Somewhere
deep in suburbia, April and Frank Wheeler struggle with daily life, to the
point where the housewife devises an escape plan for the whole family. This
cautionary tale of domestic nightmare mentions two classical composers (Mozart
and Beethoven), swing era luminaries (Gene Krupa, Benny Goodman, Glenn Miller
and Artie Shaw) and a singer (Eddie Kantor). The text also mentions big band
numbers (“One O’clock Jump”, “String of Pearls”) and a song (“That’s the Kind of
Baby for Me”).
Music is
also present in the remembrances of radio shows from the thirties (“Bobby
Benson,” “Little Orphan Annie,” “Jack Armstrong,” “The Shadow” and “The Green
Hornet,” which doesn’t quite make it on the list). Although there is no
reference to music in this passage, it would be difficult to conjure up a
memory of a children’s program without hearing its musical theme (p. 191). In
fact, one of the book’s most vivid musical description comes from a passage in
which our two main protagonists are arguing while their children are watching
cartoons (p. 206-209).
The
characters’ relationship to music is generally passive. One of the prime
examples is “Holiday For Strings”: the music seems to blend in perfectly with
the oppressive setting of the bank as the employees of Knox (the company Frank
works for) wait in line to deposit their paychecks (p. 170). Frank feels he is
being dehumanized. The author uses the word “muzac.” Here, as in other instances,
background music is a symbol of the mindlessness of modern life.
So, naturally,
the music tends to be generic. It is usually playing somewhere in the
background. Just as the characters are vaguely aware of it, the author rarely
gives readers precisions. As mentioned earlier, the names of the Viennese composers
do come but the pieces, let alone the genre, is never identified. “A soaring phrase of Beethoven on the kitchen
radio” of Mrs. Givings becomes a trigger for a strange mix of emotions (p. 156).
Although there is a greater tranquility in the Wheelers’ kitchen before the
visit of John Givings, the description of Frank’s pleasant feelings is a little
disconcerting. It happens to coincide with some unidentified Mozart music, which
the radio is “dimly” playing (p. 182).
When the
characters try to engage with the music, the result leaves an impression of
inadequacy. Dances and rhythmic gestures lack subtlety and grace. When the
Wheelers invite their neighbors, Shep and Milly, to Vito’s Log Cabin, the four
of them become a curious display of energy. Milly’s dance with Frank makes her
physically sick. Alice and Shep’s jitterbugging is awkward, desperate and delusional.
In the next chapter, an exotic dance has the opposite effect it was intended
for, making characters even more vulnerable than they were at the start of the
scene. These efforts come too late in life: seduction at the end of a love
affair; catching up with dance trends that are twenty years old.
The act of
singing is just as perilous. The children’s rendition of “Happy Birthday” is “slow
and shrill” (p. 104). Shep’s big band impressions are ridiculous (p. 136). The
only time Frank sings, he doesn’t use his own voice but impersonates Eddie
Cantor to entertain Alice (p. 220). So, even at its most effective, singing is not
a genuine act. Moreover, “That’s the Kind of Baby for Me” has some pretty
cynical lyrics if one cares to listen to the song.
Follow this link to hear a mash-up of "A String of Pearls," "Holiday for Strings" and "That's the Kind of a Baby for Me."
Follow this link to hear a mash-up of "A String of Pearls," "Holiday for Strings" and "That's the Kind of a Baby for Me."
Yates, Richard. Revolutionary Road, Vintage
Books, 2009
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