{"id":1511,"date":"2011-04-26T13:45:34","date_gmt":"2011-04-26T12:45:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.kent.ac.uk\/music-matters\/?p=1511"},"modified":"2011-04-26T13:45:34","modified_gmt":"2011-04-26T12:45:34","slug":"theory-of-analysis-jeeves-and-wooster","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.kent.ac.uk\/music-matters\/2011\/04\/26\/theory-of-analysis-jeeves-and-wooster\/","title":{"rendered":"Theory of analysis: Jeeves and Wooster"},"content":{"rendered":"

I love music analysis. I love understanding how music works: what harmony is being employed, how the tonal scheme is operating across a piece, how a particular effect is created tonally or texturally, or what structural principles are being used.<\/p>\n

I am aware, also, though, that analysis isn’t everything: sometimes, an emotional response can’t be reasoned in terms of tonality, of harmony, or of form. Ultimately, perhaps, defining one’s enjoyment of a piece\u00a0is a question of balance, of perspective: perhaps a true appreciation of music involves some elements of both an analytical understanding as well as a pure visceral reaction.<\/p>\n

\"\"And when it comes to perspective, P. G. Wodehouse’s marvellous comic creations, Jeeves and Wooster, are the yin and yang: Bertie’s pure enjoyment (unhindered by anything remotely akin to an intellectual understanding – one of his charms), and Jeeves’ clinical knowledge which admits of no emotional response at all\u00a0 (one of his).<\/p>\n

Their exchange about ‘Minnie the Moocher’ epitomises these attitudes, which you can see here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Priceless.<\/p>\n

I suspect there’s a Jeeves and Wooster moment for everything in life…<\/p>\n