Lexicon of Musical Invective
The Lexicon of Musical Invective is an American musicological work by Nicolas Slonimsky. It was first published in 1953, and a second, revised, and expanded edition was released in 1965. The book is an anthology of negative musical critiques, focusing on classical music masterpieces and composers who are now regarded as greats, including Beethoven and Varèse. The organization of the critiques in this book is meticulous. They are arranged alphabetically by composer and chronologically within each composer's section. The book also includes Invecticon, or "Index of Invectives." This index lists thematic keywords ranging from "aberration" to "zoo," and it references critiques that use these terms. Slonimsky's structure enables the exposition of the methods and styles employed in the press, ranging from poetic critiques to unexpected comparisons, frequently engendering a comedic effect, for the purpose of deriding contemporary music for readers. The juxtaposition of these critiques, spanning two centuries of divergent aesthetic trends yet unified by opposition to innovation in the arts, engenders a humorous repetition effect. The author establishes a unifying theme for this collection of humorous works in a prelude entitled Non-Acceptance of the Unfamiliar. The 2000 edition includes a foreword by Peter Schickele titled If You Can't Think of Something Nice to Say, Come Sit Next to Me, which employs humor to analyze Slonimsky's theses and invites readers to engage with the content through a lens of irony. The Lexicon of Musical Invective is a reference work of particular value to biographers of 19th and early 20th-century composers. Its entries constitute a substantial portion of the musicological references in Dictionary of Folly and Errors in Judgment, a work published in 1965 by Guy Bechtel and Jean-Claude Carrière. The book was translated into Spanish by Mariano Peyrou under the title Repertorio de vituperios musicales in 2016. Concepts developed by Nicolas Slonimsky for classical music are now applied to rock, pop, and other more recent musical genres. ContextThe Lexicon of Musical Invective project, which is a collection of negative musical critiques, spanned over twenty years and was shaped by the career path of Nicolas Slonimsky, a brilliant student of the Saint Petersburg Conservatory,[P 1] and his encounters with the most significant composers of his time.[P 2] A Russian musician in exileThe October Revolution took Nicolas Slonimsky, a Jewish musician born in Petrograd, by surprise.[P 3] In his autobiography, he described the city as "as good as dead"[P 4] by the summer of 1918, due to the chaos of the final months of World War I and the onset of the Russian Civil War. Consequently, the young musician was compelled to flee Russia.[P 5] The White and Red terrors exhibited mutual antisemitism, inciting pogroms and massacres.[P 6][P 7] Slonimsky's initial visit to Kyiv was to care for the family of the deceased pianist and composer, Alexander Scriabin, who had passed away three years prior.[P 8] He became involved in a community of intellectuals including the writer and musicologist, Boris de Schlœzer.[P 9] Slonimsky established a "Scriabin Society" to prevent the Bolsheviks from expelling the family.[P 8] He also led efforts to locate Julian Scriabin, who had gone missing at eleven. Despite these efforts, the fate of the boy remained uncertain, as the circumstances surrounding his death remained shrouded in mystery.[P 9] Exile subsequently led him to Yalta,[P 10] Constantinople,[P 11] and Sofia,[P 12] and in 1921,[P 13] he arrived in Paris, where he briefly worked with conductor Serge Koussevitzky.[P 14] This position enabled him to establish friendships with numerous émigré Russian composers, including Stravinsky and Prokofiev.[P 15] However, his relationship with Koussevitzky was marked by turbulence,[P 16] which ultimately led him to accept an offer from the Eastman School of Music in Rochester in 1923.[P 17] The American avant-garde
The young Russian musician found profound satisfaction in life in the United States, finally experiencing a sense of security and the nascent stages of material comfort.[P 18] Slonimsky commenced a career in conducting, and his inaugural performances met with considerable acclaim.[P 19] This success led to Koussevitzky's reappointment as an assistant,[P 20] which subsequently prompted the musician's relocation to Boston in 1927.[P 21] In this city, he established connections with the preeminent American composers of the 1920s and 1930s. The most prominent figure in this milieu was George Gershwin, to whom he introduced Aaron Copland.[P 22] However, the most active figure in the avant-garde scene was Henry Cowell, who published a notable article in Æsthete Magazine titled "Four Little Known Modern Composers: Chávez, Ives, Slonimsky, Weiss."[P 23] Thereafter, Slonimsky worked tirelessly to showcase the works of his friends, whose creative genius he immediately recognized.[P 24] In 1928, Cowell established a connection with two composers, Charles Ives[P 25] and Edgard Varèse,[P 26] who had an influence on him. During the subsequent five years, Slonimsky presented the works of these composers in the United States and Europe, along with those of Cowell, Chávez, Carl Ruggles, Wallingford Riegger, and Amadeo Roldán.[P 27] Notable concerts included:
In her biography of Varèse, Odile Vivier noted the Paris concerts of 1931–1932: "These works were almost unanimously appreciated. Unfortunately, the concerts were rare."[3] Concerts and critiquesA considerable number of these American and European concerts were funded by Charles Ives, who had accumulated a substantial fortune through his work in the insurance industry.[P 31] Capitalizing on the advantageous U.S. dollar exchange rates that prevailed in the early 1930s, Slonimsky orchestrated a series of concerts in prominent European cities, beginning with Paris and Berlin.[P 30] This endeavor culminated in a contractual agreement with the renowned Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles.[P 32] However, this engagement proved to be a financial debacle, largely attributable to the conservative inclinations of the affluent patrons who traditionally underwrote such events.[P 33] His conducting career ended abruptly,[4] leading him to transition "from baton to pen," as he put it.[P 34] While not all of these concerts were world premieres, they were nonetheless significant events. For instance, on February 21, 1932, in Paris, Slonimsky conducted the performance of Bartók's Piano Concerto No. 1, with the composer himself at the piano.[P 35] This performance, and the subsequent reviews of it, met with the approval of Darius Milhaud,[P 36] Paul Le Flem, and Florent Schmitt, who published their favorable critiques in Comœdia and Le Temps.[P 37] The responses from French and German critics were equally as astonishing as the music's impact on audiences.[5] In his 1988 autobiography, he reflected on the "extraordinary torrent of invective" provoked by a "harmless" piece by Wallingford Riegger:[P 38]
— Walter Abendroth, Allgemeine Musikzeitung, Berlin, March 25, 1932[L 1] Schönberg has described the experience as "surreal,"[P 38] inspiring him to compile a collection of scathing yet brilliantly written articles—the initial foundation of what would later become the Lexicon. For Schönberg's 70th birthday in 1944, Nicolas Slonimsky gifted the Austrian composer a copy of the most "outrageous" articles he had already gathered about him—a "poisoned gift" received with humor by the author of Pierrot Lunaire.[P 39] The final catalyst for the musicologist is his work on an extensive chronology titled Music Since 1900. For this project, he conducted extensive research in the libraries of Boston and New York, examining numerous 19th- and 20th-century newspaper articles.[L 2] Among his "favorite finds," he highlights the following article:
— Musical World, London, October 28, 1841[L 3] In 1948, the collection of musical anecdotes he published (Slonimsky’s Book of Musical Anecdotes) dedicated a section to "pleasant and unpleasant" critiques,[A 1] selected for their brevity—for example: "Musicians can play Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5 with their eyes closed, and they often do," or "Chopin’s Minute Waltz gives a bad quarter of an hour."[A 2] The following year, Carl Engel introduces Nicolas Slonimsky as a "the lexicographic beagle of keen scent and sight"[P 40] in his preface to the Baker’s Biographical Dictionary of Musicians. PresentationFrom the lexicon to the indexAccording to Nicolas Slonimsky, Lexicon is defined as "an anthology of critical attacks on composers since the time of Beethoven." The selection criterion is precisely the inverse of that employed by a press agent: rather than extracting phrases that could be considered flattering when taken out of context from an otherwise mixed review, the Lexicon cites biased, unjust, malicious, and singularly unprophetic judgments.[N 1] The author explains in the introduction how to search the Lexicon:[N 2]
Certain keywords are elucidated with specifications such as "in music" or "in a pejorative sense." By employing humor, Nicolas Slonimsky encourages readers to evaluate the index by examining the entry "ugly," which directs them to the pertinent pages and composers: "Practically everyone in this book, starting with Beethoven."[L 4] The author acknowledges that certain critiques were included for their unusual and spicy character, and he does not shy away from seeing Vincent d'Indy, who was the first composition teacher of Edgard Varèse,[6] referred to as the "father-in-law of dissonance";[N 3][L 5] Stravinsky as the "caveman of music";[L 6] and Webern as the "Kafka of modern music."[A 3] Invective-composed composersThe Lexicon of Musical Invective is an anthology of articles dedicated to forty-three composers from the 19th and 20th centuries.
Limitations of the scopeIn the preface to the 2000 edition of the Lexicon, composer and musicologist Peter Schickele poses the question, "Why begin with Beethoven?" After evaluating the author's arguments, Schickele identifies two equally valid reasons.
Peter Schickele references the remarks made by the esteemed musicologist H.C. Robbins Landon concerning the inaugural performance of Haydn's Military Symphony, asserting that it exemplified a composition seamlessly integrated into the cultural milieu of its era. This observation, as Schickele notes, marks a rare instance in the annals of music history where the audience instantaneously comprehended and cherished a masterpiece upon its initial encounter. This assertion, however, is met with a degree of skepticism, as Schickele qualifies it as "provocative."[note 1] Nonetheless, the perspective is corroborated by Guy Sacre, who substantiates this viewpoint. He states, "It is with Beethoven that the gap we commonly observe between an artist and their audience begins."[7] Even among 19th-century composers, Schickele is surprised by the absence of Schubert among the victims of the Lexicon's scathing critiques. He poses the question, "How is this possible? Is it because no one hates Schubert? (Impossible: everyone is hated by someone.[S 1])" Schickele hypothesizes that Schubert's music had drawn little attention from critics in New York and Boston, "Slonimsky's preferred hunting grounds" for assembling his anthology.[S 2] ExaminationTo ensure the preservation of musical criticism in its entirety, Nicolas Slonimsky opted for a methodology that involved the provision of reading keys, as opposed to the adoption of a thematic classification system. This approach has been adopted by other musicologists who share a similar objective, namely the identification of recurring accusations against composers. Henry-Louis de La Grange, a renowned French specialist in the field of Mahler, has presented a list of the "most frequently made reproaches against Berlioz in the press of his time,"[8] which he has found to be "rich with troubling coincidences:"[9]
According to La Grange, "all these accusations were also leveled at Mahler, except for the fifth, since it was not insufficiency but an excess of technique that critics denounced, convinced they had identified virtuosity whose sole purpose was to mask a lack of inspiration,"[9] a true trope in musical criticism. The Lexicon of Musical Invective, in its examination of the discord between composers and music critics, synthesizes analyses of the critical reception of individual composers.[N 5] Nicolas Slonimsky cites the 1877 compilation by Wilhelm Tappert, editor of the Allgemeine deutsche Musikzeitung, as "the first lexicon of musical invectives, limited to anti-Wagnerian protests."[N 5] This work was entitled Ein Wagner-Lexicon, Wörterbuch der Unhöflichkeit, enthaltend grobe, höhnende, gehässige und verleumderische Ausdrücke welche gegen den Meister Richard Wagner, The term was employed by his detractors to disparage both Wagner and his supporters, and the volume was meticulously curated to provide a source of edification during moments of ennui.[note 2] The thematic entries of this compendium offer a poignant illustration of the lengths to which critics will go in their pursuit of disparagement.[N 5] Great masters as bad studentsImpotence or ignorance According to the critiques featured in the Lexicon of Musical Invective, Johannes Brahms is crowned with the title of "impotence":[L 7]
— Friedrich Nietzsche, 2nd postscript to The Case of Wagner, 1888[L 9]
— J.F. Runciman, Musical Record, Boston, January 1, 1900, regarding the 2nd Piano Concert, Op. 83.[L 10] The author of the German Requiem is not an isolated case; this shortcoming frequently stems from a lack of knowledge regarding compositional guidelines. In this regard, Mussorgsky serves as a prime example of the "musician without musical education:"
— Alexandre Famintsyn, Musikalnyi Listok, Saint Petersburg, February 15, 1874[L 11]
— Tchaikovsky, letter to Nadezhda von Meck, January 5, 1878.[L 12]  Conversely, a renowned composition teacher like Vincent d'Indy can see his credentials revoked:
— Louis Elson, Boston Daily Advertiser, Boston, January 8, 1905, regarding Symphony No. 2, Op. 57.[L 14] Even "good students" are not immune to criticism, suggesting that they have absorbed the pedagogical practices of their "bad teachers:"
— Paul Scudo, Revue des Deux Mondes, Paris, March 15, 1862.[L 13]
— Olin Downes, The New York Times, October 29, 1926.[L 16] Musical madnessIn many cases, the music critic no longer merely listens but diagnoses a piece presented in concert, offering a genuine prognosis to warn listeners of a disease that might become contagious:
— Dramatic and Musical Review, London, November 4, 1843.[L 17]
— Paul Scudo, Revue des Deux Mondes, Paris, December 15, 1856.[L 18] 
— Le Ménestrel, Paris, February 15, 1863.[L 19] In instances where a particular affliction appears to be incurable, the Lexicon features an entry under "Bedlam," an appellation derived from the renowned psychiatric hospital in London, among other terms employed to characterize the madness of composers:
— Home Journal, Boston, May 15, 1880.[L 20]
— Dramatic and Musical Review, London, January 7, 1843.[L 21]
— César Cui, letter dated December 5, 1904, on Symphonia Domestica, op. 53.[L 22] In the final analysis, critics concede the authority of specialists. In his November 29, 1935 review for The New York Times, Olin Downes notes that Berg's Lulu, with its "thefts, suicides, murders, and a penchant for morbid eroticism," suggests a potentially fruitful subject for study for a "musical Freud or Krafft-Ebing."[L 23] Disgusts of natureMusicians' cuisine The association of a dissonant key, such as a distant key from C major or a nonchord tone, with a form of "musical spice" is a common trope in musicology. The Lexicon employs culinary comparisons as entries, offering a unique approach to musical analysis: Under "Cayenne Pepper":[L 24]
— Ludwig Rellstab, Iris, Berlin, August 2, 1833, comparing Chopin's Nocturnes Op. 9 to John Field's.[L 25]
— Letter to the editor of Musical World, New York, September 16, 1876.[L 26]
— Evening Post, New York, May 14, 1917.[L 27] In a concert review from Cincinnati, May 18, 1880, Wagner's music is described as "more indigestible than a lobster salad."[L 28] Nikolaï Soloviev finds Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 a failure, likening it to "the first pancake flipped in the pan."[L 29] Paul Rosenfeld compares Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 to "a funeral feast of honey and jams."[L 30] After hearing Ionisation at the Hollywood Bowl, conducted by Nicolas Slonimsky, a future musicologist receives the following note:
— Anonymous note, Hollywood, June 16, 1933.[L 31] The Lexicon also includes references to strong drinks, or "indigestible digestives":[L 7]
— Louis Elson, Daily Advertiser, Boston, January 2, 1905, on Prélude à l'Après-midi d'un faune.[L 32]
— Cecil Gray, responding to a 1924 survey on contemporary music.[L 33] Musical menagerieWithin the domain of sound, parallels between instrumental sonorities and animal cries are frequently drawn by critics, showcasing a remarkable array of zoological references. For instance, in 1948, Nicolas Slonimsky's compendium of musical anecdotes featured a section dedicated to the "Carnival of Animals," which was not related to Saint-Saëns's composition.[A 5] Conversely, Prokofiev is often referred to as "the ugly duckling of Russian music."[A 6] Liszt's Mephisto Waltz No. 1 has been likened to "wild boar music,"[L 34] while Bartók's Fourth String Quartet evokes the "alarm cry of a hen frightened by a Scottish terrier."[L 35] Strauss' Elektra, on the other hand, features "the squeaking of rats, the grunting of pigs, the mooing of cows, the meowing of cats, and the roaring of wild animals."[L 36] Finally, Webern's Five Orchestral Pieces are reminiscent of "insect activity."[L 37]
— Henri Blanchard, Revue et Gazette musicale de Paris, April 15, 1849.[L 38]
— George Templeton Strong, Journal, December 15, 1866.[L 39]
— Lawrence Gilman, New York Herald Tribune, November 29, 1926.[L 40] The Lexicon comprises entries under the category of "Cat Music" for compositions by renowned composers such as Wagner, Schoenberg, and Varèse,[L 24] among other expressions associated with feline cries, movements, and habits. 
— Edward Robinson, "The Naive Ravel," The American Mercury, May 1932.[L 41] Thorough integration of musical composition with the vocalizations of animals is exemplified in this analysis of the inaugural performance of Hyperprism:
— Ernest Newman, New York Evening Post, December 17, 1924.[L 42] Museum of horrorsIn certain instances, the utilization of comparisons that allude to disgust, animalistic tendencies, or bestiality proves to be inadequate. As noted by Nicolas Slonimsky, "In the perspective of reactionary critics, who possess a strong sense of righteousness, musical modernism is frequently linked with criminal deviant behavior or moral decadence."[N 6] Several operas' subjects are particularly conducive to such assessments. For instance, La Traviata was denounced by the London Times in 1856 as an "apology for prostitution,"[L 43] while Carmen was disparaged as "a debauchery of streetwalkers who come on stage to smoke a cigarette."[N 7] Similarly, an 1886 journalist from Le Siècle vehemently condemned Tristan und Isolde, articulating his sentiments as follows: "After the sensual love affairs, driven to delirium tremens by aphrodisiac drugs, of Tristan und Isolde, here is Die Walküre, offering us the repugnant tableau of incestuous love, complicated by adultery, between twin siblings."[L 44] Certain attacks focus more on the musical content than the subject matter:
— Musical Courier, New York, November 9, 1904.[L 45] 
— Boston Gazette, October 31, 1897.[L 46]
— The Musical Times, London, March 1898.[L 12]
— Herbert F. Peyser, New York Telegram, December 14, 1928.[L 47]
— W. J. Henderson, The New York Sun, February 9, 1935, on the opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District.[L 48] Against all oddsNicolas Slonimsky acknowledges the endeavors of critics who have composed articles in poetic form. For example, Louis Elson reviewed a performance of Mahler's Symphony No. 5 in Boston on February 28, 1914, with A Modern Symphony in five sextains:
Major newspapers have been known to publish negative and anonymous opinions in their original form. For example, Strauss' Elektra inspired a commentary in six quatrains in 1910:
The reference to the opera Il Trovatore prompts the Lexicon author to recall that the English poet Robert Browning harbored an aversion to Verdi's music:
The tradition of "musical invective in verse" saw its beginnings in 18th-century France and subsequently evolved into an Anglo-Saxon practice in the 20th century,[10] even finding application in educational settings. In these contexts, "musicological poems" emerged as mnemonic tools for students.[P 41] In 1948, Slonimsky's collection of musical anecdotes dedicated a section to these exercises, aptly titled "in verse and worse."[A 7] He further cited the poem by Erik Satie, renowned for its good-natured and clever jesting,[N 9] as an exemplar of British humor. The poem's initial two lines have gained considerable renown:[N 9] 
— Erik Satie, signed ERIT SATIS ("It will suffice"), published in La Semaine Musicale, Paris, November 11, 1927.[L 49] ArgumentsThe Lexicon is not merely an aggregation of disparate negative critiques; rather, it serves to illustrate Nicolas Slonimsky's thesis, which the author has summarized in a doubly negative phrase: "non-acceptance of the unusual" in music.[12] More precisely, the author identifies several recurring criticisms leveled at composers across all aesthetic tendencies, with certain arguments wielded by critics with the same vehemence over more than a century.[N 10] In accordance with the established conventions of academic rigor, Slonimsky articulates three of these arguments in Latin, thereby adhering to the established standards of scholarly discourse.
Eternal recurrence A decade apart, critic Paul Scudo employed nearly identical terms to condemn the works of both Berlioz and Wagner:
— Critique et Littérature Musicales, Paris, 1852.[L 50]
— [[L'Année musicale |L'Année musicale]], Paris, 1862.[L 51] Beyond what may connect or distinguish two composers, there is more than coincidence here. Virtually all great creators of the 19th century were accused of sacrificing melody:[N 14]
— Gazette Musicale, Paris, August 1, 1847.[L 52]
— Boston Gazette, January 5, 1879, regarding Bizet’s Carmen.[L 53] Nicolas Slonimsky is intrigued by the striking parallelism between two anonymous satirical poems published over a period of forty years. The first poem, published in 1880, was directed towards a concert featuring Wagner overtures, while the second, published in 1924, targeted Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. A remarkable similarity is observed in the concluding quatrains of both poems, with each concluding with nearly identical rhymes:
The author of the Lexicon notes that "the closing lines of these anti-Wagnerian and anti-Stravinskian poems are practically identical. One can be certain that the author of the poem against Stravinsky held Wagner’s music in high regard."[N 15] Music, the great unknown… The music critic's role as an intermediary between composer and audience is a source of concern for him, and he often refrains from explaining that which he does not understand. At best, he merely conveys his lack of comprehension, as reflected in the "Enigma" entry of the Lexicon:[L 54]
— The Harmonicon, London, July 1825, about Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7, Op. 92.[L 55]
— The Boston Globe, March 13, 1898.[L 56] In instances where comprehension is limited, an effort to discern the essence of the enigma presented by the music may nevertheless be undertaken. The Lexicon index underscores two notable trends in critiques from the 19th and 20th centuries. ...MathematicalAs Nicolas Slonimsky notes, "Professional music critics tend to demonstrate limited aptitude for mathematics. Consequently, they often draw comparisons between composition techniques that they find challenging and similarly intricate mathematical methods."[N 11] Entries such as "Algebra (in a pejorative sense)" and "Mathematics (in a pejorative sense)"[L 54] suggest a multitude of articles that address this subject:[L 57]
— Paul Scudo, Critique et Littérature Musicales, Paris, 1852.[L 50]
— Paul de Saint-Victor, La Presse, Paris, March 1861.[L 58]
— Boston Gazette, January 24, 1878.[L 59]
— Louis Elson, Boston Daily Advertiser, December 25, 1899.[L 60]
— New York Tribune, December 12, 1906, about Ravel’s String Quartet.[L 41] For listeners with a mild interest in mathematics, there is always the choice between "arithmetic music" by d’Indy,[L 5] "trigonometric music" by Brahms,[L 10] and "geometric music" by Schönberg.[L 61] ...Linguistic Even if a concertgoer were willing to sit through a lecture on mathematics, the music critic warns against scores whose content is not only inaccessible but presented in an indecipherable language:
All things considered, Chinese does not seem complicated enough for critics to express their musical incomprehension. Two entries refer to "Volapük":[L 63]
— H. E. Krehbiel, New York Tribune, November 13, 1886.[L 64]
— P.-B. Gheusi, Le Figaro, Paris, January 7, 1932, about Darius Milhaud’s opera Maximilien.[L 65] Anything but music…Having invoked gastronomy, pharmacology, zoology, psychopathology, meteorology, seismology, linguistics, and teratology, the reader should not be surprised if music critics occasionally lose sight of the art form to which a concert piece belongs:
— Alexandre Oulybychev, Beethoven, ses critiques et ses glossateurs, Paris, 1857, about the finale of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, Op. 67.[L 66]
— François-Joseph Fétis, Biographie Universelle des Musiciens, Brussels, 1837.[L 67] 
— Paul Scudo, Critique et Littérature Musicales, Paris, 1852.[L 21]
— Irving Kolodin, The New York Sun, November 14, 1934.[L 68] "Is such music truly music?" This question seems to have no answer—or a simple one, which American critic Olin Downes seems to have formulated, as the Lexicon attributes the authorship of two critiques under the entry "Ersatz music" to him:[L 69]
— Olin Downes, The New York Times, October 18, 1935.[L 70]
— Olin Downes, The New York Times, February 22, 1953, regarding The Rake's Progress opera.[L 71] The art of being deafAnglophone critics frequently employ an expression coined by William Shakespeare in Hamlet (Act III, Scene ii) to denigrate the spirit of excess in modern composers. This expression, which refers to the exaggerated acting of bad actors, is characterized by the phrase "it out-herods Herod:"[15][16][17] Thus, "in La Mer, Debussy out-Richards Strauss,"[L 72] as "Strauss' music, full of diabolically clever effects, over-Berliozes Berlioz' music"[L 73] — and so on, since Sibelius' Symphony No. 4 is "more Debussy than the worst moments of Debussy"...[L 74] Much ado about nothingMusic critics, who often possess limited expertise in the domain of music, nevertheless frequently exhibit evidence of their profound literary acumen. A notable instance of this phenomenon is the frequent citation of a line from Act V, Scene v of Shakespeare's Macbeth:[18]
 The term Sound and Fury, which was the inspiration for the title of a Faulkner novel, is specifically defined in the Lexicon of Musical Invective:[L 75] A critic from Boston and one from New York both employed the term, a few days apart—on February 22 and 28, 1896—regarding the same work: Richard Strauss' Till Eulenspiegel symphonic poem:[L 76][L 77]
— Louis Elson, Boston Daily Advertiser, April 27, 1896, regarding Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.[L 78]
— Samuel Chotzinoff, New York World, February 4, 1927, regarding Piano Concerto.[L 79] In general, Nicolas Slonimsky states, "A young music always seems louder to old ears. Beethoven was noisier than Mozart; Liszt was louder than Beethoven; Strauss louder than Liszt; Schönberg and Stravinsky louder than all their predecessors combined."[N 8] It is rare, however, that a composer gives both "too much" and "too little" music to his listeners. Gustav Mahler accomplished this feat, according to the following critique:
— The New York Sun, December 5, 1913.[L 80] Unheard music At the opposite extreme of the auditory spectrum, criticism articulates the discomfort experienced by listeners when confronted with such minimal acoustic pressure that it engenders a sense of hollowness and vertigo. The Lexicon of Musical Invective cites two references for "lilliputian art," referencing works by Debussy and Webern:[L 81]
— Raphaël Cor, "Mr. Claude Debussy and Contemporary Snobbery" in Le Cas Debussy, Paris, 1910.[L 82]
— Camille Bellaigue, Revue des Deux Mondes, Paris, May 15, 1902, regarding Pelléas et Mélisande.[L 83]
— The Daily Telegraph, London, September 9, 1922, regarding Five Movements for String Quartet, Op. 5.[L 84] False prophets of "music without a future"From a historical and musicological standpoint, the Lexicon is bound to include the "calls to posterity" articulated by music critics during the 19th and 20th centuries:[N 12]
— The Harmonicon, London, April 1829, regarding Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony, Op. 55.[L 85]
— Boston Daily Advertiser, October 29, 1874.[L 20] 
— Revue et gazette musicale de Paris, May 22, 1853.[L 52]
— Oscar Comettant, Almanach Musical, Paris, 1861.[L 86]
— The Orchestra, London, March 15, 1886.[L 34]
— Musical Courier, New York, March 10, 1915.[L 87]
— Musical Courier, New York, December 28, 1929.[L 88]
— W. J. Henderson, The New York Sun, January 16, 1937.[L 89] Concerns regarding the future trajectory of music and its present state of development are the following:
— [[Paris-Midi |Paris-Midi]], May 29, 1913, about the Three Pieces, Op. 11.[L 90] AnalysisIn the preface to the 2000 edition, Peter Schickele characterizes the Lexicon of Musical Invective as "probably the most amusing reference work ever assembled" in the domain of classical musicology.[S 3] The humor present in this work can be observed in two distinct aspects. Firstly, it is a commonly accepted notion—or at the very least, a firmly established belief—that negative criticism is often more entertaining to read than enthusiastic praise.[S 3] Secondly, the structure of the work itself reveals numerous playful elements in its search keys, and it exhibits "a mischievous and subtle mindset" in the conception of the whole.[S 3] Peter Schickele begins with a warning: "There is plenty of delectable poison in this book. It’s a horse-sized remedy, and since it contains such a potent concentrate of invective, the responsible pharmacist would do well to add some usage precautions to the label:
In his analysis, Nicolas Slonimsky emphasizes the "remarkably inventive figures of speech for demolishing musical transgressors"[N 1] employed by these critics, highlighting their capacity to engage with novel musical ideas beyond the confines of preconceived notions or fixed ideologies. Many of these critics are highly cultured individuals whose writings exhibit sophistication, yet in certain circumstances where they become vehement, they demonstrate a proficiency in the art of vituperation.[N 1] These critics were confronted with challenges that extend beyond the boundaries of their comfort zone, as would be described by a psychologist.[N 16] Examining the "myopia" commonly attributed to these critics, Peter Schickele's analysis challenges, and at times, refutes, the thesis proposed by Slonimsky on several points.[S 5] Music and controversyThe dreaded outsiderIn 2022, an American musicologist expressed a sense of "revulsion toward our musical past" in response to "these openly racist and sexist critiques," which were compiled in the Lexicon of Musical Invective. The musicologist also found humor in the "rude and insulting language" used to describe musicians and their music. They asked themselves, "What is the relationship between music and insult? And how far can it go?"[20] Nicolas Slonimsky expresses astonishment at the apparent absence of "moderation" in the music critics of the 19th and early 20th centuries. He notes that contemporary critics often condemn a piece of music they dislike, yet they refrain from denigrating the composer. Moreover, they refrain from denigrating them to the extent of likening them to members of an inferior race, as exemplified by James Gibbons Huneker's remarkable portrayal of Debussy in 1903, wherein he draws parallels between the composer and a gypsy, a Croat, a Hun, a Mongol, and a Borneo monkey.[N 4] The assimilation of a composer and their work is a well-established phenomenon. However, a more insidious form of assimilation must also be considered, one that pervades all aspects of a composer's surroundings and contributes to their reputation. For instance, in the midst of World War I, an American critic dismissed Mahler's Symphony No. 8 as "rough and irreverent, dry, Teutonic" in a dated article from April 12, 1916.[L 91] Conversely, a German critic dismissed the same composer in 1909, stating, "If Mahler's music were expressed in Yiddish, perhaps it would seem less incomprehensible to me. However, it would still be repellent because it's Jewish."[L 80] Richard Wagner is widely regarded as the inaugural figure in the realm of "musical anti-Semitism,"[21] a term coined to denote the tendency to denigrate Jewish individuals and Jewish cultural contributions within the context of music. This phenomenon was exemplified by Wagner's critique of Meyerbeer and Mendelssohn in his 1869 essay,[22] Das Judenthum in der Musik ("Judaism in Music"). Such remarks have been identified in the writings of numerous 20th-century critics, whether explicitly or subtly. A notable example is the deliberate erasure of Mendelssohn from the annals of German music, as evidenced by Hans Joachim Moser's contributions in the 1920s.[P 42] In 1952, while engaged in the composition of the Lexicon of Musical Invective, Nicolas Slonimsky was reported to the Federal Bureau of Investigation for "anti-American activities."[P 43] Concurrently, his brother Mikhaïl Slonimsky, who remained in the USSR, was accused of "anti-communist activities."[P 44] The investigations by the McCarthy Committee and the NKVD would persist until 1962, resulting in their rehabilitation in both cases.[P 45] Slonimsky, a staunch defender of Jewish composers such as Schönberg, Milhaud, and Bloch,[N 12] was particularly sensitive to the hypocritical attacks leveled against him. He had previously been a target of Nazi German press[P 46] and ridiculed by musicians such as Serge Koussevitzky, who failed to recognize that Slonimsky was just as Russian-Jewish as Koussevitzky himself.[P 47] An illustration of Slonimsky's Jewish humor can be found in the Lexicon, specifically in an article about Wagner, which makes the following reference to Hitler: "Hitler (in a pejorative sense)."[L 92] Despite a favorable disposition toward a foreign composer, a critic may nevertheless find the composer's work, the composer's person, and even the composer's name to be a source of amusement. On October 27, 1897, a critic from the Musical Courier of New York playfully remarked, "Rimski-Korsakov — now there's a name! It evokes fierce mustaches soaked in vodka!"[L 93] The irreconcilable opponentThe National Socialist German Workers' Party (NSDAP), commonly known as the Nazi Party, took the process of incorporating new music with opposition to their political theories to an extreme degree. In 1938, the Party organized a concert of "degenerate music."[23] However, music critics had already paved the way for this association. Nicolas Slonimsky highlights the term Degenerate Music at the beginning of an anonymous editorial from Musical Courier on September 13, 1899.[N 17]  The Lexicon provides several examples where music and political threats are closely linked:
— Dr. Königstern, Illustrierte Wiener Extrablatt, Vienna, December 6, 1881.[L 95]
— Arthur Pougin, Le Ménestrel, Paris, May 4, 1902, about Pelléas et Mélisande.[L 96] — Reginald De Koven, New York Herald, November 24, 1918.[L 97]
— Herbert Gerigk, Die Musik, November 1934.[L 61] One year after the publication of the Lexicon, an audience member continued to refer to Edgard Varèse as the "Dominici of music" in reference to the tumultuous premiere of Déserts at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées on December 2, 1954.[24] According to the Archbishop of Dubuque (Iowa) in 1938, "a degenerate and demoralizing musical system, ignobly called swing, is at work to corrupt and gnaw at the moral fiber of our youth."[N 17] That same year, jazz bands were banned in the USSR as "chaotic rhythmic organizations with deliberately and pathologically ignoble sounds."[N 18] Maxime Gorky saw jazz as "capitalist perversion."[N 19] An American writer who was both Catholic and racist characterized jazz as a form of "Voodoo in music," emphasizing the expression Negro spiritual.[N 19] In contrast, the theosophist composer Cyril Scott perceived jazz as "the work of Satan, the work of the forces of Darkness."[N 19] A close examination of these trends reveals a clear alignment, and Nicolas Slonimsky proposes that these ardent proponents of the waltz consult the Cyclopaedia of Rees, a comprehensive compendium published in London in 1805: "The waltz is a boisterous German dance of recent provenance. After observing its performance by a select group of foreigners, we found ourselves reflecting on the potential sentiments of an English mother witnessing her daughter being treated in such a familiar manner, and even more so, the dancers' readiness to engage with these uninhibited gestures."[N 20] Criticism of criticsIn the "Prelude" of the Lexicon, Nicolas Slonimsky cites a letter from Debussy to Varèse dated February 12, 1911, containing "relevant and profound remarks"[N 21] on music criticism:
The author also highlights Schönberg's response to the countless criticisms he faced:
Among the composers closely associated with Slonimsky, Schönberg was known to be particularly critical of his detractors,[A 9] while Stravinsky's criticism was often severe, even towards his supporters.[P 48] Charles Ives, a renowned composer and critic, believed that criticism serves as a testament to human intelligence.[note 3][P 50] Edgard Varèse exhibited an even more pronounced "American" attitude in his interviews with Georges Charbonnier, broadcast from March 5 to April 30, 1955, and published in 1970,[25] characterized by a less spontaneous presentation than in person:[26]
Critical pointsGuy Sacre notes that Beethoven's music was initially deemed "incomprehensible," a word frequently used in critiques of the time.[28] In his analysis, Peter Schickele addresses the limitations of some theses presented by Nicolas Slonimsky on this matter: a superficial reading of the Lexicon of Musical Invective might overlook that "Beethoven, while being one of the most iconoclastic composers of all time, was held in such high esteem that members of the Austrian aristocracy spontaneously started a subscription to raise funds for him when it was time for him to leave Vienna, or the fact that nearly twenty thousand people attended his funeral."[S 6] Likewise, The Rite of Spring is "the only work by a living composer—and indeed, the only composition from the 20th century—adapted for cinema in Fantasia by Walt Disney, one of the most popular producers in the entire entertainment industry."[S 6] A healthy reactionAccording to Peter Schickele, a renowned authority in the field, the Lexicon's most significant merits lie in its ability to serve as an antidote to the idolization of the great masters. This reverent and prostrate adoration, Schickele contends, is akin to the reverence bestowed upon the masterpieces of classical music, as if they were engraved on the sides of Mount Sinai and immediately accepted as having the force of law.[S 6] In a letter written from Berlin, published on November 8, 1843, and included in the "First Journey to Germany" of his Memoirs, Berlioz reports on the true "cult" of Bach's music in Berlin and Leipzig:
In an interview with Excelsior on January 18, 1911, Debussy articulated a similar sense of autonomy:
Since "waste exists in all creators, even Mozart, even Bach," Antoine Goléa is not surprised that "it also exists among the 'greats' of Romanticism, but they all have the excuse of having sought, of having advanced, which made their mistakes fatal" and justifies the choice made by Nicolas Slonimsky to start the Lexicon of Musical Invective with the history of Western classical music.[31] Homage or mockery? According to Roger Delage, a specialist in Emmanuel Chabrier's music, "a superficial mind might be surprised that the same man who had sobbed in Munich upon hearing the cellos play the A of the prelude to Tristan composed shortly after the irreverent Souvenirs de Munich, a fantasia in the form of a quadrille on themes from Tristan und Isolde,"[32] for four hands piano. This would forget, as Marcel Proust would say, that "if we seek what true greatness impresses upon us, it is too vague to say that it is respect, and it is actually more of a kind of familiarity. We feel our soul, what is best and most sympathetic in us, in them, and we mock them as we mock ourselves."[32] Exactly contemporaneously, and from a composer embodying "supreme distinction" alongside the "riotous humor"[33] of Chabrier, Gabriel Fauré declared himself "müde [tired] of admiration" before Wagner's Die Meistersinger[34] and "saddened by the weakness of Tannhäuser."[34] According to Jean-Michel Nectoux, "his admiration remains lucid and measured,"[35] which he expresses in his Souvenirs de Bayreuth, "a fantasia in the form of a quadrille on favorite themes from Wagner's Tetralogy," composed for four hands piano in collaboration with André Messager.[36] Gustave Samazeuilh reminds those who may doubt that these two satirical quadrilles, "of the most amusing fantasy," were the "delight" of Wagnerians themselves "in the heroic days of Wagnerism"[37]—to the point of having piano transcriptions created.[38][39] Two admirers of Chabrier,[40] Erik Satie and Maurice Ravel, pay him homage in a roundabout way. Vladimir Jankélévitch recommends reading with attention "the harmless parody that Ravel, in 1913, wrote À la manière d'Emmanuel Chabrier."[41] Satie even made a specialty of "parodies and caricatures of an author or a work."[42] To illustrate this practice is the reuse of the piece España in the 1913 work Croquis et Agaceries d'un gros bonhomme en bois by Chabrier.[43] Musical parodies typically target famous works: Faust by Gounod, parodied "in the second degree" by Ravel—À la manière d'Emmanuel Chabrier presenting itself as a paraphrase on the tune "Faites-lui mes aveux" from Act 3[44]—is also ridiculed by Debussy in La Boîte à joujoux,[45] and Honegger—the funeral march from Les Mariés de la tour Eiffel reuses Gounod's "Waltz."[46] In certain instances, a composer has been known to direct criticism at both the work and the person of his fellow composer. For example, the Danish composer Rued Langgaard composed a posthumous "sarcastic and desperate"[47] tribute to his compatriot Carl Nielsen in 1948. This piece, titled Carl Nielsen, our great composer, is a thirty-two-bar piece for choir and orchestra, where the text is just the title repeated da capo ad infinitum.[48] In that same year, Langgaard composed a similar piece titled Res Absurda!?, which expresses his dismay as a post-romantic and marginalized musician[49] before the "absurdity" of twentieth-century modern music.[50] Nicolas Slonimsky cites the Ode to Discord by Irish composer Charles Villiers Stanford,[51] which was premiered on June 9, 1909, as an example of a work that critiques, through parody, the modernist trends of his contemporaries in general.[N 9] The author of the Lexicon and his commentator, Peter Schickele, shared this sense of ironic musical homage, offering subtle parodies of Wagner's works—such as Le dernier tango à Bayreuth, for bassoon quartet, where the "Tristan chord" is interpreted in a tango rhythm[52]—and especially of Bach. Nicolas Slonimsky dedicates two of his Minitudes[53] to reinterpretations based on the fugue in C minor BWV 847 from The Well-Tempered Clavier: No. 47, "Bach in fluid tonality," subjecting the fugue subject to modulations in every measure; and No. 48, "Bach times 2 equals Debussy," altering all intervals to eliminate semitones and result in a piece in a whole-tone scale.[54] Moreover, Peter Schickele ascribes to an imaginary son of the Cantor of Leipzig[S 7] an extensive repertoire of ingenious compositions,[55] including Short-tempered Clavier[56] and a Two-part Contraption, drawing parallels to Bach's Two-Part Inventions BWV 772–786.[57] Critical composersAmong the French musicians cited in the Lexicon, Hector Berlioz was the first to wield the pen of a music critic alongside that of a composer, a situation he saw as a "fate" in his Mémoires,[58] which Gérard Condé invites us to view not "in a negative light but as a natural consequence, a double-edged result, of his literary education."[59] The author never asserts himself more than "half as a composer," and if it is clear, in hindsight, that he never stopped pleading his own cause, it was like the wolf in La Fontaine's fable, dressed in the shepherd's habit, having to fight "against his readers, these dilettantes whom he put on trial, and these Mr. Prudhommes for whom music is just a noise more expensive than others."[60] A selection of the author's articles were published in two volumes: Les Grotesques de la musique (1859) and À travers chants (1862). In the former, Berlioz presents his readers with his conception of "a model critic:"
Nicolas Slonimsky has documented the incident in which Leonid Sabaneïev published a scathing review[A 10] of Prokofiev's Scythian Suite in 1916, despite being unaware that the piece had been removed from the concert program at the last minute. This oversight led to Sabaneïev's resignation, which he refused to apologize for.[N 22] Notably, Berlioz makes a veiled reference to the critic Paul Scudo, characterizing him as "a Jupiter of criticism" and "an illustrious and conscientious Aristarchus."[62] This reference was met with such enthusiasm that Scudo became the sole critic to condemn Les Grotesques de la musique in a press that was largely favorable to the work.[63] At the dawn of the 20th century, a notable shift occurred in the professional landscape of composers, as Claude Debussy, Paul Dukas, and Florent Schmitt began to assume the dual roles of composer and critic. This development stands in contrast to the more amiable demeanor exhibited by Berlioz, who, according to Suzanne Demarquez, was "quite a good fellow to his colleagues."[64] In contrast, Debussy was renowned for his "sharp tongue as well as a sharp pen"[65] in his critiques.The competitive dynamic between Debussy and Ravel gave rise to caustic phrases[66] that evoke Berlioz's own contentious relationship with Wagner.[L 98] However, Debussy's assessment of the Valses nobles et sentimentales, Berlioz's perspective on the Tristan und Isolde overture, and the numerous critiques exchanged between composers, as cited in the Lexicon,[note 5] are characterized by Suzanne Demarquez as exemplifying "musician's analysis, knowing what he is talking about." The evaluation of these works is clearly subjective and subject to individual preference.[67]  Accordingly, Florent Schmitt's assessment, esteemed by Slonimsky as a "prominent French composer" yet a discerning critic,[P 37] holds particular significance when he offers his perspective on Hindemith's Concerto for Orchestra on October 30, 1930:
The dual role of composer and critic invariably entails "risks,"[69] as critics consistently seek opportunities for retribution. A notable example is Mercure de France's censure of Dukas' Symphony in C Major, which he critiqued as a "product of critique." It is akin to a protracted treatise that the critic has imposed upon himself, thereby demonstrating to the musicians whose compositions he evaluates that, in his capacity as a critic, he is not reticent to exhibit his own capabilities."[69] Composer Charles Koechlin, who often warned his students against "the backbiting that is common at the Conservatoire and the snobbery that characterizes certain musical groups today,"[70] readily adopts the terms used by Debussy in his first critical article:
— Claude Debussy, La Revue blanche, Paris, April 1, 1901.[71] In their conclusion, Gilles Macassar and Bernard Mérigaud cite the renowned composer Maurice Ravel's sentiment[72] that "A critique, even insightful, is of lesser necessity than a production, no matter how mediocre." This assertion serves to underscore the notion that music criticism, even when it is of a discerning and insightful nature, is secondary to the creation of a musical work, irrespective of its quality.[69] Critique against critiqueIt is an uncommon occurrence for a professional critic to attack one of their colleagues, despite the fact that they utilize the same terminology to denigrate composers whose musical works they find unsatisfactory. For instance, Olin Downes, esteemed as the "apostle of Sibelius"[73] in the United States, characterizes the music of Schönberg[L 62] and Stravinsky as ersatz.[L 71] Conversely, Antoine Goléa reduces Sibelius to an "ersatz, both of Mendelssohn and of Bruckner."[74]
In light of these cross judgments of Sibelius, Alex Ross proposes that Nicolas Slonimsky should have supplemented his Lexicon of Musical Invective with a Lexicon of Musical Condescension, which would have comprised articles and essays of superior intellect in which masterpieces of the contemporary repertoire would be dismissed as kitsch.[note 6][76] Professional musicologists rarely criticize their colleagues—at least in their articles: a perceptive and mocking author like Paul Léautaud recounts the following anecdote in Passe-temps:
In order to undertake a critique of music criticism, it was necessary to possess the talents of a writer and journalist—or, more aptly, a polemicist—in addition to a certain degree of open-mindedness and "exceptional emotional capacity," qualities that could be found in the works of Octave Mirbeau.[78] Mirbeau, a literary and art critic who infrequently reviewed concerts,[79] vehemently criticized composers he regarded as "blinkered,"[80] such as Saint-Saëns,[81] Gounod,[82] and Massenet,[83] while concurrently defending composers who had been overlooked by their contemporaries, including Franck[84] and Debussy.[85] His criticism of critics and musicologists of his era was unabashed, and his columns frequently provoked controversy in the press and public opinion.[86] In "What One Writes" (Le Journal, January 17, 1897), the author of The Diary of a Chambermaid reverses the roles and takes the place of the critics addressing him: 
In this final point, Peter Schickele raises an objection, considering that in reading the Lexicon, "the lowest amusement—delightful, no doubt, but definitely low—lies in rejoicing with ill spirit over an unfulfilled prophecy: how stupid must one have been to think that Rigoletto had practically no chance of staying in the repertoire?"[S 4] He further casts new light on this impossible role:
In his analysis of the Lexicon of Musical Invective, Jacques Barzun considers this misunderstanding of music criticism as "inevitable. We will fall back into this trap when a truly new music imposes itself on our ears. The only way to escape it would be to renounce criticism altogether."[88] LegacyNostalgias of the avant-garde The book immediately found success in the United States,[89] where it was considered "a humorous classic of anecdotal literature in classical music."[90] Despite its "remarkable influence on the musical world, beyond insult,"[91] Nicolas Slonimsky became "the author of the Lexicon of Musical Invective,"[92] to the point of considering naming his autobiography Muses and Lexicons.[93] In this text, finally titled Perfect Pitch (referring to perfect pitch[P 51]), he thus testifies:
The public's apparent insensitivity regarding the Lexicon of Musical Invective's end date offers insight into the decision to publish it. Initially, the book's publication date was believed to be the basis for determining the end date. However, for the 1965 reissue, Nicolas Slonimsky merely added a select number of articles[L 100] on composers who were already featured. However, Peter Schickele contends that, "in retrospect, this date emerges as eminently suitable: a mere few years later, in the midst of the 20th century, the era of prominent and renowned classical music composers reached its culmination."[S 1] For contemporary composers, reading the book is of unexpected value. In his autobiography, John Adams states, "Blessed be Nicolas Slonimsky for having cataloged the violent reactions from the public or critics attacking one great master after another, in his amusing Lexicon of Musical Invective, so deeply consoling for composers!"[94] In 2023, American musicologist Richard Taruskin still considers the Lexicon a "great classic," and "the heaviest, most concentrated preemptive guilt-trip ever administered to immunize the new from hostile critique"[95] Robin Wallace further clarifies the book's influence in concert settings, particularly in radio: "It has become a technique for concert program presenters to cite past unfavorable reviews of recognized masterpieces, to show the current public how much our understanding of music has evolved."[96] Peter Schickele ultimately discerns that such egregious misjudgments are not confined to classical music. He cites an English record label producer who had initially declined to listen to four emerging musicians named The Beatles, reasoning that "groups are out."[S 4] Dissonances and resolutionsIn his Prelude to the Lexicon, Nicolas Slonimsky puts forth a proposal, grounded in his personal experience as a conductor and musicologist, to assess the time required for "acceptance by the public and critics of music unfamiliar to them":
The career of The Rite of Spring offers a compelling illustration of the law of a forty-year lag. Citing the testimony of conductor Pierre Monteux following a resounding performance of Stravinsky's work in Paris on May 8, 1952, which marked thirty-nine years since its 1913 premiere, also conducted by Monteux, the author provides a noteworthy example of this phenomenon. The audience's response, as reported, is said to have equaled the level of enthusiasm of the previous performance, yet it was characterized by a significantly different tone.[N 15] This open question regarding the time required for a radically new "classical" music masterpiece to be properly appreciated is referred to among English-speaking musicologists[97] as the "Slonimsky Conjecture." Some contend that Slonimsky's proposal "is not a conjecture; it is History."[98] Guy Sacre cites Beethoven's remark about musical audiences: "They will like it one day." This remark, made in a casual and seemingly dismissive tone, has gained significant recognition.[7] Peter Schickele further explores this concept, noting that a lack of familiarity with a musical composition is not the sole factor contributing to its disfavor. In fact, the reverse scenario is equally probable, and it may even be more prevalent. Consequently, he posits that a melody that persists in the mind, akin to Strangers in the Night (a personal point of irritation), can be just as exasperating as a concert replete with dissonant harmonies.[S 9] In the case of composers whose works are frequently performed, unfavorable opinions from established critics or knowledgeable music enthusiasts can be explained as a form of "revolt against habit." Peter Schickele humorously refers to the Bruckner Expressway in the South Bronx, New York, which is supposedly named after Anton Bruckner because it is "long, boring, and leads nowhere." This represents a "lack of appreciation that survives familiarity."[S 9] The problem posed by Slonimsky and Schickele is thus as follows: can the work of a "classical" composer still provoke surprise to the extent of drawing the ire of music critics—fulfilling Debussy's wish when he stated, "Indeed, on the distant day—hopefully as late as possible—when I no longer provoke controversy, I will deeply regret it?"[99] Antoine Goléa responds affirmatively and in detail to this question in 1977, focusing on one of the oldest composers mentioned in the Lexicon, right after Beethoven:
A reference workIn the United States In the United States and the English-speaking world, the Lexicon of Musical Invective is regarded as a foundational work in the field,[101][102] with a long history of study,[103] citation,[104] and commentary.[105] A recent compilation of musicological research texts (Sourcebook for Research in Music, published in 2005) even assigns it a special place within its reference system.[106] A literary analysis of Thomas Mann's Doctor Faustus elucidates the artistic isolation of the protagonist composer, Adrian Leverkühn, drawing upon arguments presented by Nicolas Slonimsky.[107] The recognition Nicolas Slonimsky received was significant, as evidenced by the praise he received from Eric Blom in the preface to the 1954 edition of the Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians.[P 40] This recognition enabled him to secure the position of editor-in-chief of Baker's Biographical Dictionary of Musicians, a role that involved revising the biographical entries in a new edition published in 1958.[P 53] In the domain of classical music, Henry Cowell incorporated two poems cited in the Lexicon—one that criticized Wagner and the other that criticized Stravinsky—into musical compositions "with a fitting sense of parody."[P 39] The theories presented in the book are now being applied to the realm of popular music, including pop and rock. In 2013, in a work titled Bad Music: The Music We Love to Hate, Simon Frith pays tribute to the "everlasting appeal"[108] of the Lexicon of Musical Invective. Following this model, the British critic compares the scandal caused by Bob Dylan's concert at the Free Trade Hall in Manchester to that of The Rite of Spring—describing it as "the angriest audience in the entire history of rock"[109] in 1966. He also references compilations of the Worst Records Ever Made,[110] whose selection criteria mirror the criticisms analyzed by Nicolas Slonimsky. In a manner similar to Peter Schickele, Frith also examines the phenomenon of overplayed songs, such as "summer hits" and Christmas albums,[111] as well as opportunistic releases, including albums produced in the aftermath of significant events, such as the 9/11 attacks.[111] According to musicologists, the late 20th century was characterized by an accentuated distinction between the roles of critics and producers in the highly competitive domain of pop culture and television.[112] Translations and inspirationsIn order to "preserve the documentary value of the cited articles," the Lexicon of Musical Invective is written in English. "Reviews written in French and German are presented in their original form, followed by an English translation."[N 2] However, Russian documents are quoted directly in English in the work, without the original texts in Cyrillic. The Argentine poet and musician Mariano Peyrou provided a Spanish translation, published in 2016 under the title Repertorio de vituperios musicales.[113] In that same year, a German anthology was published. Titled Verdikte über Musik 1950–2000 ("Verdicts on Music from 1950 to 2000"), the structure of this anthology was inspired by Nicolas Slonimsky's work.[114] In fact, it adopted a similar format with an "index of verdicts" organized by keywords.[115] The temporal parameters delineated in the title imply that the selected critiques focus on musicians of a more recent era than those encompassed within the Lexicon. This encompasses classical influences such as Beat Furrer,[116] jazz figures like Oscar Peterson,[117] electroacoustic composers like Dieter Kaufmann,[118] pop artists like Tom Jones,[119] and hard rock performers like Alice Cooper.[120] In FranceIn 1961, Marc Pincherle recommended to music critics the "fully prepared, brand-new arsenal made available" by the Lexicon of Musical Invective, a compendium of critical writings on music compiled by Nicolas Slonimsky.[121] This recommendation was made in a monograph dedicated to Berlioz that was published in 1968 by composer and musicologist Claude Ballif. In this monograph, Ballif addressed the Lexicon to "those interested in this kind of literature."[122] In 1987, Christian Goubault characterized the Lexicon as an "excellent but harsh work—harsh for critics" in an article on "Debussy and the feeling of Le Mer."[123] In 2006, the Lexicon of Musical Invective was consulted as a reference in a more extensive analysis of the techniques of invective.[124] The Dictionnaire de la bêtise et des erreurs de jugement (Dictionary of Stupidity and Errors of Judgment) by Guy Bechtel and Jean-Claude Carrière, published in 1965, drew heavily from the Lexicon for examples of "errors of judgment" in the field of classical music—either by reproducing the same articles published in the press or by directly citing it as a reference work.[125] Unlike Nicolas Slonimsky, however, the authors prefaced each critique with a few words of commentary, highlighting certain keys to interpreting the Lexicon: Beethoven’s music is "a real zoo,"[126] Berlioz "lacks technique,"[127] Brahms "chose the wrong profession—he should have been a mathematician."[128] Debussy is "subtle, but quite unpleasant,"[129] and Liszt is "despised in major capitals... and in the provinces."[130] Although they trace criticism back to Mozart,[131] their approach is similar to that of Nicolas Slonimsky: "For too long, we have been presented with all kinds of beauties while simultaneously being denied the best means to appreciate them."[132] Notes
References
BibliographyNicolas Slonimsky's worksEditions of the Lexicon of Musical Invective
Autobiography and musicology
Other cited worksArticles dedicated to the Lexicon of Musical Invective
Around the Lexicon of Musical Invective
General works
Monographs on the Lexicon of Musical Invective
Other monographs mentioned
Discography notes
External links
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