
The narrative centers on a woman named Olga Crawford, a violinist performing at a theater, who experiences a profound disconnection from both her music and the audience. Her performance is marked by a struggle between her artistic expression and the indifference of the crowd, which she perceives as a hollow reflection of life. The audience's varied expressions—somnolent elation, tightly laced impatience, and seraphic stupor—highlight their disengagement, further isolating Olga in her emotional turmoil. After her performance, she encounters the mundane reality of the streets, where the crowd's movement and noise contrast sharply with her internal chaos. Upon returning to her room, she engages with her piano, creating music that serves as an escape from her obscurity and the constraints of conventional narrative. Her compositions are free-spirited, lacking the rigidity of traditional harmony, allowing her to explore a realm of creativity unbound by expectation. The story takes a turn when a cobbler approaches her, expressing pride in his son’s budding musical talent. Olga's initial curiosity quickly turns to panic as she listens to the boy play, triggering a deep-seated fear of inadequacy and the weight of her own artistic struggles. Overwhelmed, she flees, symbolizing her retreat from the pressures of expectation and the vulnerability that comes with artistic ambition. The work delves into themes of isolation, the search for identity, and the complexities of artistic expression, ultimately portraying a poignant struggle between aspiration and reality.
By Maxwell Bodenheim · First published 1921 · Genre: Literary Fiction, Psychological Drama, Modernist · 1,441 words
Olga Crawford fiercely divorced herself from all expression as she maltreated her violin at the Symphony Moving Picture Theater. In its average moments of vivacity her face was a dissembling friar who brightly listened to her sensual lips, but as she played, her face became an emptiness profaned by the wail of her instrument. Her arms desecrated their errands and her head sloped into an unwilling counterfeit of wakefulness. On the screen above her men and women frantically guarded their hallucination of life and a decrepit plot vaguely imitated love and bravery. Rows of faces stolidly massacred the gloom of the theater and stood like a regiment waiting, without thought, for some command. But when one looked closer three expressions broke from the stolidity, as three major harmonies might charm the mind of a composer. The first was a somnolent elation -- the mien of a hungry person dozing over some crumbs he is almost too tired to eat. Shop-girls, with pertly robbed faces, became victims of this expression, although an occasional man with lips like determined fiascoes also attained it. The second was a tightly laced impatience -- the enmity of one whose feelings have been openly censored. Fat women with flabbily throttled faces and glistening men with bodies like bulky scandals received this expression. The third was a seraphic stupor -- the demeanour of one whose formless delights have benignly exiled thought.
Music is listed on Textopian as a short story by Maxwell Bodenheim, dated 1921 CE.
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Poetry · Modernism · Symbolism · Free Verse · Experimentation · Imagery · Sensuality · Romanticism · Nature · Emotions · Intimacy · Love