The Pianoforte - Daphne Coonan

July 28th, 1796

The pianoforte is a distinctive instrument because in actuality it is a string instrument while it looks like neither the strings nor wind instruments of which one is so familiarly fond of. However the comfort of piano playing is unlike any of the other instruments that exist presently. Of course I am always endeared to pianos because of their nature juggling both comfort and expression, a personal principle of mine. Without expression life is gray and meaningless but without comfort life is wild and incorrigible.  All of these negative qualities are what I indeed fear most of life. I have a heavenly piano; it is darkly colored and well used. It has not been tuned in years, however bringing myself to fetch the tuner to “fix” the obscurities of my piano seems nearly impossible. Why would I change something of how an instrument has grown and matured alongside me as I have grown and matured? Well, to say that I have matured is somewhat of an impossibility seeing as I seem to have come out the womb completely polite and understanding. However my mother has born follies enough to claim this as not true. Oh, she is the true source of all my happiness; her spirit and reserve bring me much joy. There is not another soul on this planet with whom I am not more well suited than my own mother. Of course there are still elements of her manner that vex me but seeing them alongside all that I commend of her behavior erects them hollow and inconsequential.

I really ought to visit the Kemberly’s so that I might use their pianoforte. While I do love my own it is always imperative to attempt the use of others. It grants appreciation of one's own flawed improprieties . These small knick knacks that endeavor to differentiate ourselves from the other. How I do love to unfold the layers of another’s character in order to acquire the smallest idiosyncratic knowledge of their self. I must to the Kemberly’s at once in order to procure the intimacies of their pianoforte.

It is now sometime later than when I last wrote, and I must tell you of the events at the Kemberly’s. As always they were most excited to see me and welcomed me to their home. They encouraged me to use the pianoforte, but as we entered the house we saw the most unfortunate man I’ve ever encountered. Of course you must know that I mean Mr. Jameson. We had been introduced last year at the Pembrolin’s Christmas party. Apparently he is the close friend of Mr. Kemberly and often visits unexpectedly just as I had. As I was arriving at the Kemberly’s Mr. Jameson was not but 10 yards behind myself in the most needlessly extravagant carriage I ever saw. There was gold plating along the sides of the wheels and an intricate floral design embroidering the carriage doors. I felt at once uneasy at having a more modestly plain carriage. Never in my life had I ever felt shameful of having a carriage but here I was at the home of my intimate friends feeling chastised by a young man of no more or less fortune than myself. Or at least as I had recalled he had no more or less fortune than myself; however, Mrs. Kemberly quickly informed me that he had recently inherited a great sum of money from the passing of his uncle, a man who had admired him greatly. Well, his uncle’s admiration must have been mistakenly placed for the cruel Mr. Jameson claimed to have not been introduced to me ever before in his miserably plain life despite our being introduced at the Pembrolin’s last Christmas party. Of course I now add the misery and lack of intrigue after having sat for tea with the man. 

I have never in my life experienced more dullness of manner from someone of such strong fortune and discernment of friends. As it turns out the bland Mr. Jameson knows quite a many  of those I consider to be the closest and most intimate of friends. It puzzles me that he could not remember our meeting at the Pembrolin’s not but a year ago. I assumed his forgetfulness was not on account of my excellent character, because I certainly remember the extravagance of that party and recalled that my manner was of the most sensational nature that night. It was quite unusual of myself but when Mr. Jameson said he had not had the comfort of knowing me I did not rectify his comment. I am unsure as to why I would not have reminded him of our original meeting but something in his manner seemed to prohibit me from it. He seemed so intensely withdrawn as we spoke that I could not help but pity his prideful and coarse behavior, but at the same time I found his character abhorrent and vain. As we entered the house Mr. Kemberly pulled the young gentleman ahead alongside him as Mrs. Kemberly and I followed behind the two. While walking inside the splendid manor I found Mr. Jameson frequently glancing backwards at us ladies which was in no doubt an effort in his mind to place where he knew me from. I found this exceedingly ignorant and as I walked closely with Mrs. Kemberly I wished I had exposed his forgetful nature when I had the chance. Alas it was too late and to have done so at that moment would have made the error my fault as well as his, which I could not stand for. So I stayed silent. 

Finally we arrived at the pianoforte: a lonely but intensely lovely creature, the Kemberly’s piano stood graciously out of the way of the room, not wishing to remain the center of elegance in the room. However the modesty that echoed in the piano's placement encouraged its beauty and fashion. Sadly with the stern Mr. Jameson now in our party I felt that learning the intricacies of the Kemberly’s pianoforte would have to wait until another visit, for a new character was to be determined today. Silently I expressed my apologies to the gracious host of the room and defended what would come off as my lack of interest in her character. The piano of course accepted this atonement with poise and wit replying that she understood greatly the cost of my manner and encouraged my discovering the manner of this most perplexing gentleman. 

Unfortunately for the remainder of my time at the Kemberly’s Mr. Jameson stayed uncommonly quiet, instead nodding and offering small injections of conversation such as “Indeed” or “I had believed it to be true” His manner has most perplexed and vexed me all this while that as I write this I am only further discomforted by it. Truly the most unnerving of men is this Mr. Jameson. I hope I must never have to interact with him again.

January 13th, 1797

I have the most disturbing news to relate: while visiting the Pembrolin’s, whose lack of pianoforte I always find unfortunate, the perturbing Mr. Jameson arrived whilst I was already having a small afternoon tea alongside my good friends. I felt urged to stay despite my malaise for the intolerable Mr. Jameson. We were dining in the Pembrolin’s excellent garden when Mr. Jameson joined us. Unfortunately due to the undying love of Mr. and Mrs. Pembrolin I was forced to sit next to the incredibly tedious Mr. Jameson, and I was surprised by his continuance to not remember me. Again I was riled; for we had shared a tea very similar to this one not even seven months prior. I began to silently question the sanity of the gentleman. Still I did not reveal him for his ignorance. Why I did not I could not give you the smallest clue; for I have not a single inclination as to my behavior when faced with the negligence of this man. 

I therefore fear that I may care for the gentleman, which I find most unsatisfactory due to my otherwise contempt for his character. The rest of the teatime I could not concern myself with the follies of conversation and kept mute, instead preferring nods and smiles to acknowledge myself. To be sure the gentleman is handsome and it would not be uncommon for a lady to be taken with his appearance, but I had always considered myself a less shallow being filled with more interest in character rather than looks. Of course he is in possession of a great fortune, but again I had thought myself more profound than to consider someone amiable based solely on their fortune. Perhaps the answer for my affection lies in the night of our first meeting. I will therefore recount the story in order to reminisce upon my feelings.

If I remember correctly there was a great storm of snow the previous night that had left the party in dangerous circumstance. However the Pembrolins are not ones to cancel festivity simply because of poor weather. The party would continue, but only on the account that the manor would be open to guests should they feel unsafe in their return. Of course I knew that mother and I would have to go seeing as to our  close acquaintance with the Pembrolins, but this had not bothered me. For although they had no pianoforte I had always found their expression of endearment for their partner to be most admirable. My father however feared the storm and refused to endanger himself for the simplicity of an acceptable time. So he sent lines of apology alongside my mother and I for his absence and encouraged the Pembrolins to guard our safety for the night.

When I met Mr. Jameson I cannot pretend that I was not struck by his appealing appearance but I remember being discomforted by his lack of charming and good-natured spirit. I believe the whole night he never once smiled. No I have perjured myself; I saw him smile only once, when the Pembrolins asked of the piano. Oh my! It has all come back to me, how could I be so foolish in forgetting such a magnificent comment? All this time I had thought his ignorance to be cruel but it is I who has been negligent. When asked about the piano Mr. Jameson replied that he felt such instruments held more personality than many of the men at the party that very night. Everyone around him laughed and smiled but I felt shock because I believed the very same thing to be true. I inquired after Mr. Jameson “And do you find their character more or less pleasing than your own?” to which he replied “I have never found anyone with character equal to an instrument’s.” I then responded inquiring after the personalities he saw within the variety of instruments asking first of the woodwinds, “Oh I find them to be very agreeable, certainly more lively than most other instruments. Perfectly well suited for any occasion.” then after the strings, “Oh the beauty a stringed ornament possesses! Such melancholic instruments often I find. However the power they wield is something fearsome to behold.” than lastly of the pianoforte; “Nothing pleases me more than listening to a pianoforte’s tune. I have never beheld an instrument with such an acute ability to inspire expression. Nothing is quite so beautiful as the playing of a pianoforte, it is the friend one never forgets.” Oh how foolish I have been to dismiss him! He is certainly not as I thought him to be. His character is not prideful or vain but observant and modest. He is polite and reserved, not coarse or abhorrent. How could I have allowed such a character to go unnoticed as he met with me time and time again? Of course he must have thought me to be indifferent as I allowed his posture of forgetfulness to continue, one so observant would never forget such a discussion of character. I must away to him at once before it is too late and I have forever made myself a fool!

January 14th, 1797

What a splendid turn of events! After I left the house in search of Mr. Jameson I discovered that he was at the Kemberly’s using their very handsome pianoforte. I marveled at how appropriate it was that I should speak to him next to such a charming character. When I arrived at the Kemberly's I asked Mrs. Kemberly if I might enjoy an audience with Mr. Jameson alone to talk about a matter most personal. She of course obliged but inquired after the matter with which I had to speak to Mr. Jameson. I responded that I could not tell her at present but I would disclose as soon as my feelings would allow me to do so. I burst into the piano’s room to find Mr. Jameson sitting most delicately and playing the most tragic performance of Joseph Haydn Piano Sonata Hob. XVI No. 49 in E-flat major. I had never heard such expressive playing in all my life. Immediately I knew that my feelings would not be suppressed and that I should never want to be apart from Mr. Jameson all the days of my life. 

As I stood shamefully in the doorway of the excellent room, Mr. Jameson looked upon me and jumped to his feet. The conversation continued as follows:

“I am most sincerely apologetic my dear friend, I had not seen you come in. Please forgive me.”

“I am most sincerely happy to hear that we are friends, sir. I had thought that you might not remember my acquaintance and character.”

“How could I forget?” He said this smiling most mischievously and I knew that the absurdity of his character was matched only by my own. I laughed slightly and asked if he might join me on a walk about the gardens of the Kemberly manor. He looked quizzical, responding “I think that sort of interaction might be seen as inappropriate for such friends as ourselves, being both unmarried.” As he said so I felt the smile falter from my face and I spoke that I had hoped by coming here to be allowed to speak with him in private of the recklessness of my behavior these past two years. He beamed elatedly and observed “I should enjoy that very much seeing as you are the only person I have found whose behavior echoes the greatness of that of the pianoforte.”