Chopin loved the night and its soft mysteries as
much as did Robert Louis Stevenson, and his nocturnes are true
night pieces, some with agitated, remorseful countenance, others
seen in profile only, while many are whisperings at dusk. Most of
them are called feminine, a term psychologically false. The
poetic side of men of genius is feminine, and in Chopin the
feminine note was over emphasized--at times it was almost
hysterical--particularly in these nocturnes.
The Scotch have a proverb: "She wove her shroud, and wore it in
her lifetime." In the nocturnes the shroud is not far away.
Chopin wove his to the day of his death, and he wore it sometimes
but not always, as many think.
One of the most elegiac of his nocturnes is the first in B flat
minor. It is one of three, op. 9, dedicated to Mme. Camille
Pleyel. Of far more significance than its two companions, it is,
for some reason, neglected. While I am far from agreeing with
those who hold that in the early Chopin all his genius was
completely revealed, yet this nocturne is as striking as the
last, for it is at once sensuous and dramatic, melancholy and
lovely.
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