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.