Postface to 114 Songs

[ page ]Charles Ives: Postface to 114 Songs (1922)

TWO

POSTFACE TO 114 SONGS

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

SOMETIME in the first half of 1920, Ives jotted down a schedule of "things to be done" on the back of a page from an early draft of the "Postface" to r z 4 Songs, which reads as follows: t. Article far Eastern l. Jndewriter "Small Policies" (by Aug. ), 2. Prefaces & Sonstay for Schirmer (by July 25). 3. Finish and copy "Circus Day Band" (as soon as possible), 4. After x & z are finish work daily on ccrrectlng "Majority." 5'. Score :3 N. E, Holidays "4th of July" (anytime before Oct. x) 6. (correct) Presentation, Torts (Insurance). 7. Send %0 Alnendment" paper to magazines (anytime). *The Ikst edition of the Concord Sonata. (The "prefaces" were excerpts from Essays 11eore A Sonata.) q Ives sent the paper to the Atlantic Momkly o1 May :;.6, I92 % and cvo weeks later he sent it to The Outlook. [ page ]$ Address list for "Musical (Jou4e"of names to end sonata fte Oct. ot Nv.). 9 Select & cot 75 or 3o' ngs for pdnfigal t English words for me of de an (Oct. or Nov.). i$ ul� is a vMuable mmma of Ivy' projects during a crucial ri in his life. e last item ('Selt & coect 5 or 3 o songf') was not ken care of in October or NovemMr of :9go as Ives had hod, butin t92z , when the numar of ngs had grown to one hun& d fourS. The llection as privately printed at Ives  ense by O. hier of New York. While e volume has no prace, there am a nmr of Footnotes for iniviu ngs. What in most ks would have M a preface-a general dfipfi of the contra, d  efion of de mr's int of viewms up modesfly t e ve end, as a "stfe," so to ak (the xt has no eapffon, nor is it mtion in the index). pose. I nemous loquaciousness, is not-tbfie humor, d its M52derMg sx all would apr to �r e e rt of ba- ruiness Ives display at .e age  icteen, wh he remn �e back yard playing hdbl agains e barn dr while his fae's band cched past the hou playing his "Holiy Qui&- step" (s Cwell, p. z7). Ivy' adaptaton of "The Dbu News Maa's" induction to Life ig Dnary ("I have not tten at MI-I have merely cleaned hour"), while ssibly a ttue de<fiption of .e act o asmmb]g the contt$, is &cepfively casual. It is now genet'ally ad at his ng collection ia e richest one of by an erin com. The materials for the "Posfface"  e Collecon are: L A nmMr of rough notes and jottings (it is on e back one of .ese ges that Ives' $chMule is found). 2. A manuscript which  be designated as the first real draft. 3' A cond and final manupt. 4. A carb of the pt (p.  is missing) ade frm the final manu<ript (Item 3).

� [ page ] 22 Other Writings The version printed in the volume of l 4 Songs follows the final manscri?t and typed copy quite faithfu]ly. That version has been used here exce1t for the punctuation, which has been revised slightly. A few small mistakes have been corrected on the basis of the mannScripts, and occasional raftants have been noted. Items � and _3 above have been called respectively (in the Notes) MS. r and MS. z.

� [ page ]POSTFACE TO 114 SONGS GBEEK philosophers, ward- politicians, unmasked layrnen, and others, have a saying that bad habits and bad gardens grow to the "unintendedables"; t whether these are a kind of "daucus carota, TM "men," "jails," or "mechanistic theories of life" is not known-but the statement is probably or prob- ably not true. The printing of this collection was undertaken pritnarily in order to have a few clear copies that could be sent to friends who from time to time have been interested enough to ask for copies of some of the songs, but the job has grown into something different; it contains plenty of songs which have not been and will not be aked fox. It stands now, if it stands for anything, as a kind of "buffer state"-an opportunity for evading a question somewhat embarrassrig to answer: "Why do you write .so much --- which no one ever sees? " There are several gect reasons, none of which are worth recording. Another, but unconvincing, reason for not asking pnbtishes to risk their capital ot singers their reputation may be charged to a fleory (perhaps it is little more than a notion, for many do not agree with it-to be more exact, a lnan did agree wth it once; he had something to sell-a book, as I ternember, called, "The Truth about tThis word in MS. a was origina]ly "unintentionakles." It was crossed out and %nintendedable" was written in above the line. In e margin, the word "intendedables" i written. ' MS, 2: (most of our friends are too polite to add--"ever heat"7)..

� [ page ]Something," or "How to write Music while Shaving!") Be that as it may, our theory has a name: it is, "the balance of values," or "the circle of sources" (in these days of chameleon-like efficiency every whim must be classified under a scientific-sounding name to save it from investigation). It stands something like this: that an interest in any art-activity from poetry to baseball is better, broadly speaking, if held as a part of life, or of a life, than if it sets itself up as a whole -- a condition verging, perhaps, toward a monopoly or, possibly, a kind of atrophy of the other important values, and hence reacting unfavorably upon itself. In the former condition, this interest, this instinctive impulse, this desire to pass from "minor to major," this artistic intuition, or whatever you call it, may have a better chance to be more natural, more comprehensive, perhaps, freer, and so more tolerant-it may develop more muscle in the hind legs and so find a broader vantage ground for jumping to the top of a fence, and more interest in looking around, if it happens to get there.

Now all this may not be so; the writer certainly cannot and does not try to prove it so by his own experience, but he likes to think the theory works out somewhat in this way. To illustrate further (and to become more involved). if this interest, and everyone has it, is a component of the ordinary life, if it is free primarily to play the part of the, or a, reflex, subconscious expression, or something of that sort, in relation to some fundamental share in the common work of the world, as things go, is it nearer to what nature intended it should be, than if, as suggested above, it sets itself up as a whole-not a dominant value only, but a complete one? If a fiddler or poet does nothing all day long but enjoy the luxury and drudgery of fiddling or dreaming, with or without meals, does he or does he not, for this reason, have anything valuable to express?-or is whatever he thinks he has to express less valuable than he thinks?

This is a question which each man must answer for himself. It depends, to a great extent, on what a man nails up on his dashboard as "valuable." Does not the sinking back into the soft state of mind (or possibly a non-state of mind) that may accept "art for art's sake" tend to shrink rather than toughen up the hitting muscles-and incidentally those of the umpire or the grandstand, if there be one? To [ page ]quote from a book that is not read,^[1] "Is not beauty in muisc too often confused with something which lets the ears lie back in an easy-chair? Many sounds that we are used to do not bother us, and for that reason are we not too easily inclined to call them beautiful? . . . Possibly the fondness for personal expression -- the kind in which self-indulgence dresses up and miscalls itself freedom -- may throw out a skin-deep arrangement, which is readily accepted at first as beautiful -- formulae that weaken rather than toughen the musical-muscles. If a composer's conception of his art, its functions and ideals, even if sincere^[2], coincides to such an extent with these groove-colored permutations of tried-out progressions in expediency so that he can arrange them over and over again to his delight -- has he or has he not been drugged with an overdose of habit-forming sounds? And as a result do not the muscles of his clientele become flabbier and flabbier until they give way altogether and find refuge only in exciting platitudes-even the sensual outbursts of an emasculated rubber stamp, a 'Zaza,' a 'Salome' or some other money-getting costume of effeminate manhood? In many cases probably not, but there is this tendency."

IF the interest under discussion is the whole, and the owner is willing to let it rest as the whole, will it not produce something less vital than the ideal which underlies, or which did underlie it? And is the resultant work from this interest as free as it should be from a certain influence of reaction which is brought on by, or at least is closely related to, the artist's over-anxiety about its effect upon others?

And to this, also, no general answer must be given--each man will answer it for himself, if he feels like answering questions. The whole matter is but one of the personal conviction. For, as Mr. Sedgwick says in his helpful and inspiring little book about Dante?^[3] "in judging human conduct"-and the manner in which an interest in art is used has to do with human conduct-"we are dealing with subtle mysteries of motives, impulses, feelings, thoughts that shift, meet, combine and separate like clouds."

[ page ]t26 Oter VZriting$ Every normal man-that is, eveqr uncivilized or cMlized human being not of defective mentality, moral sene etc,-has, in some de- gree, creative insight (an unpopular statement) and an interest, de- sire and ability to express it (another unpopular statement). There are many, too many, who think they have none of it, and stop with the thought, or before the though/. There are a few who think (and encourage others to think) that they and they only have this insight, interest, etc., and that (as a kind of collateral security) they and they only know hew to give true expression to it, etc. But in every human soul there is a ray of celestial beauty (Plotinus' admits that), and a spark of genius (nobody admits that). If this is so, and if one of the greatest sources of strength, one of the greatest joys and deepest pleasures of men is giving rein to it in some way, why should not everyone instead of a �ew be encouraged and feel justified in encouraging everyone, including himself, to make this a part of every one's life, and his life-a value that veil] topplemerit the other values and help round out the substance of thd soul? Condorcot, ' in his attitude towards history; Dryden, perhaps, when he sings, "... from heavenly harmony, This universaI frame began. �. , The ddapason closing full in man"; ' more certainly Emerson in the "Over-soul" and [in the idea of the] "conmonheart" seem to ]end strength to the thought that this germ-plasm of creative art interest ad work is univerl, and that its ;election theory is based on any condition that has to do with universal encouragement�Encourage ment here is taken in fire broad sense of' something akin to unpreju- diced and intelligent examinatlo,, to sympady and unconscious in- fiuence-a thing felt rather than seen. The problem of direct encouragement is more complex and exciting but not as fundamental or important, It seems to the writer that the attempts to stimulate interest by elaborate systems of contests, prizes, etc., are a little over- &fie nowadays. Somathing uf real benefit to art may be accomplished  Concerning this reference to Plotinus and one In Essays Before A Sonata, see Note 6. a.5.I, I. A. N, Caritat, Marquis de Condorcot (zY43-794). The attkude Ives r�ers to is tha: shown inhis Esqmse dh*n tableau hitoriqu* de de t'eslt humsin. The work attempts to thow the continuous progress of the human race on the path to ultiraate perfection. b Jo[l Dyden, "A Song [or qt. Cecilia's Day

� [ page ]in this way, but perhaps the prizes may do the donors more good than the donatees. Possibly the pleasure and atisfaction of the former in hay/ns done what they consider a good deed may be far greater than the improvement in the quality of the Jatter's work. tn fact, the � process may have an enervating effect upon fle latter-it may produce more Roderick k'ludsons  than Beethovens. Perhaps something of greater value could be caught without this kind of beit. a Perhaps the chie� value o17 the plan to establish a "course at Rome" to raise the standard of American music (or the standard of American composers- which is it?) may be in finding a man strong enough to survive it. To see the sunrise a man has but to get up early, and he can always have Bach in his pocket. For the amount of a month's wages, a grocery clerk can receive "personal instruction" from Beethoven and other ling "conservatorits." Possibly, the more our composer accepts from his patrons, "eZ vl.,:' the less he will accept from /-;i*nsel/. It may be possible that a month in a "Kansas wheat field" will do more for him than three years in Rome. It may be that many men-perhaps some o genius (if you won't admit that all axe geniuses)-have been started on the downward path of subsidy by trying m write a thom sand-dollar prize poem or a ten-thousand-dollar prize opeca. How many masterpieces have been prevented from blossoming in this way? A cocktail will make a man eat more but will no= give him a healthy, normal appetite (if he had not that already). If a bishop should offer a "prize ]iviog" to the curate who will love God the hardest for ill' teen days, whoever gets the prize would love God the least--probably. Such stimulants, it strikes us, tend to industrialize art rather than develop a spiritual sturdlness-a sturdiness which Mr. Sedgwick says shows itself in a close union between spiritual life and the ordinary business of life, against spiritual feeMeness, which shows itself in the separation of the two. And for the most of us, we llieve, this sturdiness would be encouraged by anything that will keep or help us keep a normal balance Netween the spiritual life and the ordinary life. If for every thousand dollar prize a potato field be substituted, so that these candidates of Clio can dig a little in real life, perchance e Weakcharactered artist who studied abroad, in Heay James' novel, Roderlck Hxtdson (  876). a The remainder of i paragraph, excepting the last entence, is from Essays Before A Sonata, lop. 9:-94.

� [ page ] zS Odr Wrg dig up a namraI inspiration, art's air might be a little crearer-a little freer from certain traditional delusions: for instance, tha free thought d free love always gb m the same cal,-that ae5phexe and gence are synonymous. To qote Thoreau incorrectly: "When haif- dg talk, Ge ds wak " Everyone should have e opportuni ok not being overnflueaced. But these unpopular convichons ould

• m"On e donne rea si liralement que s con,ils."

A neces, part of this part of progressive evolution (for they tell us now tat evolution is not always progressive) is at eve one should be a fe as pzsgible to encourage e one, including him- mf, to work and m be willing to work where is interest directs, stand and be 11iug to stand unprotected from all the howers of the abralute which may beat un him, m u or learn to use, or at least m be onefilial of trying to urn, whamver he can of any and all lessons �f the infinite which humani has received and rrown to him, that nature has eosed and crific for him, that he and deat have translated fur him? until the pructs ef his labor shall beat around and Grough his ordxna work--shall strengthen, iden, and deepen all his sends, aspiratien or whatever the innate wer and impuls may be called, which d has given man. Erecting from a mule to an oak whi& nature has given life has a right to that life, aud a right to throw nta that life all tbe value can. Wheer tey be approved by a human miad or en th a human eye is no concern of that right. The right of a tree, wherever it stands, is m grow as tmng and as beautiful as it can whether en or unseen, whether made immortal by a Turner, or anslated into a part of Seraphic architecture or a kitchen table. The instinctive and proegslve interest of eve- man in art, we am willing to am with no qualification, will go on and on, ever fulfilling hog, ev building new ones, ever oning new horizons, unti] te day will come when eve man while digging his potats i]l breathe his own epics, his own symphonies (oras, if he likes it); and as he sits of an evening in his backyard and sMrt s}eeves smoking his pi and watching his brave children in their fun of building their themes for tkeir natas

• See &e reference on p. 94. Still anodex source for this "m squote"

Emetson's em, 'Give All To ve," (IX, gV) which reads: "Wen [ gods go,/The gs rzive." t Freely quoted from Essays Before A Sona a. p, 92.

� [ page ]of their life, he will look up over the mountains and see his visions in their tealky, will hear the transcendental strains of the day's ym- phony resounding in their many choirs, and in all their petfectiou, through the west wind and the tree tops! It was not Mark Twain but the "anbury News Man"Z who became convinced that a man never knows his vices and virtues until that great and solemn event, that first sunny day in spring when he wants to go fishing, but stays home and helFs his wife clean house. As he lies on his back utder the bed-under all the beds-with noth ins beneath him but tacks and his past life, with his soul (to say nothing of his vision) fulI of that glorious dust of mortals and carpets, with his fingertips rosy vdth the caresses of his motherdn-law!s hare- met (her annual argument)-as he lies there taking orders from the hired git], a sudden and trenendous vocabulary comes to him Its poma, or is omnipotent, it consumes eventbins-but the rubbish heap. Before it his virtues quail, hesitate, and crawl carefully out of the cellar window; his vices even they go back on bin, even they can't stand this-he sees them march with stately grace (and others) out of the kont door, At ths moment there comes a whisper, the still sxnal/ voice of a "parent on his father's side""Vices and Virtues! Vices and Virtues! they ain't no seth things-but there's a tarnal lot o 'er," Wedged in bet'een the sewing machine and the future, he exaraines himsell, as every man in bis position should do:  "What has brought me to this? Where sin I? Why do [ do thi?" "These are naturaI inquiries. 2qey have assailed thousands before our day; they will afflict thousands in years to come. And probably there s no form of interrbgation so loaded witIx subtle torture-unless it is to he asked fo' a light n a strauge delft by a man you've just selected out of e Jaues Mntgomety Bailey (18411894), founder and owner of the Dan- bry News, writer of humorous sketches which made his newspaper famous. Since ives was bm in Danbury and lived there until he came to school and college in Nov.- Haven (t�, he mst ha'e read a g:ear deal og Batley' writing. h The above passage is pbably fvn a ewspapet sketch by Bailcy The passage -,'hich follows In quote is from the inodncficn m Lie  Dabry Being a Brie b Comerebbars Record  the Doings c a emarble Remarkable Man by the Ath, Jame M. BailS, "The Danbu New Man  (Boston, 873), e quofin is adapted to some extent. Fo e paa- sa, ee Note 64.

� [ page ]130 Other Writings seventeen thousand as the one man the most likely to have a match. Various authors have various reasons for bringing out a book, and this reason may or may not be the reason they give to the world; I know not, and care not. it is not for me to judge the world unless I am elected, It is a matter which lles between the composer and his own conscience, and I know of no place where it is less likely to be crowded .... Some have written a book for money; I have nee. Some I have not, I have not *vritten a book for any of these reasons or for all of them together. In fact, gentle borrower, I have not written a book at all"-I have merely cleaned house. ?ill that is left is out on the clothes line; but it's good for a man's vanity to have the neigh- bors see him-on the clodres line. For some such or different reason, through some such or different process, this volume, this package of paper, UlCOllectable notes,' marks of respect and expression, is now thrown, so to speak, at the music fraternity, who for this reason will feel free to dodge it on its way-perhaps to the waste basket. It is submitted as much or more in the chance that some points for the better education of the composer may be thrown back at him than that any of the points the music may contain may be valuable to the recipient. Some of the songs in this book, particularly among the later ones, cannot be sung,; and if they could, perhaps might prefer, if they had a say, to remain as they are; that is, "in the ]eaf"-and that they will remain in this peaceful state is more than presumable. An excuse (if none of the above are good enough) for their existence which suggests itself at this point is that a song has a ;few rights, the same as other ordinary citizens, If it feels like walking along the left-hand s/de of the street, Fassing the door of physiology or sitting on the curb, Mxy not let it? If it feels like kicking over an ash can, a poet's castle, or the proseclio law, will you stop it? Must it always he a polite triad, a "breve gaudium," a ribbon to match the voice? Should it not be free at times from the dominion of the thorax, the dia- phragm, the ear, and other points of interest? If it wants to beat around in the valley, to throw stones up the pyramids, or to sleep in the park, should it not have some immunity from a Nemesis, a Rameses or a policeman? Should it not have a chance to sing te itself, i MS. : (by celebrated' opexa s!ngers).

� [ page ]if it can ing)--to enjoy irse] out mains a w i it can't mae a bow�to *wire around in any n, ff i can im, out hang m Mlow "hk and i[" or ing unk by an omfic greyhound� If it haps m feel Dike ying to fly where humans nnot fly, sing what cannot  sung, to walk in a cave on a] fours,  to figSten up s gir in blind he and faith and  m male mounus at are nt, who shall stp iO -In o, must a ng ways  a ng!

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