"Oddly for a composer biography, this book is primarily concerned with neither Schumann's life nor his music. It's really more about his thought than anything else, attempting to make sense (and defense) of his Romanticism and to interpret Schumann's sometimes inscrutable compositions in light of his voluminous theoretical writings about art and music. (I suspect the original German subtitle�Mensch und Musiker der Romantik—does a better job capturing the focus of the book than the English subtitle�The Life and Work of a Romantic Composer—which sounds a more typical biography.)

Since I was looking for all the biographical details and musicological analysis, I was disappointed that this work didn't provide them. But the book did offer some alternative attractions, especially the author's resolve, which he maintains throughout the book, not to write Schumann's difficult-to-grasp ideas off as the ravings of a madman. Actually, Geck wants to persuade us, there is a lot of complexity and subtlety to Schumann's philosophical ideas, and understanding these ideas offers a key to his music, some of which is likewise difficult-to-grasp. I wasn't delighted by the cast of characters Geck brings in to help justify Schumann's thought—postmodern theorists like Barthes, Bakhtin, Adorno, Gadamer, Benjamin, Eco—a terrifying list I haven't encountered since grad school and whose work usually seems to obfuscate rather than illuminate (a judgment which, to make the situation even more maddening, would probably please those same writers). But happily the high theory only plagued a few early chapters, and then the book became more gripping—gripping enough to finish, even though I could already tell it wasn't going to be my be-all, end-all Schumann biography that I would purchase and keep forever on my shelves.

And the book did offer enough of a portrait of Schumann to drive my long-held admiration into love and devotion: for him, for Clara, and for Brahms. I have always felt a special interest in Schumann—partly because his Piano Quintet, op. 44 is my favorite piece—but I didn't know how literary a man he was (aside from writing poems, diaries, and thousands of letters, he founded and published his own magazine, writing hundreds of articles and reviews for it), how thoughtful an artist and friend he was, how devoted a husband and father. He was highly meticulous, idealistic, industrious. I found him quite a kindred soul. Of course I'm especially intrigued by the Schumanns' marriage and their artistic partnership (which is how they themselves termed it), partly because of its intrinsic interest, partly because of how it reflects my own experience.

This particular book's treatment of Schumann may have left much to be desired, but the subject did not disappoint, and I already have my "further reading" lined up: alternative Schumann biographies, editions of his letters and diaries and writings, a biography of Clara Schumann, reminiscences by their daughter, and a huge, enticing-looking biography of Brahms."