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An Incomplete History of the Art of the Funerary Violin
During the Protestant revolution in Europe, a new kind of music emerged, one that ultimately sought to recognize the deceased and to individuate the sense of loss and grief. But the tradition was virtually wiped out by the Great Funerary Purges of the 1830s and 40s. Kriwaczek tells the fascinating story of this beautiful music, condemned by the Catholic Church for political as much as theological reasons, and of the mysterious Guild of Funerary Violinists that, yes, defends its secrets in our time. This is unquestionably one of the strangest books any publisher has ever risked publishing. Discussing the evolution of European culture, musical forms and society's changing attitudes to mortality and the emotional effects of music upon the soul, this is a dark and magical history.
224 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2006
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196 people want to read
About the author
Rohan Kriwaczek
8 books3 followersRohan Kriwaczek is a British writer, composer and violinist of part-Austrian descent.
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
July 25, 2011
Micro-histories are growing in esteem in both scholarly and popular reading circles. With authors like David Starkey and Erik Larson making historic events, eras and figures accessible to a more expansive audience, the genre is growing and new generations are becoming acquainted with an ever widening scope of the past events, both large and small, that shaped the world around them. This surge in popular history is undoubtedly what brought forth from the shadowy past the history of a tradition shrouded in mystery: the art of the funerary violin.
Acting Guild of Funerary Violinists president Rohan Kriwaczek scoured the archives of his mysterious organization to bring to readers a wealth of information related to the origins, activities and subsequent dismantling of the funerary violin tradition, painting wonderfully vivid portraits of the most vibrant characters to ever grace the guild, from the rakish George Babcotte, the guild founder, to the tragically Byronic Charles Sudbury. A violinist himself, Kriwaczek is able to give voice to a musical tradition not heard by the public ear for near to centuries. And the very best part is that not a single word of what Kriwaczek has written has even a modicum of truth in it: he invented it all himself.
The idea in itself can seem repugnant at first: an entirely fabricated history for purely fictional guild. What could possibly be the point? The very concept might even raise ire for those who read the book from cover to cover, only to realize after it is through that it is a fictional history. But while some falsified writing might be decried as literary fraud – as was the case with James Frey and his A Million Little Pieces debacle – Kriwaczek has instead turned the tables on both popular history and the literary tradition. An Incomplete History of the Art of Funerary Violin can be likened to the “Blair Witch” film series, with fiction written to be presented as ‘fact’ only as an element of the story. While never explicitly stated within the book, the idea of its less than factual origins can be found is subtle jabs at modern day history and quietly humorous and altogether unlikely scenarios – such as a member of the guild suffering an untimely death due in large to having tripped over an elderly cat – are
small hints at its being entirely fictional.
The major figures in Kriwaczek’s guild history present as major literary archetypes, and none so obviously as the romantic figure of Charles Sudbury, who is the veritable soul of the Byronic hero. Brooding, artistic, half-mad on drink and drug, Sudbury is an erratic genius of his craft. The heavily gothic mysticism attached to the performance and mythology of the funerary violin adds to its romantic appeal; the idea of young men dressed in pale face pant and black ribbons, cavorting in the graveyard with their violins after dark presents an example to be mimicked and mocked by sullen gothic teenagers for centuries to come. Added to the story is the idea of a forced suppression of this supposedly ‘dark’ art by the henchman of the Vatican, who employ violence and thievery to scrub out the existence of the funerary violin tradition entirely. Subsequent denials of such activity by the Church present no cause for disbelief, and it falls well into place within the narrative.
The only real problem of the book comes from the music itself. All feigned positions in fictional guilds aside, Rohan Kriwaczek is a musician, and he writes as a musician. Technical language regarding musical composition can be lost on the unlearned reader, and large portions of the text consist of such technical writing. The treasure trove of ‘lost’ guild music – more likely than not compositions by Kriwaczek himself – would be a welcome treat to a musician, but, again, to those who are spectators rather than performers in the realm of music, they are all but useless.
Overall, this is a very clever effort that, sadly, leaves publishers and booksellers alike unsure of just where to catalog it. It is not straight fiction, nor is it really history. The only that can be said for certain is that it is a fascinating read; we can only hope that Kriwaczek shall treat us with some future rediscovered history of his captivating Guild.
Acting Guild of Funerary Violinists president Rohan Kriwaczek scoured the archives of his mysterious organization to bring to readers a wealth of information related to the origins, activities and subsequent dismantling of the funerary violin tradition, painting wonderfully vivid portraits of the most vibrant characters to ever grace the guild, from the rakish George Babcotte, the guild founder, to the tragically Byronic Charles Sudbury. A violinist himself, Kriwaczek is able to give voice to a musical tradition not heard by the public ear for near to centuries. And the very best part is that not a single word of what Kriwaczek has written has even a modicum of truth in it: he invented it all himself.
The idea in itself can seem repugnant at first: an entirely fabricated history for purely fictional guild. What could possibly be the point? The very concept might even raise ire for those who read the book from cover to cover, only to realize after it is through that it is a fictional history. But while some falsified writing might be decried as literary fraud – as was the case with James Frey and his A Million Little Pieces debacle – Kriwaczek has instead turned the tables on both popular history and the literary tradition. An Incomplete History of the Art of Funerary Violin can be likened to the “Blair Witch” film series, with fiction written to be presented as ‘fact’ only as an element of the story. While never explicitly stated within the book, the idea of its less than factual origins can be found is subtle jabs at modern day history and quietly humorous and altogether unlikely scenarios – such as a member of the guild suffering an untimely death due in large to having tripped over an elderly cat – are
small hints at its being entirely fictional.
The major figures in Kriwaczek’s guild history present as major literary archetypes, and none so obviously as the romantic figure of Charles Sudbury, who is the veritable soul of the Byronic hero. Brooding, artistic, half-mad on drink and drug, Sudbury is an erratic genius of his craft. The heavily gothic mysticism attached to the performance and mythology of the funerary violin adds to its romantic appeal; the idea of young men dressed in pale face pant and black ribbons, cavorting in the graveyard with their violins after dark presents an example to be mimicked and mocked by sullen gothic teenagers for centuries to come. Added to the story is the idea of a forced suppression of this supposedly ‘dark’ art by the henchman of the Vatican, who employ violence and thievery to scrub out the existence of the funerary violin tradition entirely. Subsequent denials of such activity by the Church present no cause for disbelief, and it falls well into place within the narrative.
The only real problem of the book comes from the music itself. All feigned positions in fictional guilds aside, Rohan Kriwaczek is a musician, and he writes as a musician. Technical language regarding musical composition can be lost on the unlearned reader, and large portions of the text consist of such technical writing. The treasure trove of ‘lost’ guild music – more likely than not compositions by Kriwaczek himself – would be a welcome treat to a musician, but, again, to those who are spectators rather than performers in the realm of music, they are all but useless.
Overall, this is a very clever effort that, sadly, leaves publishers and booksellers alike unsure of just where to catalog it. It is not straight fiction, nor is it really history. The only that can be said for certain is that it is a fascinating read; we can only hope that Kriwaczek shall treat us with some future rediscovered history of his captivating Guild.
July 23, 2024
I want to believe.
I would love to think that there is/was a secret society of violinists who play at funerals, a group that dueled with both violins and swords, that was eventually shut down by the Vatican. Alas, I could not be convinced. Kudos to Herr Kriwaczek for building a semi-convincing genre of music and musicians and for making it come alive. But when you aren't restricted by reality, and could really do a lot to build a world, he just fell short.
If you're writing a novel that masquerades as a history, I feel like you should have citations and sources, even if they are fictitious. The only citation Kriwaczek uses in the entire book is the results of a Sotheby's auction. He makes up titles of books but when it comes to referencing his "source material", the best he can do is talk about how such and such a document was recently discovered. This, despite repeated mentions of how most of the materials related to the Guild of Funerary Violinists had been destroyed.
And if you're going to claim to head up a secret society and say you're not permitted to talk about it, well, why are you writing a book about it and who is above you to put the kibosh on it?
I had other nitpicks; the voice of the various source materials being similar despite supposedly originating in different time periods and languages. The absurdity of the musical pieces included. Kriwaczek's website, which probably shouldn't count in a book review but if you're going to tout recordings in a book, I think it probably does count.
I still liked the book very much and loved the incredibly subtle humor as much as anything. But I grew up on the satirical fictional work of Peter Schickele and the composer P.D.Q. Bach who set the bar for fictitious musical histories pretty high.
I would love to think that there is/was a secret society of violinists who play at funerals, a group that dueled with both violins and swords, that was eventually shut down by the Vatican. Alas, I could not be convinced. Kudos to Herr Kriwaczek for building a semi-convincing genre of music and musicians and for making it come alive. But when you aren't restricted by reality, and could really do a lot to build a world, he just fell short.
If you're writing a novel that masquerades as a history, I feel like you should have citations and sources, even if they are fictitious. The only citation Kriwaczek uses in the entire book is the results of a Sotheby's auction. He makes up titles of books but when it comes to referencing his "source material", the best he can do is talk about how such and such a document was recently discovered. This, despite repeated mentions of how most of the materials related to the Guild of Funerary Violinists had been destroyed.
And if you're going to claim to head up a secret society and say you're not permitted to talk about it, well, why are you writing a book about it and who is above you to put the kibosh on it?
I had other nitpicks; the voice of the various source materials being similar despite supposedly originating in different time periods and languages. The absurdity of the musical pieces included. Kriwaczek's website, which probably shouldn't count in a book review but if you're going to tout recordings in a book, I think it probably does count.
I still liked the book very much and loved the incredibly subtle humor as much as anything. But I grew up on the satirical fictional work of Peter Schickele and the composer P.D.Q. Bach who set the bar for fictitious musical histories pretty high.
May 14, 2023
There are no perfect books, and this one does have its flaws. It's been a while since I read it, but I certainly remember how much I loved it, with its weird storytelling, subtle humour, and always leaving you on the fence about just how much is well researched history, and how much is complete fantasy.
Maybe 5 stars is nostalgia speaking a little, but mostly I think it's how much I always keep wanting to read it again - something that most books don't leave me wanting, and always warrants a 5 star for me.
May come back one day after re-reading it and change this review.
Maybe 5 stars is nostalgia speaking a little, but mostly I think it's how much I always keep wanting to read it again - something that most books don't leave me wanting, and always warrants a 5 star for me.
May come back one day after re-reading it and change this review.
June 23, 2020
One of my favorite books. The author clearly knew the historical background, and therefore was able to write a convincing (at least to a non-expert lime me) book about a non-existent art form. There are recordings online of some of the pieces the author composed, they can be quite haunting.
November 15, 2020
Brilliant! Fascinating, well-documented account of a lost art. I could almost hear the doleful dirges described.
January 5, 2023
A brilliant and witty piece of pseudo-history that includes some profound thoughts on death, consumerism, and music.
August 14, 2009
This book's worth a read if you've ever fancied yourself a goth.
Seriously. It's about the much-maligned art of Funerary Violin; the solo playing for the dead that was - until the church stamped on it - an important part of life. It's about the transition into death, the reminder of mortality for the living, and the persecution of an entire group of musicians at the behest of the Vatican.
There's more than a faint whiff of clove cigarettes and black felt about the book, but it is gorgeously produced; mine is hardcover and bears a number of lovely illustrations. In it, Kriwaczek describes the history of the Guild of Funerary Violinists - omitting, of course, the years when they were forced underground - with relish, and a fair amount of mystery. There's pictures aplenty and scores attached in an appendix, should any fiddlers wish to whisk the dead to the afterlife with suitable ceremony.
It's a great piece of musical reportage and history, except for one small problem: none of it ever happened.
But don't let that stop you. This is well worth a look.
Seriously. It's about the much-maligned art of Funerary Violin; the solo playing for the dead that was - until the church stamped on it - an important part of life. It's about the transition into death, the reminder of mortality for the living, and the persecution of an entire group of musicians at the behest of the Vatican.
There's more than a faint whiff of clove cigarettes and black felt about the book, but it is gorgeously produced; mine is hardcover and bears a number of lovely illustrations. In it, Kriwaczek describes the history of the Guild of Funerary Violinists - omitting, of course, the years when they were forced underground - with relish, and a fair amount of mystery. There's pictures aplenty and scores attached in an appendix, should any fiddlers wish to whisk the dead to the afterlife with suitable ceremony.
It's a great piece of musical reportage and history, except for one small problem: none of it ever happened.
But don't let that stop you. This is well worth a look.
July 10, 2014
This is the imagined history of an imagined art form: solo violin playing at funerals. Written in an academic style, it is a brilliant pastiche and as such is bound to make one smile: the writing itself is mostly dead-pan and does not attempt to be overtly humorous. The author fits his story into real events in the political, social and musical history from the 16th to the 19th century, which adds an air of verisimilitude to this tongue-in-cheek work. The book is handsomely produced, and is complete with period illustrations (some must surely have been specially concocted for it) and musical scores.
How the publisher's editors managed not to miss the cues of the deadpan humor throughout, one wonders, but they thought they were publishing a real esoteric history. The fact that this is all a product of Mr. Kriwaczek's fertile imagination is beside the point; it should have been real. It's wonderful reading and not to be missed! A book of fabulously rich invention and ingenuity.
How the publisher's editors managed not to miss the cues of the deadpan humor throughout, one wonders, but they thought they were publishing a real esoteric history. The fact that this is all a product of Mr. Kriwaczek's fertile imagination is beside the point; it should have been real. It's wonderful reading and not to be missed! A book of fabulously rich invention and ingenuity.
December 5, 2010
This is quite a unique book. It's an entirely fictional musical tradition complete with examples. I have a feeling I'd dig it more if I had the musical theory background to really *get* it, but it's still entertaining.
July 22, 2014
This is a super-cool book, sometimes the chapters can be a bit long so it occasionally drags a little bit, and it gets a bit repetitious at times, but it's fun and is a super idea, well carried off. Recommended!
March 22, 2024
My hats off to Mr. Kriwaczek -his playing and his writing inspire me. If you haven't ever heard this music look him up online there are even sound files on myspace - you will want the CD too.
January 8, 2015
I really loved this book. It's just to bad that Kriwaczek made the whole thing up.
August 2, 2011
I'm amused. I want to try playing the music at the end on a piano and see if I can at least get a sense of how it sounds.
April 22, 2013
I want to believe.
December 2, 2015
Funny book.
September 29, 2008
I don't want to spoil it for you...
July 11, 2009
Fascinating
July 2, 2016
To be honest, it was a bit of a slog. There were incidences of wit, but they were rare.
Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews