fiction, Chopin, Majorca, Palma, Valldemossa, tuberculosis, monastery, music ( )

Accompagnée de Frédéric Chopin et de ses enfants, George Sand passe quatre mois à Majorque, et principalement à Valldemossa en 1838 pour se reposer de la trépidante vie parisienne. Un récit de voyage qui alterne entre récriminations sur les habitants, les logements, le mauvais temps ou la nourriture dont l’exagération (ou la mauvaise foi) en devient presque drôle, et considérations géographiques et historiques moins intéressantes pour le lecteur contemporain. Mais quoi qu’il en soit, un texte qui rappelle de beaux souvenirs de vacances. ( )

Kind of tough to give this one a review score. On the one hand, if you’re travelling to Mallorca, it’s an interesting read because it provides a window into the island in 1838-39, when George Sand and Frederic Chopin stayed there for a few months in the attempt to alleviate Chopin’s health problems. On the other hand, George Sand is so damned annoying in her disdain for the islanders that it’s often difficult to enjoy. She refers to them as monkeys and makes sweeping statements about their laziness, dishonesty, and lack of culture. She complains about the smell of rancid olive oil and people who eat a lot of garlic. She shows not only the distasteful view of inherent cultural superiority that was common in the 19th century, but also just isn’t that open to new experiences or the joy of travel to begin with.

Just one example of that is a group of revelers who come to the monastery at Valldemossa in the middle of the night to celebrate Shrove Tuesday, and as they make music and dance, rather than enjoy what must have been a cool and unique thing for an outsider to experience, she reacts with outright horror, calling it a “hideous masquerade”, with music that is “so primitive and so harsh that it takes a lot of courage to endure a quarter of an hour of it.” Of the native cuisine, she says it’s “all so seasoned with garlic, black and red pepper and other corrosive spices, that you risk your life with each mouthful.” Of the monks at the Hermitage of the Trinity, she says “We found them to be the most stupid people in the world,” one of whom, simply for being very old. I mean, goodness, really? What a difference in tone we see when she quotes long passages from other authors who spent a lot of time in Mallorca and appreciated it!

If you ever travel to Mallorca, however, this book would be worth checking out. I liked the illustrations and learning about some of the history of the island, including the power dynamic of the politics and religion. Sand was there the year after an old Dominican monastery had been demolished because of its role in the Inquisition, and is clear-eyed in her assessment of the horror of the acts of the Church. She likens the conflicted feelings of destroying ancient buildings to chateaus during the French Revolution, quoting Chamisso: “Blessed are you, ancient manor, over whom now the ploughshare drives! And blessed is he who drives the ploughshare over you.”

While it doesn’t occupy a great deal of the book, she also has an appreciation for Mallorca’s natural beauty. “When the mire and fog of Paris depress me, I close my eyes and see again, as in a dream, that verdant mountain, those tawny rocks and that solitary palm-tree lost in a rose-coloured sky,” she writes. She also regrets not rounding a corner on a rugged cliff for another view on one of her hikes, because she realizes that’s it’s unlikely she’ll ever return (and never did). Who among travelers can’t relate? ( )

Went wrong after three months. Chopin suffered from the clammy weather in the mountains. Accompanied by a cold and distant behaviour of the local people towards an unmarried couple. My wife and me, as well unmarried, experienced at Ibiza in the seventies still the same mugginess. Sand’s report is an example of a wife’s clear vision and “voice in times, when women kept quiet”, said André Maurois.

(Kirjan kansi on englanninkielisestä versiosta.) Marraskuussa 1838 kirjailija George Sand ja säveltäjä Frederic Chopin tulivat lepeäilmastoiselle Mallorcan saarelle viettämään talvea, sillä Chopinin terveys oli heikko ja hän tarvitsi leutoa etelän ilmastoa parantuakseen. Mallorcan talvi oli tuona vuonna kaikkea muuta kuin leppeä, mutta Chopin sävelsi ja Sand kirjoitti. Kirja kuvailee saarta mielenkiintoisesti mutta asukkaita vähemmän mairittelevasti. Valldemossan laaksossa, jossa pariskunta vietti talven on upea luostari, joka yhdessä taiteilijoiden silloisen asuintalon kanssa ovat nykyään Mallorcan matkailunähtävyyksiä. Haluan lukea maista ja kaupungeista, joissa matkustelen, sekä ihmisistä, jotka liittyvät paikkaan tavalla tai toisella. Haluan tietää, millaisia kokemuksia muilla näistä paikoista on. ( )