March 7th, 2009
Diary! I put up my first story on the website a few days ago and though it took a couple of days,
someone responded and said they liked it! The story was titled "The Pianist's Fingers" and it
is about a hypothetical meeting between George Sand and Chopin at a party of Delecroix.
I say hypothetical because I have some bad news as well which is that I have made a
terrible mistake in my writing namely that this was not historically accurate!
This would not be so terrible if the stories remained for me and me alone, but alas,
I have readers and thus this is is deeply embarrassing.
I recently checked out a book called "Chopin's Funeral" from the library which is
explicitly about the Chopin/Sand affair and it turns out that the story of Chopin
and Sand meeting is far more juicy and interesting.
In 1836, Franz Liszt and his married lover Countess Marie d'Agoult, return to Paris from
Geneva. Their relationship is scandalous, and according to the book they wanted to get the
public to gossip about something else.
Liszt and d'Agoult were staying at the Hotel de France, and invited Sand to come and live a floor
beneath them, which she did, and they had a series of parties involving other Parisian artists.
At one of these parties, Liszt invited Chopin and it was here that Sand met Chopin and become
smitten with his music, which he played for the guests.
Chopin had not wanted to meet Sand who he pictured as a lusty, cigar smoking radical, a woman
not to his taste. He was surprised that she was smaller than expected but apparently she
was very quiet as well. I don't want to reveal too much because I will be writing a fictionalized
version of this with more detail.After this, d'Agoult was determined to set up Chopin and
Sand and so she invited both of them to another, more intimate party, where they began to
actually hit it off. The whole thing is so romantic, an unexpected and yet unyeilding love.
Back to the time at hand, the person who replied to me refers to himself simply as Moricz,
which is the Polish version of Maurice, the name of George Sand's son. Moricz is a man, I
believe around the same age as me (fifteen) and he has written some fiction which I would like
to bury myself in were it not for this dispicable Honors English project about Beowulf
diverting me from my passions. Alas, I will read some of Moricz's fiction as soon as I am able!
What a mysterious individual...