Monday, December 19, 2011

Suburbs of Our Discontent

Suzuki School of Parental Pride

If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O! it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.
--Duke Orsino, Twelfth Night, 1.1.1-7

Duke Orsino is tortured by unrequited love. Here he's saying something like: "If music feeds this feeling of love, then maybe excessive amounts of music can make me feel so gross that my appetite for her will go away. Like if I loved hamburgers but wasn't into them anymore after I ate a hundred of them and barfed."

On the contrary, I couldn't get enough music this weekend because one of my offspring was busting out some violin awesomeness for two Suzuki concerts. There's something about my kid playing the violin that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Like, I can be smug for a brief moment or two before something happens to make me feel like a lame parent again. I guess a better quotation for me would be this one:

The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
--The Merchant of Venice, 5.1.91-7

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