The Prague Sonata by Bradford Morrow

Author:Bradford Morrow [Morrow, Bradford]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780802189233
Publisher: Grove Atlantic
Published: 2017-10-19T04:00:00+00:00

Like some gone-native ethnographer, Meta found herself stepping away from the scholar’s role into the living world of the sonata itself. The recital, she realized, meant that she was herself becoming a part of the manuscript’s history. When she knocked on Sam and Sylvie’s bedroom door, giddy from her celebration with Gerrit and their good night kisses, the three of them danced like ecstatic children in the semidark, Sylvie in her nightgown, Sam in his boxer shorts, Meta with her coat still on. A drowsy note of complaint from David and Lucie’s room brought them to their senses.

“Why in the world didn’t he give you a chance to practice?” Sam whispered.

“I don’t mind. Anyway, this sonata seems to live by its own rules. I hope it’s okay if I make a couple of phone calls. I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“No problem, we’ll talk in the morning. Huge congrats and sweet dreams.”

When Meta telephoned Gillian and Jonathan behind the closed door of the piano studio, their reactions were wildly dissimilar.

Gillie screamed, dropped the phone. Meta laughed as she heard her friend enact the same celebratory dance, an ocean away, that she herself had just done with Sam and Sylvie. When Gillie got back on the line, she said, “I knew it, I knew you’d do it! Now listen, girlfriend. My birthday’s coming up at Christmas, so I insist you play it for me as a present.”

Meta wanted to point out that she hadn’t really done it yet, and might never finally marshal together the whole sonata, but allowed herself to be happily, tidally swept away in the moment, promising Gillie that one way or another she would come through with this command performance.

Though glad for Meta, Jonathan was less exuberant. “I guess you’ll be coming back pretty soon then?” he said, after offering congratulations. She changed the subject. If anything, the discovery would keep her in the field searching for the first movement, assuming Tomáš’s manuscript was, as she believed, authentic, and Wittmann hadn’t somehow beaten her to the other missing piece. There was, as well, the issue of Gerrit. Instead, she told Jonathan what Wittmann was up to along with the shadow man Kohout. This did get a rise out of him.

“You’ve got to call Mandelbaum and demand that he read his friend Wittmann the riot act. I’ll make the call myself, if you want.”

“Before I go accusing Mandelbaum of throwing me to the wolves, I ought to hear Wittmann’s side of the story, don’t you think? It’s not impossible that I’m being paranoid because I don’t like his friend Kohout.” She caught her voice rising and, remembering the sleeping children in the bedroom behind her, lowered it again.

“How freaking naive can you get, Meta? You already know his side of the story. These guys are totally in cahoots. They’re using your discovery to advance their own twilighting careers.”

“Wittmann’s career is hardly in twilight. He doesn’t need to filch other people’s scholarship in order to get ahead. He is ahead.”

The

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