated classical music. Several guitarists were working to demonstrate the instrument’s possibilities. Francois Tarrega amazed people with his abilities on the fretboard; Napoleon Coste played in Paris; Dionisio Agaudo was an Italian guitar master of considerable ability. And then there was Miguel Llobet. But we will get to him later. Now a little bit on the story.

Peyton is a music student. One night at a coffee bar, he hears his friend Tito Salinas, who is from Ecuador, play what he describes as some “new pieces of music.” He is convinced by the configurations of the music that it is by Debussy. He also knows Tito is somehow related to the late guitarist Miguel Llobet.   

Artist's sketch of Miguel Llobet

Llobet had made his name as a guitarist in the late 1800s. He toured Europe and spent some time living, performing, and teaching in Paris. Claude Debussy, who was at the height of his powers as a composure and the undisputed master leader of the Paris music scene, heard Llobet perform, approached him after the concert and said, “Why don’t you come to my house for dinner some night; afterwards, you can show me what the guitar can do.” But Llobet was shy and Debussy had the reputation of being very gruff. He was afraid to follow up on the invitation and never went to be Debussy’s guest. Guitarists lament:  If he had gone and demonstrated the guitar’s musical possibilities to Debussy, the composer might have written some pieces for the instrument. Llobet never went. Debussy never wrote anything for guitar.

Or did he?

Peyton is convinced he did. He goes to Caroline, another guitar student, one with much greater ability than he. The two have dated on and off, and she also knows Tito. Peyton urges her to ask him about the compositions. If Tito released them, Payton says, his career would be made. Caroline tells him their mutual friend is planning to return to Ecuador to get married. Peyton thinks Tito doesn’t know the value of the compositions and urges her to try to get him to give them to her.  They spend the night together. In the morning, they talk more about the matter:

When Peyton woke in the morning he heard her in the kitchen two floors down. He smelled bacon cooking. Peyton dressed and groggily descended. She had dressed and stood at the stove. “I’m not sure I want to go through with this,” she said as he sat at the table and poured a cup of coffee.

“Can you think of an alternative way of getting the music?”

“How about asking him? Let him know he’s in possession of some valuable works of art and let him take it from there.”

                        “You’ll lose the opportunity.”

                        She went on cooking bacon and did not reply.

Caroline asks about the music. To Peyton’s astonishment, he says that he knows what the music is, that it is valuable, and that it will make his career. Then he gives it to her. They even go to a notary public, sign a contract officially transferring ownership of the music to Caroline, and have it notarized. He hands the scores over to her to do with as she pleases.

Peyton is astonished and wants to find out why Tito is willing to give the scores away. He is vague and tells them both, at different times, that he wants to return to South America, marry, and live a simple life. He leaves. His wife answers Caroline’s letters. After a while the letters are returned with “Address Unknown” stamped on them.

Peyton and Caroline take the music to a musicologist. He does some testing, finds out the paper is the sort of paper used in Paris in Debussy’s time. Handwriting experts examine the signature and conclude that it is authentic. The pieces are genuine. They are written by Debussy. Tito, for whatever reason, has given away hand-written manuscripts Llobet passed on to his relatives which he—Tito—eventually ended up in owning.

Caroline receives offers of up to a million dollars for them from music publishers. She negotiates to premier the pieces in Paris. Classical guitar magazines interview her. Owning the music, Peyton sees, will make her career. She asks him to go to Paris with her for the concert, partially because he speaks French, partially because they are in a relationship that is deepening. As he sits in the audience and watches her play, he wonders at Tito’s choice and at his decision for a simple life in contrast to a life of fame as a guitarist who has made a profound musical discover.

Maybe Tito is just as shy as his ancestor. And maybe just as free.

"What Debussy Wrote for the Guitar" appeared in Bangalore Review, an Indian journal; it was reprinted in Blue Bear Review. Blue Bear Review maintains and archive and you can read the story here.

Read my latest novella, Sinfonia:  A Painted Lady. Here is the web address.

Happy reading.

Dave’s Anatomy: My History as a Writer, #129: Elves are Nasty Creatures: “Straight on Till Morning.”

My last two blogs talked about stories I have written that were odd, strange, weird, bizarre. The one I will talk about today is a little more tame—well, sort of. It was a fantasy story with a paranormal, supernatural element, but at least it followed the usual format and satisfied the standard expectations such a story raises. “Straight on Till Morning” is the story of a woman who is abducted by elves and about her husband, who journeys to elven territory in order to find her and bring her back. 

In Celtic lore, elves are not diminutive creatures with pointed ears who sit around on toadstools and are cute and lovable. They are just the opposite. They are rapacious, nasty, and dangerous—and, they possess magical powers to facilitate their being rapacious, nasty and dangerous. The idea for this story partially came from one of the best horror/supernatural stories I have read, Graham Joyce’s Some Kind of Fairy Tale, a novel that presents elves as they are traditionally understood by the ancient peoples of the British isles. They are dangerous. They abduct and enslave humans. To free someone they have abducted you have to be as tricky and ruthless and they are. 

Anisa

Chauncy’s girlfriend, Anisa, a rising star who performs Celtic music, disappears. Shortly after that, he hears a musician he himself has done music with, Sossity Chandler, state her belief in the supernatural. They talk and she suggests Anisa has been abducted by the “fairy folk”—elves. They search the area where she disappeared and find evidence for this. She suggests he sleep in the fairy ring they find (a fairy ring is a ring of grass that can serve as a portal to the world of elves). He does, bringing a guitar and supplies and, when he wakes up, finds himself that world. He immediately sees Anisa. 

She has sensed him (living in eleven land she has already accrued small magical powers) and chides him for coming and tells him the elf who abducted her and now claims to own her and will also sense Chauncey is there. Sure enough, the elven man who abducted he--Sutton--shows up. He and Chauncy argue. He says he will murder Chancey, who calls him a coward to harm an unarmed man. The elf challenges him to a dual. 

O'Carolan

The other elves welcome Chauncey and arrange the duel. While he is there he learns more about the elven culture and meets someone he venerates, Turlough O'Carolan. O’Carolan was an Irish harper from the late fifteenth century whose music has survived and is widely performed today. (I am a musician and have performed many of the tunes he wrote.) Chauncey hears him play and learns he was abducted just before his death and brought to eleven land. He tells O’Carolan about his upcoming duel with Sutton and his plan to win it. The harper is amazed at his plan but tells him it just might succeed; and, he says, when he plays for the Council tomorrow morning, he will put in a good word for Chauncy.

The eleven Council meets to set up the terms of the dual. Chauncey is given choice of weapons. 

The following exchange takes place. As Chauncey is the challenged party, choice of weapon is his. 
            “What weapon do you chose?”

“Guitar,” he said.

The Leader of the Council and everyone else in the room, including Anisa, gaped. The Leader leaned forward.

“I’m not certain I understand you, young man.”

“Guitar is a musical instrument. I am challenging Sutton to a duel of music, not conventional weaponry.”

The Leader’s face showed a mixture of caution, puzzlement, and censure. “This is most unusual,” she said.

“Music is the weapon I chose.”

“This has no precedent, but I am intrigued,” a Council member who wore a funny-looked Renaissance hat said. Chauncey remembered Carolan’s promise to speak to the Council. Perhaps this man was one of Sutton’s enemies. “I can’t recall that such weaponry is forbidden.”

The Leader made to speak, but another Council member—another woman—beat her to the punch.

“Our laws say the weapon be ‘a thing in the use of which a noble is trained.’ All our nobility must learn music of some sort.”

The Council withdraws, debates the lawfulness of music as a weapon but decides Chauncey’s request is valid.

Chauncey is confident of victory, but Anisa tells him not to be too self-assured. The elven nobles, she says, are trained in music from childhood. And the people of the Council like the kind of music Sutton will most likely do.

When the duel begins, Sutton sings and his performance is well-received. Chauncey plays guitar, performing songs by O’Carolan. The judges are stunned by the beauty of his music and declares him winner of the duel.

Sutton is now at his mercy. At the Council’s behest, the demands all of his opponent’s land and money. He also calls upon an elven woman he has come to know in his short stay there that she promised to grant him a “boon.” She says she did and he can have anything he wants. He asks for her slave girl Kelly, who had helped him on different occasions. The woman willingly grants his request. He gives Kelly all of Sutton’s money and then gives her as a bride to Raymond, a human who was kidnapped by the elves and has decided to stay in their land. Sutton, he is told, will be punished for his illegal abduction of Anisa. They depart elven land and find themselves in a theater in New York City where Sossity Chandler is performing. She greets them and promises to arrange for their return to Ireland.

“Straight on Till Morning” appeared in Fiction on the Web. Read it here.

For more good fantasy and paranormal, check out my novella, The Court of the Sovereign King.

Happy Reading.

Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer #116. Love and Silence: "The Space Between."

Ongoing characters find their way into literature now and then. Mark Twain created Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Both characters appeared in the sequel, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Not many people know that he wrote two novels, Tom Sawyer Abroad and Tom Sawyer, Detective. Ian Fleming wrote fifteen novels about the now-icon figure of James Bond. W. Somerset Maugham wrote several short stories and a couple of novels featuring his ongoing character, William Ashenden. One of my ongoing characters, Sossity Chandler, has thirty-six published stories to her credit. An ongoing character about whom I wrote less, Martin Rollins, is the main character of the story for this blog, "The Space Between." 

Martin did not get as much space as Sossity. He appeared, though, in my first published story, "The Girl Who Knew Nick Drake," and in my first published novella, The Gallery; he is the main character in a few other stories, and in the "The Space Between."  Martin is a musician, a guitarist, not spectacularly famous, but with a solid fan base, a good reputation, and loyal fans. He easily makes a living as a musician.  In "The Space Between," he meets an old flame from high school, Talia Metzger, while he out on tour.

He and Talia had been intimate. The relationship was unusual to Martin because Talia was deaf. He and she are assigned a lab partners in a high school chemistry class. They become friends. He is amazed at the way she communicates. At first, she uses notes and an iPad to talk to him; and she can speak to some degree, even though she cannot hear what she is saying. Eventually, though, Martin learns to communicate with her through gestures, expressions, and through silences. She is beautiful and athletic. They are together two years. Things are going well. Then something splits them up. That is Martin's budding career as a musician. 

Talia cannot hear his music. He knows that those who have no hearing can comprehend music, but someone Tania's inability to hear drives a wedge between them and they split up. Martin makes a name for himself as a musician; he sees articles now and then on Talia, who has married, had children, manages a chain of charter schools, and is an advocate for the deaf. He is sitting in a coffee house, angry over a bad review of a performance when he gets a text message from her. She wants to see him.

Wealthy Street Bakery, in Grand Rapids, MI

She comes to the coffee house. Once, more the flame rekindles. He knows she wants him to make love to her. They arrange a meeting. After consummation, he surveys how things have changed and have not changed. What has not changed is his love for her; nor has her love for him. What has changed is that he has built a career; she has built a life. One more thing has changed:  she apparently now can understand and comprehend his music. 

He remembers a remark he once read (he thinks it was by Isaac Stern): In music is not the black notes on the page that mattes; it is the white space between them. This quote is usually understood to mean that in music timing is everything. But his love for Talia suggests to him that in music the silences are more importance than the sounds. Silence is a way of communicating. His relationship with her has taught him as much. She silently lets him know she wants to begin their relationship again. It will be an affair. She does not want to break up the life she has built. But he learns her husband could not reach one spot in her heart. It sat like an empty room, sending tiny impulses of discord into her soul. Only he could fill that empty space. Only the love he offered to her could complete and make her spirit whole. She told him this. She told him with her body. They part understanding they will see each other from time to time when Martin tours. Talia is organized and can arrange it. The story ends with Martin and Talia lying in bed together arms around each other, speaking with silence, their words more sure than any he had known before. The story, which I classify as one the ten or twelve best I have written, appeared in August 2013 in the journal Scholars and Rogues. Read it here.

To read more stories about Martin Rollins, read "The Girl Who Knew Nick Drake."

A novella featuring Martin is (a very good one, I'll add) is The Gallery.

New novellas coming soon. Stay tuned. 

I would love to hear your comments.

Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer, #113: Songs and Self-Identity: "Out of Time"

I wrote the story "Out of Time" about my ongoing character, Sossity Chandler, a musician; and the story, like many stories about her, took the title of a song. The song was by the Rolling Stones, a band Sossity likes and frequently does their songs as covers. The character's love of their music  derives from mine. The Rolling Stones were the #2 band of the sixties, always in the shadow of the Beatles, but now that I have more musical perspective, I can see that they deserved to be recognized for their own accomplishment. The Beatles were a more creative group, but the Stones were better musicians and their blues-based approach is appealing to me, since I play the blues and perform them now and then in local venues. I, like Sossity, am a die-hard Rolling Stones fan. 

The story takes place right after her divorce. If you know Sossity's character biography, she marries, is happily married for six years, has two children, and then finds out her husband is having an affair—and not with just anyone, with Kathy Farisi, Sossity's old suite mate from college and a trusted. In another story, she explains, speaking of her husband, I find out he’s having an affair with my best friend. My best friend—my roommate from college and someone I loved like a sister. She taught where he taught. I helped her get a job there because she couldn’t find anything after she finished her graduate degree. So after all of that, the judge pretty much gives him our children half the time. She is in a sad state of mind over this and over talking to her son on the phone the previous day. Today, she is performing with her band on a talk show; the talk-show host will interview her afterwards. She is not in the mood to perform. 

While waiting for her band to join her in the lounge, she hears the talk show host and a guest discuss about how authors are often terrible readers. When they read their own books, they don't do a very good job of it. The guest points out that authors express themselves through their writing; this is the reason they are not good as readers or speakers. As she watches, Sossity realizes this is true about her—that she expresses herself through her music and, when she goes outside of those limits, finds herself at a loss. 

Her split with her husband has been devastating. She fell into binge drinking and almost died one time from alcohol poisoning; kicked the habit but then got back on the bottle, was arrested for drunk driving, spent a night in jail, and had her license suspended. Her melt-down has been trumpeted all over the internet. Stand-up comics make fun of her. She wants to lash out at her husband but her lawyers warn her that if she attacks him publicly, he might sue. She has refrained from criticizing him.  

Now, however, the dialogue on the talk show has given her an idea. She asks her band if they could do a last-minute change and rehearse a cover they had worked on yesterday. They agree, and she and her band perform the Rolling Stones number "Out of Time." The lyrics are appropriate to how she feels:

You thought I’d be your little girl
And fit into your social whirl
But you can't come back and be the first in line, oh no
You’re obsolete my baby
My poor old-fashioned baby
I said baby, baby, baby you're out of time

The song is directed at her ex-husband. When Sossity sits down with the show's host and asks her to whom the song she sang is aimed, she is evasive. "Wouldn't you like to know," she says. The woman asks if it might be to a man, whom she had known for six years. Sossity only smiles and tells her to draw her own conclusions. Sossity knows she has found a way to attack her ex-husband without fear of liability. She can do it through music. She will sing songs and never mention him by name, but, when questioned, will indirectly make it clear she is singing about him. Musicians express themselves through music. Music will be the means for her to express the hurt and pain her former husband has caused her. And she need never mention his name. 

The story appeared in Intellectual Refuge. Read it here.

Two new novellas of mine will soon be published:  Sinfonia: A Painted Lady, and The Court of the Sovereign King. More information soon.

For additional titles, see my Writer's Page.

Happy reading.

Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer #108: Imagining Song: "Suzanne"

Cover for the single of "Suzanne"

Music informs my writing. I am a musician, I play guitar, mandolin, and banjo, and I perform locally. From the onset, my writing has explored themes related to music. From one of my earliest publications, "Son of a Preacher Man" (after an old song by sixties singer Dusty Springfield) to "What Debussy Wrote for the Guitar," to my novella The Last Minstrel, music has motivated my imagination. In 2013, I got the idea for another such story, "Suzanne."

"Suzanne" became a best-selling and signature song for folk artist Judy Collins. It was written by Canadian songwriter, the late Leonard Cohen and has been recorded by more artists than any of his other songs ("Hallelujah" included). Cohen's is also a poet, and his song lyrics reach the level of poetry at times. "Suzanne" always intrigued me. It's about someone who is in love with Suzanne. She lives in a house by the sea from which you can see the Statue of Liberty; a lot of what he (I assume it's a guy narrating the song) says about her is enigmatic. They apparently have a live-in relationship. But the lyrics say, "You know that she's half-crazy, and that's why you want to be there." The chorus is enigmatic. It repeats (and is the only rhyming line in the poem), And you want to travel with her and you want to travel blind / And you think that you can trust her, for she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

The guy stays with her for some reason, something she gives him. It has some other lines that are hard to interpret. Here's another stanza of the song. Speaking of Suzanne, it says

… she shows you where to look amid the garbage and the flowers.

There are heroes in the seaweed, there are children in the morning.

They are leaning out for love and they will lean that way forever

While Suzanne holds the mirror.

I puzzled over the lyrics for years. My interpretation is that Suzanne is speaking the two middle lines. In other words, she is indeed "half-crazy," perhaps from drugs. The two lines are her half-crazy talk. But the narrator of the song stays with her for some reason. I think—again, my interpretation—that he too is so burned-out, disillusioned about life, and so rootless that he finds something appealing in Suzanne's insanity.

So the story: Sossity Chandler is filming a video beside the Ohio River. She stays behind to enjoy some privacy, goes for a walk, and runs into a girl who recognizes her and says she's a fan of her music. Sossity accepts an invitation to go into her riverside cabin. The girl has a guitar and requests a song. Sossity plays her first hit and most popular song, "Cloud Shadows." The girl, named Deidre, says she listened to her music. The song "Cloud Shadows," she says, always sends her messages and helps her read what is written in the clouds.

At that moment, her boyfriend appears. He and Sossity talk in private. He informs her that Deidre is recovering from a breakdown due to hallucinogenic drugs. She is improving, he says, noting that a year ago she was "stark, raving mad." Sossity sympathizes. When they go back inside, Deidre is painting. She is an artist of considerable skill. Sossity talks with her, says she likes her art (which is indeed remarkable) and says she would like to see her again. She feels a pang of guilt then:

Sossity felt disgusted by her words and the patronizing tone of her voice, which sounded like how she would speak to a small child. Deidra Bennett was a woman and human being, not someone to whom you must speak in slow, deliberate phrases so she could understand. “I like it a lot. Your art is beautiful. So are you. Can I come back and see you sometime?”

Consulting more with her boyfriend, she promises to get them tickets to a small concert she is doing in Philadelphia in a few months, Deidre cannot handle big crowds, her boyfriend says, but a small venue would be fine. It would help her get more in contact with the exterior world. She asks Alan, her boyfriend, what he does for a living. He replies: I take care of her. I had a job in marketing for a firm in Philly. After I met her, I left to live here. It’s a better deal than what I had. And, of course, I love her. 

The content of Cohen's song is repeated and done as a variation in my story.

Sossity leaves. Once again, her status of a celebrity singer has brought her in contact with the truths of human existence—with the drama that plays out over the word all the time but of which we witness so very little.

The story appeared in Foliate Oak. You can read it here.

For additional titles, see my Writer's Page.

I would love to hear your comments.