Professor Burton’s approach to nine early works of Olivier Messiaen is not that of a musicologist, but is based on a deep knowledge and understanding of the tradition and writings of French Catholicism and also of the literature of surrealism. He prises open, in any number of unexpected and fascinating ways, the subtexts of Messiaen’s pieces which are often hidden, made up as they are of disjunct fragments from the Bible and theological writings. Burton finds that Messiaen is somewhat removed from the ethos of his time and place, partly because he takes no part in the social side of Catholicis ... More

Professor Burton’s approach to nine early works of Olivier Messiaen is not that of a musicologist, but is based on a deep knowledge and understanding of the tradition and writings of French Catholicism and also of the literature of surrealism. He prises open, in any number of unexpected and fascinating ways, the subtexts of Messiaen’s pieces which are often hidden, made up as they are of disjunct fragments from the Bible and theological writings. Burton finds that Messiaen is somewhat removed from the ethos of his time and place, partly because he takes no part in the social side of Catholicism that found expression in, among other areas, the Pétainist litany of ‘Patrie, Famille, Travail’. Rather than a ‘horizontal’ relationship with his fellows (or his family), Burton reckons that Messiaen instead enjoyed a ‘vertical’ relationship with God, which could make him seem unworldly and even uncaring, although this is certainly not borne out by Messiaen’s reputation as a charismatic teacher. He was necessarily formed by his culture both past and present, and Burton paints a detailed picture of the many ingredients that went to make up the art of this extraordinary composer. As well as reviewing the biblical and other texts that Messiaen handled with such virtuosity, he presents a wide conspectus of other relevant artistic products of the time, including the other ‘Tristans’ by Frank Martin, André Mary, Cocteau, Claudel, and Denis de Rougemont; and his picture of the terrible events of 1940 adds immeasurably to our reading of the Quatuor pour la Fin du Temps.