{"id":637,"date":"2004-04-21T09:57:53","date_gmt":"2004-04-21T16:57:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp\/2004\/04\/stalin_classical_pianist\/"},"modified":"2012-10-24T13:01:00","modified_gmt":"2012-10-24T17:01:00","slug":"stalin_classical_pianist","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/2004\/04\/stalin_classical_pianist.html","title":{"rendered":"STALIN, CLASSICAL PIANIST?"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Book critic Michiko Kakutani has the fine habit of writing accurate reviews. I trust them. The other day, though, <a href=\"http:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2004\/04\/16\/books\/16BOOK.html\">her review<\/a> of <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/tg\/detail\/-\/1400042305\/qid=1082598123\/sr=1-1\/ref= sr_1_1\/002-7829164-4332813?v=glance&#038;s=books\"><em>Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar<\/em><\/a> struck a weird note. Was Stalin, as she seemed to allege, a classical pianist?<\/p>\n<p>Quoting the book&#8217;s author, Simon Sebag Montefiore, she wrote:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>Stalin, Mr. Montefiore tells us, was a voracious reader of literature: his granddaughter remembered him reading Gogol, Chekhov, Hugo, Thackeray and Balzac. He calmed himself down by &#8220;repeatedly playing Mozart&#8217;s Piano Concerto No. 23&#8221; and took pleasure in cultivating roses and mimosas. Like Hitler, he was also an ardent film buff \u2014 among his favorites were &#8220;It Happened One Night,&#8221; &#8220;Mission to Moscow,&#8221; John Ford westerns and anything by Charlie Chaplin.<\/BLOCKQUOTE><\/p>\n<p>Literateur? OK. Anybody, even a mass murderer can fall in love with books. Gardener? Why not? You don&#8217;t have to be nice Mrs. Minniver. Bulgaria cultivates the world&#8217;s finest roses.Loves movies? Who doesn&#8217;t? But did Stalin actually play the piano concerto? Or did he play a recording of it? Big difference.<\/p>\n<p>Still . . .<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;m grateful to Kakutani for <a href=\"http:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2004\/04\/20\/books\/20KAKU.html\">her candid review<\/a> of Alice Walker&#8217;s latest novel, <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/tg\/detail\/-\/1400061733\/qid=1082598301\/sr=1-1\/ref= sr_1_1\/002-7829164-4332813?v=glance&#038;s=books\"><em>Now Is the Time to Open Your  Heart<\/em><\/a>. The review began:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>If this novel did not boast the name of Alice Walker, who won acclaim some two decades ago with <em>The Color Purple,<\/em> it&#8217;s hard to imagine how it could have been published. [It] is a remarkably awful compendium of inanities.<\/BLOCKQUOTE><\/p>\n<p>Kakutani went on to list them: &#8220;New Age inanities,&#8221; &#8220;feminist inanities,&#8221; &#8220;flower children inanities&#8221; and &#8220;plain old bad writing.&#8221; I&#8217;ve rarely seen such a withering review by any of the Gray Lady&#8217;s critics.<\/p>\n<p>Though I haven&#8217;t read the novel, judging by the silly non-sequitors I heard Walker deliver last fall in a vapid, rambling address to adoring Barnard College undergrads, Kakutani&#8217;s verdict must be on the money. Walker may have got one thing right, however: She named the novel&#8217;s heroine Kate Talkingtree.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Book critic Michiko Kakutani has the fine habit of writing accurate reviews. I trust them. The other day, though, her review of Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar struck a weird note. Was Stalin, as she seemed to allege, a classical pianist? Quoting the book&#8217;s author, Simon Sebag Montefiore, she wrote: Stalin, Mr. Montefiore [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-637","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-main","7":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbvgEs-ah","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/637","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=637"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/637\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=637"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=637"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/herman\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=637"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}