Why didn’t Brahms write books?

It’s time I revealed something to you, dear reader, and I hope you won’t be shocked- I love Classical Music.  I particularly love romantic era composers.  I just can’t help myself.  I love the intensity the volatility and the lyrical quality of the compositions- it fills me and, most importantly, it moves me.  My heart, for those few moments of listening to it, supersedes all and entrenches me into my deepest, darkest and most passionate of spaces.  I would like to take this moment to share with you a couple of my favorite pieces.  They’re both by Brahms because, well, it was through learning his pieces which actually caused me to have a deep and abiding love for a classical artist for perhaps the first time in my life.

What I think is most important to note about Brahms’ style is this:  It wasn’t over the top.  It wasn’t shmaltzy or saccharine like.  The sweetest melody, as in the Intermezzo in A (the second vid) speaks of a rich sentiment which goes beyond the happy feeling of the intro, in places it reaches and has profound longing in it, but it doesn’t have a superficial hook like quality to it.

I like books like that.  I like those authors who can reach inside me, grab an organ, squeeze and all without shmaltz or cheap hooks.  They do this through careful crafting of words, characters and story structure.  They convey genuine emotion in a way which can promote visceral responses without having the intent of doing so.  It’s just the story.

What, as a reader, annoys you most in a book?  What do you enjoy?

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