上外版大学英语写作精选第六册(6)

    What money he could lay his hands on he spent like an Indian rajah. The mere prospect of a performance of one of his operas was enough to set him to running up bills amounting to ten times the amount of his prospective royalties. No one will ever know —— certainly he never knew —— how much money he owed. We do know that his greatest benefactor gave him $6，000 to pay the most pressing of his debts in one city， and a year later had to give him $16，000 to enable him to live in another city without being thrown into jail for debt.

    He was equally unscrupulous in other ways. An endless procession of women marched through his life. His first wife spent twenty years enduring and forgiving his infidelities. His second wife had been the wife of his most devoted friend and admirer， from whom he stole her. And even while he was trying to persuade her to leave her first husband he was writing to a friend to inquire whether he could suggest some wealthy woman —— any wealthy woman —— whom he could marry for her money.

    He was completely selfish in his other personal relationships. His liking for his friends was measured solely by the completeness of their devotion to him， or by their usefulness to him， whether financial or artistic. The minute they failed him —— even by so much as refusing dinner invitation —— or began to lessen in usefulness， he cast them off without a second thought. At the end of his life he had exactly one friend left whom he had known even in middle age.

    The name of this monster was Richard Wagner. Everything that I have said about him you can find on record —— in newspapers， in police reports， in the testimony of people who knew him， in his own letters， between the lines of his autobiography. And the curious thing about this record is that it doesn't matter in the least.

    Because this undersized， sickly， disagreeable， fascinating little man was right all the time. The joke was on us. He was one of the world's greatest dramatists； he was a great thinker； he was one of the most stupendous musical geniuses that， up to now， the world has ever seen. The world did owe him a living.

    When you consider what he wrote —— thirteen operas and music dramas， eleven of them still holding the stage， eight of them unquestionably worth ranking among the world's great musico-dramatic masterpieces —— when you listen to what he wrote， the debts and heartaches that people had to endure from him don't seem much of a price. Think of the luxury with which for a time， at least， fate rewarded Napoleon， the man who ruined France and looted Europe； and then perhaps you will agree that a few thousand dollars' worth of debts were not too heavy a price to pay for the Ring trilogy.

    What if he was faithless to his friends and to his wives？ He had one mistress to whom he was faithful to the day of his death： Music. Not for a single moment did he ever compromise with what he believed， with what be dreamed. There is not a line of his music that could have been conceived by a little mind. Even when he is dull， or downright bad， he is dull in the grand manner. There is greatness about his worst mistakes. Listening to his music， one does not forgive him for what he may or may not have been. It is not a matter of forgiveness. It is a matter of being dumb with wonder that his poor brain and body didn't burst under the torment of the demon of creative energy that lived inside him， struggling， clawing， scratching to be released； tearing， shrieking at him to write the music that was in him. The miracle is that what he did in the little space of seventy years could have been done at all， even by a great genius. Is it any wonder that he had no time to be a man？

    Phrases & Expressions

    in relation to in connection with； with regard to； about