Sullivan and Dickens

One man was a mere 20-year-old, a musician and composer of modest origins. The other, at 60, was one of the most celebrated writers of his time. Yet it’s not surprising that young Arthur Sullivan could count Charles Dickens as a friend.

Sullivan has been called a “born courtier,” so charming and delightful to be with that he could make friends with anyone. And his friendships with influential people over the years boosted his career amazingly – from his violin-playing friend Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, to the composer Rossini, to famous soprano Jenny Lind (the Swedish Nightingale). Even Queen Victoria admired him; she conferred a knighthood upon him in 1883 when he was just 41 years old – his collaborator W.S. Gilbert had to wait almost another quarter-century, until 1907, to be so honored.

Below are some quotes from Sullivan’s close and personal view of Charles Dickens that I really enjoyed. How much fun would it have been, to listen to Arthur Sullivan telling fun stories and gossip!

Sullivan and Dickens in Paris

Arthur Sullivan met a lot of prominent people through his friend H. F. Chorley, the eccentric critic of the Athenaeum. Towards the end of 1862, Sullivan made his first visit to Paris, in company with Charles Dickens, Chorley, and Mr. and Mrs. Frederic Lehmann.

In one of his letters from Paris, the 20-year-old Sullivan writes: “I am to play the ‘Tempest’ (with Rossini) on Friday…  We called upon Dickens, and then all dined together (the Dickens, Lehmanns, and selves) at the Cafe Brebant and then went on to the Opera Comique to see [Félicien] David’s new opera, ‘Lalla Rookh.’ It is very pretty, but rather monotonous.”

Note: Set in Kashmir and Samarkand, the opera tells the love story between Nourreddin, the King of Samarkand, and the Mughal princess Lalla-Roukh. Her name means “tulip-cheeked,’ a frequent term of endearment in Persian poetry. Lalla-Roukh was very popular in its day, but sank into obscurity in the 20th century.

“The particular purpose of our visit,” Sullivan later told his biographer Arthur Lawrence in Sir Arthur Sullivan: Life Story, Letters and Reminiscences, “was to hear Madame Viardot in Gluck’s ‘Orfeo.’ She was intensely emotional and her performance was certainly one of the greatest things I have ever seen on the stage. Chorley, Dickens, and I went together, and I remember that we were so much moved by the performance, and it was of so affecting a character, that the tears streamed down our faces. We vainly tried to restrain ourselves.”

Note: The opera Orfeo ed Euridice, or in English, Orpheus and Eurydice, was composed by Christoph Willibald Gluck, based on the myth of Orpheus. It’s Gluck’s most popular work. When the opera was first performed in 1762, Orpheus was sung by a castrato. However, it was revised a number of times over the following years and by the time Sullivan heard it, the role of Orpheus was being sung by the contralto Pauline Viardot.)

I really like Sullivan’s comments about Charles Dickens. Despite the fact that they belonged to completely different generations, the young composer clearly enjoyed the company of the famous writer:

“I went about a good deal with Dickens. He rushed about tremendously all the time, and I was often with him. His French was not particularly good. It was quite an Englishman’s French, but he managed to make himself understood, and interviewed everybody. Of course he was much my senior, but I have never met anyone whom I have liked better. There was one negative quality which I always appreciated. There was not the least suspicion of the poseur about him. His electric vitality was extreme, but it was inspiring and not overpowering. He always gave one the impression of being immensely interested in everything, listening with the most charming attention and keenness to all one might say, however youthful and inexperienced one’s opinion might be. He was a delightful companion, but never obtruded himself upon one. In fact, he was the best of good company.”

Arthur Sullivan’s personality may not be as generally well-known as that of his long-time collaborator and librettist.  William S. Gilbert was loud, vivid, irascible and opinionated, while Arthur Sullivan seems to have been more inclined to dissolve tensions with a sympathetic laugh and a clever story. But Sullivan was brilliant, too – and quite the careful observer of the human condition.

Which kind of person are you? Do you like stirring the pot or pouring oil on troubled waters? Leave me a comment and let me know if you’d rather be like Gilbert, or like Sullivan.