Maria Anna, known as Nannerl, and her younger brother Wolfgang Amadeus were both musical geniuses – and had a strong connection during their childhood. In the second half of the 18th century, however, women were prevented from realizing their potential by societal strictures. This is the framework mapped out in the novel by the Italian Rita Charbonnier, Nannerl, la hermana de Mozart, now published in Chile – and also in the French film written and directed by René Féret, that has the same title.

With a fast-paced and a very visual writing, Charbonnier’s novel alternates a third-person narrator to a romantic correspondence between Nannerl Mozart and the major Franz Armand d’Ippold. The letters show the frustration of the girl who, by the decision of her father Leopold, cannot express her talent and must instead teach music to finance her brother’s promotional travels. There are many fictional elements, as even the letters – or the strong affection between Leopold and Amadeus, that becomes closer and closer as the years go by: in the novel, when Wolfgang goes to live in Vienna, he does so with the full approval of his father. In reality, Mozart remained in Vienna against his father’s wishes.

>> Read full article on Rita Charbonnier online

Photo by altemark

Italian journalist Loredana Lipperini writes on her very influential blog Lipperatura:

Let’s call her “Em”.

I have erased and replaced her name also in previous comments by her and by other readers.

“Em” works in a public library of the Province of Treviso, I will not tell in which town. I want to protect her identity, and also to thank her for her courage.

“Em” has told here, and then privately, a story regarding libraries, once again. The day after the Speranzon Case (on which you can find an important article [in Italian] by Massimo Carlotto on Carmilla, by the way), a breach is opening: many librarians are contacting me and writer Michela Murgia, in order to denounce explicit or underlying forms of censorship.

Some episodes are already well-known: for instance when, in October 2009, the mayor of Musile di Piave asked the library of his town get rid of “politically-oriented” newspapers, namely “La Repubblica” and “Il manifesto”.

Here [in Italian] you can read the official reply from AIB [TN the National Association of Librarians], which has also taken an official stance [in Italian] on the “Speranzon case”. Another episode of censorship dates to May 2009, when a library in Genoa was requested to block the public initiative “Due regine due re” [“Two queens two kings”].

Back to “Em”, now. We are in the immediate aftermath of the broadcasting of “Vieni Via Con Me” [TN a popular TV show on the national channel RAI 3, featuring Roberto Saviano]. One of the library supervisors, vaguely embarrassed, tells his librarians about the criticisms he received from the Mayor (a member of the Northern League). More or less in the same days, the local Councillor for Culture has also expressed his concern: he has noted that one of the librarians is cataloguing works by Marco Paolini [TN a popular left-wing actor in Italy] and, as “Em” refers, “he has explicitly asked to be informed in advance of our new acquisitions, in order to give us his indisputable and binding advice”. The supervisor suggests opting for a soft line: to remove the books from shelf, just “until the dust settles”.

“Em” then asks for a written order, which will never come. Christmas comes, a New Year begins. Now, Saviano’s books are formally registered in the library catalogue: yet they are materially missing from shelf. Nobody answers those who ask why.

“Em” says: “I decided to write because I had to share my sadness with someone”.

I really thank her for this, and I invite more librarians to write, and tell us more stories. When the stories proliferate, and when they become a collective heritage, they also gain strength.

An update from “Il Corriere Veneto”: The Regional Councillor for Education, Donazzan, declares that she will write a letter (with the formal support of Governor Zaia) to all the Headmasters of the Region of Veneto (and through them, to all teachers), asking not to let the works of the blacklisted authors circulate among the youth. To those who denounce her act as a censorship, she replies that hers is not an imposition, but a “political address”.

English translation by V., Italian reader of Lipperatura living abroad.

If you can read Italian, check out this post on my Italian blog.

I especially recommend my story—ups and downs of a tumultuous love affair—as a comforting message to lovers and former lovers. Three unforgettable days is in the English language (translation by Laura Watkinson) and has been beautifully illustrated by Marion Bloem, who made my story into a miniature work of art.

• Order the book

See also:

• Matchboox
• Marion Bloem
• Laura Watkinson.

ABOUT THIS GUIDE

The name Mozart is synonymous with musical genius, calling up the powerful notes of The Magic Flute, Don Giovanni, and The Marriage of Figaro, reminding us that what is now classical was once revolutionary. But most of us don’t know that standing in Wolfgang’s shadow was another talented musician who played and composed at his side for many years before the two parted ways–his own sister Maria Anna, nicknamed Nannerl. In Mozart’s Sister by Rita Charbonnier we experience life as the other Mozart child, an equally passionate musician who, though eclipsed by the sun of her brother’s greatness, eventually found her way back to the music they both loved. This reader’s guide is intended as a starting point for your discussion of her story, Mozart’s Sister.

READER’S GUIDE

1. In any early letter to the Major Franz Armand d’Ippold, Nannerl claims to have given up on her higher musical ambitions, saying that she is “truly happy” with what she has and asks “nothing more, truly nothing” of music. Is this true? As she is courted by Armand, has she in fact given up on music? And if so, is it a decision she is truly at peace with?

2. Reacting angrily when Armand asks about why she doesn’t play anymore, Nannerl relents and tells him her whole story. Why? What do Nannerl and Armand have in common? Why is each attracted to the other?

3. How does her brother’s birth change Nannerl’s life? Immediately? In the long term? Specifically, how does it change her relationship with her father? Do you think she would have been happier had Wolfgang never been born? How are the two Mozart children alike? How are they different?

4. Sibling rivalry and parental favoritism play a huge role in shaping Nannerl’s life. Do you have siblings? What is your relationship with them like? Did you ever feel favored and perhaps unfavored by your parents?

5. On page 18, Wolfgang tells Nannerl that she won’t be a successful musician because she will have a “bunch of children.” Why does he say this? How does Nannerl react to his taunts? Is he right?

Leopold Mozart, the father (1719-1787). The portrait was probably painted by the artist Pietro Antonio Lorenzoni around 1775.

6. What kind of man is Leopold Mozart? Is he a good father or a bad one? Is Anna Maria a good mother? To both of her children?

7. On page 28 Leopold takes the violin away from Nannerl. Why? Is it his own prejudice against girls or simply a sign of the times? Why might the violin have been considered an inappropriate instrument for a girl?

8. Does Nannerl ever really fight for her dreams? Why or why not?

9. What is Mozart’s attitude toward his work? Toward Nannerl’s work as a composer? Do you think he was supportive of her talent?

10. After her father tells her he is taking Wolfgang to Italy but leaving her behind to earn a living for them as a piano teacher, Nannerl burns her musical compositions. Why? What does this action represent to her? This is the beginning of a dark period in her life. What happens to her and why?

11. How are Nannerl and Victoria alike? How are they different? Why is Nannerl interested in teaching Victoria? What does she see in Victoria’s experience?

12. Victoria steals a composition of Nannerl’s–the only one that Nannerl hasn’t burned–from Tresel. On page 145, when Nannerl discovers Victoria playing the piece she reacts badly. Why? Why wouldn’t she want her music played?

13. Why does Armand forbid Victoria to take piano lessons? Are his reasons in her best interest or are they selfish? What eventually makes him change his mind? Do his feelings for Nannerl play a role in this decision?

The Mozarts. Water colour painted by Louis de Carmontelle in 1763 in Paris.

14. How does life change for Nannerl when Wolfgang and Leopold return from Italy? Why are she and her brother never able to recapture the magic of their youth? Who would you say is responsible for their drifting apart? Nannerl? Wolfgang? Leopold?

15. On page 207 Tresel tells Nannerl that Nannerl only loves Armand because he is unhappy. Do you think this is true? Why would an unhappy man be attractive to Nannerl? Why is Armand attracted to her?

16. On page 211 Leopold tells Nannerl that she, not Mozart, must be the one to write his requiem mass. Why would he choose her?

17. Why does Nannerl start writing music again? To please herself or to please Armand? Discuss the events that take place at the costume ball. What does Nannerl discover about herself, her fiancé, and her student? How do these revelations affect her?

18. Why would Mozart seduce Victoria? Do you think sibling rivalry or spitefulness played a role?

19. In the end, Nannerl and Armand don’t get married. Why? What do you think of Armand’s reasons for breaking off the engagement?

20. What did Nannerl think of Baptist when she was introduced to him by the Countess and her mother? How does her opinion of him change when she meets him again nine years later in Sankt Gilgen? Who do you think has changed? Him or her? What draws the two together?

21. What does Ebony, the horse, symbolize to Nannerl? When the horse is injured and needs to be put down, why does she want to be the one to do it?

22. When Baptist goes to Herr Mozart to ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage, Leopold wants to give her the harpsichord. Why does Baptist refuse it? Do you think Leopold has regrets about his treatment of his daughter?

23. What is Nannerl’s biggest regret?

24. Discuss Nannerl’s meeting with Antonio Salieri.

25. Why does Mozart’s death inspire Nannerl to buy her children musical instruments?

Unnamed Sorrow by xchanttelx.

As we all know, there is nothing concrete to explain Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s early death (in 1791), and so, over the centuries, speculation has mounted. Last summer, streptococcus was mentioned, for the first time I think. Other hypotheses include nephritis, mercury poisoning and syphilis. It is probably true to say that, whatever the illness, it was the treatments administered by the doctors that led to his death.

Writers have always been fascinated by the mystery, starting with Aleksandr Puškin who, in his play Mozart and Salieri (1830) immortalized the idea that Antonio Salieri had a role in Mozart’s death – an idea that became massively popular thanks to Amadeus (a film I have already talked about here).

Some time ago, we started talking about murder again. But Salieri had nothing to do with it this time. Here is the disturbing idea that one of the readers of my Italian blog told me about.

Hi Rita, I wanted to ask your opinion about something I read on Internet which left me a bit surprised. The link [ in Italian] says that Mozart died of a brain haemorrage after being beaten up by the jealous husband of one of his pupils who was expecting Mozart’s child.

The day after Mozart’s death this man, whose name was Franz Hofdemel, maimed his wife with a razorblade and then committed suicide.

(As you can see we are once again looking for a woman to blame: “Cherchez la femme“).

The text goes on to say that the Austrian court covered up the scandal of Hofdemel’s death – he was a person of some standing as well as a Mason, as was Mozart. This cover-up job meant that Mozart’s body disappeared so that no one could find out how he died. It is believed the body was thrown into the Danube.

I am not saying there is no truth in this hypothesis, it’s just that I have never heard anything about it before. There was a mention of Mozart’s relationship with the wife of a famous man in Piero Melograni’s book but Melograni doesn’t say anything about blows to the head as the cause of death. What do you reckon?

Not much, except that it’s good material for a film or a novel (one came out in Italian not long ago). The official Mozart biographers want nothing to do with the story, even though it seems fairly certain that Mozart had a relationship with Magdalena, Hofdemel’s wife. But, unless new evidence comes to light, it will always remain a possibility, not a certainty.

However, if any of you are thinking about possible Mozart descendents, you can save yourselves the bother. Mrs. Hofdemel’s child, who was assumed to be Mozart’s, died in infancy.

More information available at this links:

• Mozart’s Death – Murder, Accident or Disease?
• Hofdemel child
• The Skull of Mozart
• Mysteries & Secrets – Mozart.

The term in French means ‘young man’ but it actually refers to a woman, because that was the name of the famous French pianist who arrived in Salzburg in 1777, fresh “from the big world outside, to make the city reel with the scent of high society” – according to one of Mozart’s biographers, Bernhard Paumgartner. Mozart was born in 1756. He therefore wrote this magnificent Concerto when he was little more than twenty years of age, inspired by a foreign “muse”.

Information regarding Jeunehomme stops here unfortunately: we know little else about her. In other works we find other references but most of it is hypothesis and little is known for certain. Who was this mysterious young woman? Was there some kind of romantic attachment between her and Mozart? Was she blind? And was she really called Jeunehomme or Jenamy as some academics have claimed? We almost wonder whether she really existed at all?

>> Read full article on Rita Charbonnier Online. Thanks!

(You may also listen to the Third Movement, Rondeau, and watch a video.)

The Fountain of Arethusa, in the Ortygia island. Photo by Leandro's World Tour.

It was twenty years ago that I first set foot in Sicily. I had passed the auditions and managed to get into the School of Classic Theatre which is in Syracuse. My idea of what Ortygia might be like was a bit far-fetched: people had told me that it was like a little island joined to the city by a bridge which, for some reason, I had pictured as a wooden drawbridge. Young and defenceless, with a rather bizarre imagination, I was convinced the place was going to be lush and green, a kind of savanna landscape complete with monkeys and baobab trees. The reality was much more exciting.

I started wandering round the baroque buildings and historical landmarks, enjoying these echoes of the ancient, sophisticated society that inspired them, and digging deep for memories of the myths this civilization produced. Myths which, as you know, responded to man’s need to control the uncontrollable aspects of nature – thus a natural spring, emerging near the sea, became a nymph that managed to escape the clutches of an over-insistent god. And that nymph was there, in front of me, living in peace.

I swam in the sea nearby and was amazed at the cold water that came up from underneath. I thought of the story of Arethusa which is a lovely metaphor for the way lovers each have to change before they can become a couple.

The Greek Theatre in Syracuse, Sicily. Photo by Allie Caulfield.

Acting in the Greek Theatre of Syracuse was an incredible experience. The performance would start while it was still light, so the actors could see every single person making up the audience however many people there were – they just had to look at them. Thus the audience become people, not just an anonymous mass sitting in the shadows of an auditorium. Those performances in Syracuse were an amazing emotional and sensory experience for every one of us.

Unfortunately it was all destined to come to an end. I started work with a company in Genoa and only went back to Sicily on a couple of rare occasions. I acted a couple of times in the amazing Segesta and visited the Doric temple on top of the hill where Aphrodite’s beloved doves still seemed to fly. I went to Palermo on tour and put on four kilos in just one week , the food was so irresistibly delicious.

Sicily recently made a comeback in my life. After fifteen years’ working in the theatre, I decided to direct my creative energies elsewhere and had started writing. My first novel Mozart’s Sister had been published and I had started work on the second. I also wrote scripts for various Italian television programmes. One day, I was asked to write for a new series, Agrodolce, set in an imaginary town on the coast of Sicily.

The series went on television and the viewing figures as well as the critical response were more than satisfactory but, sadly, the whole thing stalled as a result of financial and bureaucratic problems and power games, and blame attributed to anything and everything else – the kind of situation which is only too familiar to Italy. As I write, we do not yet know whether there will be another series or not – we are all hoping in a last-minute miracle. If the miracle doesn’t happen it will be a sad ending for the hundreds of people who will lose their jobs, and also for the stories that have been written so far. The narrative strands in series like this one last for months, years, and even decades, just like in real life.

Whatever happens, however, I am sure that it will not signal the end of my love-affair with Sicily. The relationship might have to undergo some changes – just like it did for Arethusa.

(Do you know Italian? If so, you can read the Italian version of this article on this page.)

Portrait of Virginia Woolf by George C. Beresford (1864- 1938), Victorian photographer.

Virginia Woolf wrote her famous essay, A Room of One’s Own in 1928 / 1929, reworking ideas from two lectures she had given to her students at Cambridge on the subject of women and literature. One of the most interesting aspects for me was the part about William Shakespeare’s imaginary sister-poetess.

Woolf states that there is a very close link between any artistic creation and the artist’s everyday life. The creative process is fed by sentiment much more than any mathematical or logical process. A scientist can work and get results regardless of his / her state of mind, whereas a work of art clings like a spider’s web to what its creator does – what time they get up, what their preoccupations or problems are – and the way they feel while working on the piece.

Woolf uses this to explain why there are fewer women artists than men, and far fewer women writers. She takes as her example the poet and playwright William Shakespeare and an imaginary sister of his who she decides to call Judith.

She analyses the family, social and cultural context that this sister, who was born with the same talent and the same creative desire as him, would have found herself living in. In England, in the second half of the XVI century, women were not given any kind of education and very few women knew how to read or write. They were more or less the property of their husbands, and were not legally allowed to have, or to earn, money of their own.

They spent their lives having children and often died during childbirth or of infections post-delivery. They would certainly not have been able to live a life of freedom in London like the one enjoyed by William Shakespeare when he abandoned Stratford and his wife – without earning himself the title of faithless husband or adulterer. And women were obviously not allowed to perform on stage. It would have been impossible for this sister to express herself. Woolf reckons that Judith’s levels of frustration would have been great enough to make her commit suicide.

As we know, when Woolf was alive, there was heated debate on the subject. There were people who believed that women were of inferior intelligence compared to men; people who openly declared that it would be impossible for a woman to create a work of genius like those of William Shakespeare. And some years ago, reading her wonderful, impassioned, unmissable and still current work, it made me want to talk about Mozart’s sister Nannerl… But that’s another story.

Photo by Sapphireblue.

On her blog A World of Words, Lucinda Byatt writes:

Thanks to Rita Charbonnier for drawing my attention to this great discussion among fans of Italian historical novels and four authors – at the moment of writing this, there have been a total of 428 comments!

It was a real eye-opener to discover the buzz of excitement created by Massimo Maugeri on his blog Letteratitudine when a few days ago he launched an open discussion focused on historical novels led by Andrea Ballarini, Marco Salvador, Cinzia Tani and Rita herself. Filippo Tuena, Andrea Frediani and Giulio Castelli later also joined in.

I couldn’t possibly translate all the comments that have been made, but Massimo launched a few key questions to get the discussion going:
1. What are the key characteristics of a historical novel?
2. What should be the aims of a historical novel?
3. On the contrary, what should it avoid doing?
4. How do you view the market for historical novels in Italy today?
5. And in the rest of the world?
6. Survey question – what do you think is the greatest historical novel “of all time” (the most representative of its kind)?

>> Read full article on A World of Words. Thanks!

This was quite an unusual book signing for my new historical novel La strana giornata di Alexandre Dumas. I was wearing an 18th century costume! It was during the 2009 Turin International Book Fair and it was so funny to stop passers-by, talking to them in an old-fashioned Italian! Oh, don’t be afraid: there’s no Italian dialogue in this video. Just funny pics and great music.