"L. E. Modesitt - Archform Beauty" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

Chapter 38 Parsfal
Chapter 39 Chiang
Chapter 40 Cornett
Chapter 41 Chiang
Chapter 42 Parsfal
Chapter 43 Cannon
Chapter 44 Chiang
Chapter 45 Parsfal
Chapter 46 Cornett
Chapter 47 Kemal
Chapter 48
Chapter 49 Kemal
Chapter 50 Chiang
Chapter 51 Cannon
Chapter 52 Cornett
Chapter 53 Parsfal

Chapter I Vienna, 1824



As the last notes of the orchestra fade into oblivion, the audience surges to its feet, the applause
thundering across the hall.

The tottering, wild-haired conductor remains facing the orchestra, as if afraid to turn, until the concert
master, tears streaming down his cheeks, steps forward and takes the conductor's arm, guiding him to
face the audience. The conductor finally smiles as he takes in the ovation he can see, but not hear.

But the smile that crosses the creased and pallid face is part joy, part wonder--and part horror that none
recognize or sense but the conductor, who is also the composer. Both horror and wonder are lost in the
applause that storms across the city, an applause that is darker than the night outside, an applause for
music that casts a shadow far wider than any know and for far more years than any could guess.

Chapter 2 Cornea



Synsil looked at me over the music stand that she always set too high, every Tuesday, as if to erect a
barrier between us. Her singlesuit had a pattern of angled stripes of cream and blue that made her look
thinner than she already was. Her eyes were dark brown, like a cow's, almost ready to fill with the tears
that her pride and family background wouldn't let her shed. After only a semester of teaching her, I was
more than a little tired of her need to always save face. She shook her head slightly, and her bobbed
black hair shivered.
"Synsil," I began slowly, standing up from the piano bench and moving away from the antique Stein way,
"you have a good instrument, but singing is not just talent. If you want to be good, you have to practice
more. You have to practice the way I've shown you." It was almost hopeless telling Synsil that, but I had
to try.

"Professor Cornett... I do try. It's just not fun." She rushed on before I could say a word. "I used to look
forward to singing at the Academy. Now, it's just work."