In Honor of Mozart's Birthday, January 27th, the BWL Blurbathon brings
My Mozart by Juliet Waldron from BWLPP
Mozart was her teacher, her mentor, her rescuer, and, finally,
fatally, her lover."
"Mozart, Ich liebe dich. I love you. Love you."
"Come here, Nanina Nightingale. Come and give your poor old Maestro some
of your `specially sugary sugar."
My mouth on hisâ`â`the friction produced warmth and sweetness,
with a decided undertone of the expensive brandy he liked, flowing from
his tongue to mine. I slid my arms across the brocade of his jacket,
none too clean these days, and swayed a slender dancer's body against
Let me assure you that my sophistication was assumed. It really doesn't
matter - then, or now. I was young, foolish, and drowning in love. I was
seventeen. He was thirty five.
He had once been boyishly agile, doing handsprings over chairs, turning
cartwheels of joy at a prima donna's kiss or a perfect performance
of his own celestial music. He was never tall, and was, like most men of
his age, working on a bit of a belly. Still, he kept more or less in
shape by a daily regimen which included running from bailiffs, dashing
out the back doors of taverns to avoid payment, and climbing in and out
of the bedroom windows of adventurous (and talented) musical
I believed he knew everything--that he could see right through me with
those bright blue eyes. He probably could. He'd been my music
master--and, more--my deity, ever since I'd met him, in my ninth year.
His jacket, now spotted and stained, must have been fine enough to wear
in the presence of the Emperor. Bright blue, it perfectly matched his
eyes. I can still feel the fabric sliding under my fingers as my arms
passed over his shoulders and around his neck.
I can still see himâ`â`a woolly frizz of blonde hair, long,
aquiline nose--a ram that had once been an angel. Sometimes, when he was
loving me in some exquisitely naughty way and joyfully smiling as he did
it, I could almost see horns
Buy My Mozart at:
Mozartby Juliet Waldron, from Books We Love Publishing
was her teacher, her mentor, her rescuer--and, finally, fatally, her lover. ..
dawn, in the marble palace of a Prince, a nine-year-old sings for Wolfgang
Amadeus Mozart, then at the peak of his career. Always delighted by musical
children, he accepts Nanina as a pupil. Gifted, intense and imaginative, she
sees the great "Kapellmeister Mozart" as an avatar of Orpheus and her
own, personal divinity.
His lessons are irregular and playful, but the teacher/pupil bond grows strong.
Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro premieres, and Nanina, now twelve, is given a
solo part. For her, this is the beginning of a long stage career. For Mozart,
it marks the start of his ruin. His greatest works will be composed in poverty
During the composer's last summer, his wife has left him. Chronically in debt
and suffering the emotional isolation of genius, he takes refuge with his
disreputable Volksoper friends, who want him to write a "peasant opera"
for their audience. Nanina, now grown, and still in love with Mozart, is among
their number. As he seeks solace among the women of the Volksoper, the charms
of his young fan become increasingly alluring. No one, least of all the
composer, understands the depth of her obsession or how a brief affair will
permanently alter her life.
"This really knocked my socks off,
and so you don't have to know the opera or Mozart's music to love this book."
"The brilliance of the plot is that it is timeless ... Teenage fan falls
in love, has a brief love affair with her idol...The characters are as real as
today, once again underscoring the fact that people, after all, never change in
motives or behavior, only in time." Patricia A. Martin
My Mozart at: