Martin Geck has written a good few composer biographies: Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and Wagner. In his most recent, first published in German in 2010, he turns his attention to Robert Schumann.
The author draws out some important biographical themes, not least the extent to which, from an early age, Schumann's twin literary and musical careers informed one another. In the most impressive section, Schumann's role as editor of the Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik, in its heyday one of the most influential music periodicals, is brought to vividly Romantic life. Schumann's dialogues between his fictional "friends", fiery Florestan and introverted Eusebius, along with the Zeitschrift's "League of David" dedicated to the defeat of the "Philistines", played games of identity with readers not unlike those of German Romantic poets such as Schumann's beloved Jean Paul.
The composer's marriage is treated more sensibly than is often the case, although Clara Schumann is treated with kid gloves. No mention is made of the Schumanns' rank ingratitude towards Liszt; nor does Geck deal critically with Clara's music - perhaps because, sadly, it is not intrinsically very interesting. The final years of Schumann's life and career receive surprisingly short shrift. It is almost as if Geck stands reluctant to tell the harrowing tale of psychosis and the Endenich asylum where Schumann died in 1856. Moreover, the sheer strangeness of his highly disturbing late works goes unexplored.
In general, a deeper understanding of Schumann remains elusive. One particular problem lies in the lack of any sense of place. For instance, we learn some facts about Schumann's time as a student in Leipzig, yet without a keener sense of what Leipzig, or indeed Saxony, c.1830, was like, they amount to little more than the sum of their parts. A historian of 19th-century Germany, alert to the differences between, say, Saxony and Prussia, might have had something revealing to say here. Alan Walker's compelling Liszt biography presents a model too little followed in writing on composers' lives.
Discussion of Schumann's music - which is surely why we are most interested in him - is mixed in quality. Following a striking, if brief, discussion of the piano piece Papillons and citation of Schumann's contention that he had learned more about counterpoint from Jean Paul than anyone else, comes the bizarre claim that the Marseillaise quotation in Faschingsschwank aus Wien is "almost unrecognizable". I recall it leaping out from the page at me in a childhood piano lesson - and certainly not on account of any particular acuity. Analysis, and even description, tend to be approached and veered away from, an odd state of affairs for a treatment of "life and work". Attempts at theoretical engagement - for instance, citation of Roland Barthes - seem somewhat forced and sit oddly with a generally belletrist approach. There is nothing wrong with the latter: sadly, however, Geck's lettres prove more often grises than belles.
The book's historical situation of Schumann among his peers is dubious, largely consisting in his relative elevation through swiping at others. Quite why an irrelevant and, in the worst sense, merely subjective contrast with Schoenberg, whose music "is less popular than Schumann's...[because] it is more difficult to understand", is thought necessary four pages in, I cannot imagine. Inevitably, though no less wearisomely, there comes a host of digs at Wagner. Even Beethoven has his middle-period works portrayed as one-dimensional when compared with Schumann's music. As for Geck's wildly unhistorical claims that "until Beethoven's day, composition was primarily a craft that required an adherence to traditional rules" and that "Mendelssohn and Schumann were the first musicians", not even the first composers, "to receive a proper formal education", hands must be thrown up in the air.
Robert Schumann: The Life and Work of a Romantic Composer
By Martin Geck
Translated by Stewart Spencer
University of Chicago Press
Published 3 December 2012