Evening in the Palace of Reason

by James R. Gaines

Johann Sebastian Bach created what may be the most celestial and profound body of music in history; Frederick the Great built the colossus we now know as Germany, and along with it a template for modern warfare. Their fleeting encounter in 1747 signals a unique moment in history where belief collided with the cold certainty of reason. Set at the tipping point between the ancient and modern world, Evening in the Palace of Reason captures the tumult of the eighteenth century, the legacy of the Reformation, and the birth of the Enlightenment in this extraordinary tale of two men.

Genres: History, Music, Nonfiction, Biography, Germany, 18th Century, Philosophy

336 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2005

About the author

James R. Gaines is an American journalist, author, and international publishing consultant who is best known as a magazine editor. He was the chief editor of Time, Life, and People magazines between 1987 and 1996 and subsequently the corporate editor of Time Inc.

Gaines is a graduate of the McBurney School in New York City and the University of Michigan. His career in magazine journalism started at the Saturday Review, followed by Newsweek and People, where he was named managing editor in 1987. He was both managing editor and publisher of Life, the first time that one person held both the chief editorial and publishing jobs at a Time-Life magazine. His reinvention of Life as a weekly news magazine for the first Persian Gulf War won widespread acclaim and led to his appointment to the editorship of Time, making him the first person ever to run three Time-Life magazines. All three won important journalistic awards during his tenure and undertook important extensions: a television show and books program at People, network specials and custom publishing at Life, and at Time a classroom edition called Time for Kids and Time Online. In his first assignment as a publishing consultant, he founded a brand extension in the men’s luxury category for American Express Publishing titled Travel & Leisure/Golf. Based in Paris, he has since advised publishers in Europe and the Middle East as well as the United States. He has four children, three of which reside with him in Paris.

Gaines is a member of the Council on Foreign Relations, the American Historical Association, the Society of Eighteenth Century Historians, the Overseas Press Club, and the International Federation of the Periodical Press.

Reviews

[Jan-Maat]

A while ago I picked up this book again with the idea of rereading it but was annoyed by something I read on the first page. This sums up my experience with the book which succeeds in tapping into my deep vein of irritation.

Perhaps this is a singular achievement, I was actually excited reading a review of this book in the paper before it came out and overjoyed to get it as a present one year, but the book didn't really work for me. I felt that there was a nice essay on the Musical Gift, perhaps a long magazine article, that was unfortunately extended, and that ultimately showed that the old Bach and der alte Fritz don't make for good parallel lives.

The basic problem is that their lives don't parallel each other, they are completely disparate lives, not simply on account of status and social role, but more importantly I feel, for a joint biography project in terms of weltanschauung, one from the small town German world built around the Luther Bible and constant hard work and productivity, the other fixated on France not just Enlightenment culture but also the world of Louis XIV and military glory as the raison d'être of kingship, these completely different lives happen to cross at one point when J.S.Bach in the Red corner and Frederick II of Prussia, in blue, met in 1747, an event that gave rise to Bach's Musikalisches Opfer. Bach, the most famous representative of a stream of central German musical life and the flute playing, war making Frederick II lives came together in this Musical Gift - a series of variations composed by Bach on a theme composed by Frederick (with possible assistance by one of Bach's many musical sons). The book as a whole is made up of chapters alternatively given over to Bach then to Frederick. The focus is biographical so we lurch forwards and backwards in time until we get to the brief meeting in 1747.

Having said that it's ok as an introduction to both men although why on Earth does the author think that Frederick II was bisexual - a man who sent his wife away from him, lived alone and had no children legitimate or illegitimate? Wasn't Frederick II at least as gay as the joint regimental dinner dance of the Gay Gordons and the Gay Hussars respectively wearing the skimpiest of kilts and the tightest of trousers? Or yes because one source mentions some hearsay about his youthful visit with his father to Dresden. Still this was not quite as idiotic as the history lecturer who assured us as students that Frederick II was not homosexual, he'd just been castrated as a child as a prophylactic measure against smallpox. As a result I came to suspect that this lecturer had probably played too much sport as a child. The material on Bach was for me more interesting I've found the number of times that I can read an account of Fritz's attempted escape from Prussia with the resulting execution of von Katte and find it interesting is quite low, Gaines doesn't bring anything new to the tale so I found myself slogging through all the Frederick chapters which were holding me back from Bach and had the effect of making me regret that the author hadn't written a full scale biography of Bach instead. And who knows, perhaps reading this book will make you as irritable as Bach himself as revealed in his regular scrapping with the Leipzig town council over matters of pay and prestige- it worked for me after all.

[Heather · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is itself a beautiful counterpoint composition. Its alternating chapters on Frederick the Great and J. S. Bach provide a biography of each man in such a way that they both echo and contrast each other. The biographical writing is full of interesting tidbits that make it pleasurable and rarely dry history.

Yet this is also biography framed by a single event. And while it was no minor meeting of these two giants, neither was it the defining moment for either of them. Still, this evening encounter and the composition it engendered form a perfect subject for the book's fugue-like biographies.

Beyond biography, though, there is much in the way of musical analysis. I wish I had had a complete collection of Bach's works to listen to each piece that Gaines describes in illustration of Bach's talent as I read about it. I was particularly enthralled by the explanation of the Baroque doctrine of affections. I remembered studying it in music history classes, but I had never completely grasped its depth. Understanding it as the musical equivalent of rhetoric was an "aha!" moment for me. And it made me fall more deeply in love with Baroque music than ever before.

All this would make Evening in the Palace of Reason a remarkable and worthwhile read, but it offers even more. At its heart, this book is a consideration of the question which is better: a worldview that includes spirituality and transcendence or a worldview that leaves room only for reason and humanity. Bach stands for the former and Frederick for the latter. Between them cuts the sharp edge of the Enlightenment.

I love finding historical events that encapsulate the spirit of their times and help me understand why a certain era tended the way it did. In this unique book, Gaines helps us understand not just one era but the bridge between two quite different eras, all based on a meeting between two men who wholeheartedly followed the tenets of their times. What the reader walks away with is not only new insights into history and music, but also a compelling urge to ponder the roles that rationalism and transcendence ought to play in our own lives. It is precisely the sort of true intellectual contemplation that should be the joy of every thinking human being.

[Andrew H · Rating 5 out of 5]

In 1747, Bach paid a visit to Frederick II. Not the stuff of dreams. Bach was a musician steeped in Lutheran history, in being German, and in old fashioned ideas such as how music could harmonise the soul. Frederick II detested all religions, was a German king that could barely speak German, and had no truck with spiritual values. Frederick II was a Philosophe, a francophile, who believed in reason and viewed the mind as a machine. Evening in the Palace of Reason builds towards this fateful non-meeting of minds and in doing so creates a double biography. Rarely is history a laugh out loud activity, yet Gaines makes it so: he has an ability to capture the absurd and analyse deep issues at the same time. On many occasions, Bach and Frederick II appear to have become surreal cartoons in the mind of Terry Jones or characters straight from a Python sketch. The Enlightened Despot's fascination with an automaton duck that "was able to fart and shit" like a real duck echoes Python, Swift, and Rabelais-- except for the fact that the duck was not satire. It was reality in the marble halls of Reason. This is a finely researched book that enthrals and entertains equally.

[Sasha · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm a pretty big fan of this book. It does sortof amount to the grown-up equivalent of doodling "I <3 BACH" on one's Trapper Keeper for 300 pages, but Gaines makes a good argument for Bach's genius, and I've always been a big fan anyway. (Although no one will convince me that the Ricercar is a total success, man. Six voices was too many even for Bach.)

The history is solid and the story is good, but what really elevates this for me is Gaines' descriptions of some of Bach's work. It's very difficult to write about music, which makes it surprising that so many people try to. Gaines really nails it; he makes you desperate to hear the pieces he's raving about (I spent several hours on the couch reading this book and listening to each piece as he got to it), and once you hear them, crucially, you think, "Yes: he's totally right about that, whatever, catabasis there." (Except in the case of his defense of the Ricercar. A for effort, bud.)

For what it's worth, the best writing about music I've ever seen is the treatment of the Trout Sonata in Vikram Seth's An Equal Music. I'm sure you were wondering. I don't remember anything about that book except that now I'm a huge fan of the Trout. (Incidentally, one of the many times I fell in love with my wife was while watching her play that piece.)

The essential question in Gaines' book is the difference between music as mathematics and music as free expression, and that's one that's fascinated me ever since Music Comp II when we learned all sorts of arcane rules for how to modulate between keys. It was extremely scientific; that might sound awful, but it's not...necessarily. In my hands it was pretty awful. Bach, on the other hand, was obsessively mindful of all this, but you don't notice it at all. Some think these rules - the dissonance in a tritone, the consonance in a fifth - are the secrets to the universe, no different than Einstein's E=MC2. That's bullshit, but it's really interesting bullshit, isn't it?

Added and weird bonus: this book also started one of my very rare and much-wished-for literary conversations on the T, from a New England Conservatory student of indeterminate gender. The bad news is that it reminded me: the sort of person who comes rushing over to talk about your history book with you is also the sort of person who insists on pronouncing "Bach" all pretentious-like. Just say it Bock, dude(tte?). You sound like the kind of douche who pretends to like the Ricercar.

[Michael Finocchiaro · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a fascinating book about the confrontation of the "old" Bach with Frederick the Great. It so happened that one of Bach's sons was cappelmeister to the great leader and late in Bach's life, he was invited to court and this book covers both Bach's biography, Frederick's biography and the incredible piece of music that resulted from the confrontation - The Musical Offering. This piece of music is the stuff of legends and inspired for example Gödel, Escher, Bach by Douglas Hofstadter four centuries later. I highly recommend this book and will say no more because it is actually a really entertaining story and I don't want to spoil it for you. Don't worry, it is a series of unreadable scores - just a cool story from history that can help you appreciate one of the great monuments of western baroque music.

[Pieter · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book focuses on an event late in Bach's life when he was invited by Frederick the Great to perform on all the pianofortes in his palace. He was asked—or rather challenged—to improvise a three-part fugue on the spot, based on a theme played by the king. The royal theme was fiendishly difficult and not well-suited for a fugue. For a six-part fugue, Bach requested more time. This royal theme would later form the basis of the Musikalisches Opfer, which Bach dedicated to Frederick a few weeks afterward.

This event is a staple in every Bach biography, primarily because so little firsthand information is available about him. Therefore, what little exists is treasured. Secondly, it’s notable because it gave rise to one of the most brilliant contrapuntal works Bach ever composed.

Initially, I was a bit skeptical. Since everything we know about Bach has already been analyzed extensively, authors often feel the need to take liberties just to remain original or relevant, especially when a book focuses on a single event. But I was pleasantly surprised.
Gaines uses this event as a lens through which to compare the lives of these two remarkable men while also providing insight into the zeitgeist of the time. The world was in turmoil.

In alternating perspectives, Gaines explores the backgrounds and life stories of both figures. I was already familiar with most of Bach's life, although Gaines does offer some unique insights. He allows himself some speculation but is always clear when he does so.
What I found most fascinating was Frederick the Great's story. His father executed his best friend before his eyes and nearly killed him as well. Severe physical and psychological abuse left deep scars on Frederick’s life. Yet, Frederick became a child of the Enlightenment, while Bach remained a representative of old Lutheran thought.

Gaines convincingly argues that the encounter between Frederick and Bach was more than just a curious anecdote. It was a clash of two worlds and two worldviews.
The exploration of these contrasting ideologies makes the book truly compelling. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a beautifully written book that will take you through the Age of Enlightenment in the time of Frederic the Great and J.S. Bach. Evening in the Palace of Reason is one of the best history books I have read. James R. Gaines focuses on these two historical figures and how they came to meet each other. Bach was asked to write a fugue for Frederic the Great. This book focuses on he lives of Bach and Frederic the Great with vivid descriptions of the time period and historical figures. I love this book so much.

[Davis Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

A quick and easy but deeply edifying read that is equally illuminating for newcomers to Bach, seasoned enthusiasts of his life and music like myself, and those who just want to understand cultural history a bit better. There are few people who won't enjoy this one. I really appreciate Gaines's ability to maintain a casual, conversational style without sacrificing the depth, nuance, and richness of the ideas and events he discusses; and though this book is far from a complete biography of either Bach or Frederick, it's a great jumping-off point for further study. In fact, this might be one of the first books I'd recommend to someone who wants to get into serious artistic and intellectual pursuits but is unacquainted with anything beyond the rudiments of history and philosophy.

Gaines, as I do, sees Bach as the last great representative of Western culture's classical view of the world before the Enlightenment and Romanticism wrote our history up to today. The epilogue is especially poignant as we are left to consider what we have gained and lost since 1750, and whether the last years of Bach and Frederick are really paradigmatic of the consequences of the views that they represent. It seems to me as if the examples of Bach and Frederick are really the two most basic options for how a human life can go. These options were counterfeited by the religions of Enlightenment and Romanticism, but both our subjects here lived before Kant came in and shuffled everything around to prepare the way for these idols. Bach and Frederick both recognized that the individual mind cannot provide ultimate meaning, and dealt with this truth very differently.

[Barry · Rating 4 out of 5]

One evening in 1747, Frederick the Great of Prussia summoned an aging JS Bach to his palace to perform a private concert and then proposed a legendary musical challenge—to extemporaneously create a three-part fugue based on a sequence of notes that was specifically crafted to stump him. Bach succeeded brilliantly, but then Frederick ridiculously raised the degree of difficulty by demanding a fugue for six voices. Bach begged off, requesting time to create a suitable composition. His eventual response became the remarkable and renowned Musical Offering.

Of course this book covers more than just a single night. It’s really my favorite sort of history book—one that finds an interesting but relatively overlooked event and then expanding from there. The story of this evening provides the impetus to explore the lives and times of each these two men. It then becomes a dual biography, written in counterpoint as it were, highlighting the vast differences of station and generations—and therefore philosophical viewpoints.

Gaines’ expositions contrasting the Classical philosophical view with that of Enlightenment Rationalism and Romanticism are interesting, although merely introductory.


Davis wrote a nice review:

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

[Kay Pelham · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book begins with the event referenced in the title, an invitation from Frederick the Great (1712-1786) to old Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) to visit him with, on Frederick's part, mostly the purpose of ridiculing the old man and his old notions of art. One of Bach's several sons, Carl, was currently in Frederick's employ. The event happened in 1747, three years before Bach's death.

Then we are taken through a walk through each man's life, with alternating chapters focusing on each man's story. Much of the background helps us to see how they became the men that they did, some of it simply being the time in which they were born. Frederick is very much a man of the seemingly godless Enlightenment, loving the French ways more than Prussian, much to his own father's consternation. Evidence is that Frederick was regularly emotionally and physically abused by his father. JS Bach, born 27 years before Frederick, was unashamed to acknowledge and glorify God in all his works. Bach believed in an ordered universe created by God, as well as order and rules in music coming from this ordered universe. One of the forms he often used was 'Canon', which has an original meaning of Law. All of this Frederick mocked, finding more appeal in the 'galant' style, which mostly had the purpose of entertaining and 'tickling the fancies' of the audience. Interestingly, Bach was such a genius that he not only reached into the past, but developed so many ideas that went past the life (and empire) of Frederick. Today who is Frederick 'the Great'? but JS Bach we all know.

"After the war [WWII, in which Hitler had greatly used the image of Frederick] Frederick's corpse was sent into the safekeeping of the last of the Hohenzollerns, who had withdrawn to a castle in one of the family's former principalities. There he rested for half a century, until the post-reunification summer of 1991, when Chancellor Helmut Kohl created something of a stir by attending Frederick's reinterment where he had always wished to be buried, next to his dogs at Sanssouci.....A poll conducted during the controversy over his reburial found that most Germans could not say when Frederick the Great had lived or what he had ever done." (p. 268)

"The beauty of music, of course, what sets it apart from virtually every other human endeavor, is that it does not need the language of ideas; it requires no explanation and offers none, as much as it may say. Perhaps that is why music coming from a world where the invisible was palpable, where great cosmic forces played their part everywhere and every day, could so deeply move audiences so far from Bach's time. Whether in the thrilling exuberance of his polyphonic Credo or in the single voice of an unaccompanied cello, in works extravagantly expressive and as intimate as a whisper, Bach's music makes no argument that the world is more than a ticking clock, yet leaves no doubt of it." (p. 273)

[Katie Schuermann]

Brilliantly engaging. If you are a musician, historian, or both, you won't find a better marriage of musical analysis, history, religion, and philosophy in a book about our beloved J. S. Bach. Perhaps more piano-playing journalists should tackle writing biographies of the great composers?

[Wojelah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Extremely - and surprisingly readable; I found myself reaching for (and ordering) CDs to get a better handle on the music involved. Bach and Frederick the Great turn into well-drawn characters, representing changing social ideas and belief structures without turning into caricatures. One of the best things I've read lately.

[Christina Baehr · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the best nonfiction books I have ever read, in any genre.

[David Dunlap · Rating 5 out of 5]

May 1747. A 62-year-old German musician from Leipzig comes to visit his second son in Potsdam, where he is a member of the royal orchestra, and is immediately summoned to meet the 35-year-old monarch. The King -- known to history as Frederick the Great -- gives the older man -- the renowned Johann Sebastian Bach -- walks over to the keyboard and plays a sequence of 21 notes, which he then invites Bach to improve into a three-voice fugue. Once this task has been successfully completed, the King then demands a SIX-voice fugue, which the composer suggests is impossible on such short notice. But, upon his return to Leipzig, Bach not only writes out the requested six-voice fugue but sends the King a series of canons and other works (some 13 pieces in all) based on the theme, sending them back to Potsdam within two months. -- Such is the basis of James R. Gaines's excellent book "Evening in the Palace of Reason." Although there are elements of dual biography here (in alternating chapters, Gaines shares the lives of King and composer), the book is more a meditation on two contrasting world-views -- one based on the tenants of deeply-held Christian faith, the other on the strict rationality of the developing Enlightenment -- at something of a crossroads of the history of human thought and belief. The final pages of Gaines's analysis of Bach's achievement, adhering to his faith in the face of Frederick's power-politics, are deeply moving and rousing. -- The author writes, for the most part, with clarity and wit. (I found some of the more technical explanations of musical structure a bit difficult at times.) I recommend the book to anyone who might find these subjects of interest. -- I must confess, however, somewhat to my dismay, that I found two historical errors: (1) The throne of England did -not- pass to the descendants of Sophia, Electress of Hanover, "after the last Stuart king, James II, died without a successor" (p. 37), but after the end of the -Protestant- Stuart line. (2) Charles Albert (Charles VII), the Holy Roman Emperor, was -not- "formerly elector of Bohemia," but was, in fact, the Elector of Bavaria (p. 207). (I always worry about finding such errors -- I want to be able to trust the authors of the books I read for complete accuracy, and, when I find mistakes of this kind, I begin to wonder about the reliability of everything else in the book! :-(

[Minte · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. The author is funny and presents information well and succinctly, and his commentary on these two men and their meeting, as well as their individual lives and philosophies, reveals wisdom and beauty. Fascinating read.

[Suzannah Rowntree · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow--what a book. Bach, Frederick the Great, the Enlightenment, the metaphysical underpinnings of Baroque music, and the Musical Offering. It's the kind of unbelievable history that seems more like something we wish might have happened but never did: Frederick the Great, a rock star of the Enlightenment, orders JS Bach, the Fifth Evangelist and the last of the Baroque contrapunctal masters, to visit him at his palace. He then attempts to humiliate the old man by demanding an improvised three-part fugue on an uncounterpointable theme. To the astonishment of the assembled virtuosi, Bach does it. And when Frederick demands a six-part fugue and Bach is forced to ask for time, the "Musical Offering" that results constitutes nothing so much as a comprehensive rebuke to the absolute monarch's entire worldview.

James Gaines treats his subjects with a lively scholarship that makes no pretence about neutrality and is often laugh-out-loud funny, when it's not moving you to tears. From the arcane cosmological mysteries encoded in Bach's craftsmanship to the melodramatic and gaudy early years of Frederick's life, he remains compulsively readable.

Without a doubt the chapters on Bach, his craft, and worldview were the most interesting. While the modish Enlightenment composers believed that music was intended only for the self-expression of the composer and the entertainment of an audience, Baroque composers like Bach saw music as part of the creative energy holding the universe together. Their intricate counterpoint was a musical embodiment of the "music of the spheres" and the nature of God Himself, showing perfect unity and order in enchanting and complex diversity.

Highly recommended, with a language and content warning for younger readers.

[Aubrey Amundson · Rating 4 out of 5]

The most insightful “program notes” on the music of J.S. Bach I have yet read. Mr. Gaines offers further understanding in the language of music, cosmological harmony, number theory, musical code, etc. specifically as it relates to the works of the greatest composer in the history of Western music, J.S. Bach. Every piece of Bach's music proclaims a sermon to the glory of God. He wrote music commissioned by pagan monarchs with obvious motifs that declare “there is a law higher than any king’s which is never changing and by which you and every one of us will be judged. Stand in awe of a fate more fearful than any this world has to give.” When asked to write a cantata for a German civic council for the purpose of glorifying the civil government he composed “Gott Ist Mein Konig” (God is my King) so gloriously they all stood and applauded at its end apparently insensible to the fact that the composition did not specifically mention or credit them at all. Bainton wrote of Luther, "The most intrepid revolutionary is the one who has a fear greater than anything his opponents can inflict upon him." This was certainly true of Bach. His fear and reverence of God exceeded any threat the world had to offer (Matthew 10:28), which is why his music is truly glorious.
I briefly scanned the sections on Frederick the Great; they are a complete waste of time in my opinion, unless you are researching the devastating impacts of Enlightenment philosophies and have time to read poorly written demoralizing narratives. Also, while Mr. Gaines writing style is logically coherent (for the most part) he uses grammatical slang. His worldview seems to be regrettably affected by humanism and fruitless attempts at neutrality.

[Saif Ali · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting work of popular history. Much of the music theory was lost on me save what I remembered from high school Academic Decathlon, but it is the constant juxtaposition that defines this book's worth. Gaines compares Bach and Frederick both as individuals and as representatives of the collision of their respective eras, living contradictions in a time when faith and reason - or as Gaines says, sensus and ratio - are beginning to battle one another.

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excellent book! A great history of two men that I've heard of but know very little about. I want to better round out my familiarity with Bach's music; I really only know the Brandenburg Concertos. I appreciated the analysis of the impact of the Enlightenment and Romanticism, as well as the contrast with Bach's (medieval) cosmology, which goes with what Lewis (and Tilyard, I think?) say about the Renaissance.

[Al Maki · Rating 5 out of 5]

By describing the meeting between Bach and Frederick the Great, its musical consequences, and by contrasting their lives, Gaines gives a portrait of the Baroque and the period that followed it, the Enlightenment. For me, it was one of the better biographies of Bach I've read and gave me insight into Frederick as well. Very deeply researched, very sympathetically and well written, presenting an understanding of the music deeper than mine. The book seems like a labour of love written by someone very competent to do it. For non-musicologists who want to understand Bach and his music, this is an excellent book.

[Beatriz · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 stars. The framing of the ideological confrontation and the biographical spotlight thrown on the two men are perfectly adequate, but as far as I can comment on sources (which I can only for Frederick, on whom I am much more educated than Bach) there were some inaccuracies which I can nonetheless forgive.

[Betsy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a fascinating way to look at the dawn of the Enlightenment and the setting of the Baroque, or what the author refers to as, "the tipping point between ancient and modern culture." Gaines uses Frederick the Great and J.S. Bach to, rather gently I imagine, define and contrast the two opposing philosophies. We are made witnesses to a deliberate clash, set up by Frederick the Great, to both humiliate J.S. Bach and vanquish the age he represents. But Bach turns the moment on its head and, I think, illustrates that the philosophies of the Baroque were not quite as dead as all that.

A quote at the end of the opening chapter set, for me, the tone of the story to follow: "...a world without a sense of the transcendent and mysterious, a universe ultimately discoverable through reason alone, can only be a barren place; and that the music sounding forth from such a world might be very pretty, but it can never be beautiful."

Rather obviously, Gaines is cheering on Bach's side straight from the beginning. But he is not unsympathetic to Frederick's history, either. In fact, I'll drop in a strong warning here: Frederick is badly abused to a horrifying extent. So much so that I think his father succeeded in breaking him. Reading about the abuse was hard. Especially knowing that this actually happened to an actual child. Escaping back into Bach's (relatively) happier life was a relief each time.

But, I thought Gaines handled the heavy material well. I came away with a much greater understanding of the time period and the two men and the two world-views they represented. Two world-views I think still shape much of our world today.

[Joshua Thompson · Rating 5 out of 5]

A concise and fascinating portrait of two titans in their respective fields, and how they met on one occasion. Despite a couple of music degrees, I have performed and listened to a lot of music by Bach, but have not read much of his life since music school. It was compelling to see his life, as well as Frederick the Great's- one of the most intriguing figures of his time in my opinion.

[Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is music history the way it should be written. Maybe if I'd been able to read this back when I was taking piano lessons as a teenager, I would have had a greater enjoyment and appreciation for those Bach Preludes and Fugues I had to play that I thought were pretty boring. :) I was intrigued by the distinction he made several times between "pretty" music and "beautiful" music - something to ponder as I listen. The personal and political history was fascinating, too, if sometimes rather disturbing (so much for "the good old days"). I'm hoping to find more books about music history like this one.

[Daniel · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved and hated this book. I enjoyed the idea of contrasting two contemporaries who have left a lasting legacy in the German identity. Unfortunately, the writing and editing were horrible and distracting, which is surprising considering the author is a career editor. Perhaps unsurprisingly, my local library system in a major metroplex doesn’t carry it. The book provides a fair amount of detail on both characters’ early lives but only a few paragraphs or pages on their later years. The quality seemed to progressively worsen with each chapter, as though the author had run short on time to publish.

I loved the backgrounds and descriptions of various Bach works. I spent hours listening to the pieces as they were discussed and loved it! I don’t think I’ve ever read a book this way, and I felt richly rewarded. I would say it’s almost mandatory to listen to the mentioned Bach pieces if you want to read this book properly. It truly brings parts of the book alive.

Because of this book, I fell in love with Bach through the Actus tragicus (BWV 106). The book also introduced me to the hauntingly beautiful Chaconne from BWV 1004, which “begins to sing a quiet song that speaks of a hope that is filled with pain.” I was reintroduced to the short, delightful, fun Goldberg Variations (BWV 988). There are several others I noted but will let you discover them to your delight. A minor but distracting editorial quibble: the book doesn’t always list the Bach-Werke-Verzeichnis (BWV) numbers, though they’re not difficult to find with a quick internet search.

I thought the premise of contrasting the worn and dubious dichotomy between faith (Bach) and reason (Frederick) fit poorly. I would propose instead that the Thee/Thou vs. It/Thing framework à la Schaeffer provides a better lens for contrasting these two Germanic figures. I found Bach’s evolution and engagement as a Christian humanist much more compelling. This was exemplified most clearly in his ingenious and shattering Fifth Brandenburg Concerto (BWV 1050), with its musical argument of the collective vs. the individual. In a way, Bach and Frederick converge here, only to part separate ways—Bach to serve society through the church at St. Thomas, and Frederick to serve the self, descending into an ingloriously gory and lonely nihilism.

Overall, an interesting read with an unfortunately very distracting writing/editing style.

[Emily Pulham · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was amazing. Honestly I wish I had read this as a freshman in college studying music, as it would have helped me appreciate Bach and his contributions to music theory, and I learned (or rather re-learned) a whole lot of German / Prussian political history along the way). Very well written and enjoyable.

I don’t give five stars to everything. The book must sink deeper than surface level to earn that from me, and this book wrestles with the questions of transcendence vs reason, using two historical figures of the day. So five stars it gets.

It is well written, well researched, and is going to keep me thinking for a long time. It’s also got a selected discography in the back so I can keep learning and reading to find and appreciate Bach more.

My favorite Bach piece has always been prelude in E major from WTC II. If I ever learn to play the piano, my goal will be to play this song. I don’t have a lot of composers for which I could precisely pinpoint my favorite song of theirs and aspire to play it, but such is the staying power of the compositions of the man who basically invented our modern sense of Western tonal music.

The foil for Bach, Frederick the great, makes a supremely compelling character in this narrative. I loved how it bounced back and forth between them.

I’m super excited to keep learning and may re-read this book again.

[Denise · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating portrait of two very different men whose meeting in 1747 gave rise to an incredibly complex piece of music charged with meaning and who very much embody the struggle of the Age of Enlightenment, namely that of reason versus faith, as embodied by Prussian King Frederic the Great and Baroque composer Johann Sebastian Bach. While I have to confess that I'm not the world's biggest fan of Bach (much like Frederick, I have little patience for religion and "church music") and some of the musical theory discussed in the book simply went over my head (it's a subject I last had any contact with in high school, and one I wasn't all that terribly interested in at that) and mostly found my way to this book via my interest in Frederick the Great, I found the biographies and legacies of both men as presented here to be highly interesting reading material.

[Vivian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Even if you haven't been musically trained or are not a history buff, you will be riveted by this story which explores the philosophical dichotomy which came about during the intersecting lifetimes of these two persons. Bach embodied the fading age of faith and Frederick the rising age of reason. Using the lives and works of these men helps to shine a light on these belief systems and explores why this even matters.

Now I want to plunge myself into a Bach fest. It was helpful to have my phone handy so I could listen to some of the pieces mentioned, and especially Frederick's "Royal Theme" juxtaposed with Bach's "Musical Offering".

[Matthew · Rating 5 out of 5]

A spirited and uplifting character study of JS Bach and Frederick the Great that is witty, detailed and readable. Bach's view of music was formed by a deep faith in God and a love of the Bible. As the Enlightenment took hold, his approach to composition was widely criticised and mocked. But by all accounts Bach feared God and respected the 'office' he had been given more than human praise and opinion, even that of the militaristic and atheist Frederick the Great. Inspiring history and a reminder that in the end, the humble will be lifted up. I learned a lot about classical music from this book and even felt inspired to try playing it again.

[Hannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

I simply love Bach and so I was sold on this book from chapter one. It was very readable, and taught me everything I know about Frederick the Great, since I knew nothing of him beforehand. I thought the premise of comparing these two men who met only once and who had two fundamentally different world views was just fascinating. I definitely recommend it, and now am off to listen to more Bach.