Rock Me Amadeus: Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love Handel
By Seb HunterPenguin, NZ$35 | Reviewed by Simon Sweetman
SEB HUNTER’s self-effacing approach to the memoir was brilliantly realised in his confessional story of how he tried his best to be a rock’n’roll star and generally loved and lapped up anything – and everything – to do with heavy metal. Hell Bent For Leather (Confessions Of A Heavy Metal Addict) was hilarious – and spot-on. Hunter’s dry tone allowed him to mock anyone and everyone – particularly since he picked on himself the majority of the time. Happy with the success of his first foray in to book-length writing, Hunter has reinvented himself as an author. And Rock Me Amadeus sees this Bill Bryson of the music-scene still engaging with the world in his unique, observational way. This time he’s turned his attention to a higher art form: Classical music.
Hunter knows music and music fans well – but he admits to being a classical neophyte when he started on this literary journey. Two years in the making, Hunter buries his rock albums, ditches his stack of Dylan vinyl, stops listening to Led Zeppelin and Motorhead and tackles Beethoven, Bach, Brahms and even the titular Handel.
Traveling around Europe to provide wider context the British writer tackles this sticky subject with his trademark wit – offering plenty of insight along the way. In fact, alongside Stephen Fry’s lovely Complete And Utter History Of Classical Music you couldn’t find a better introduction to the genre.
So what could be funny about classical music? Well, it’s more in the way Hunter ignores the stuffiness – and then goes about listening to the form in exactly the way he would if it were a bunch of heavy metal albums. With mixed results, of course. An attempt to listen to Wagner’s Rings Cycle in one uninterrupted 14-hour burst – replete with tinned food and buckets (a la Trainspotting) turns pear-shaped.
But the point is in how easily Seb Hunter breaks down and dismisses the stereotyping of classical music and the purists it seems to attract. As he convincingly argues near the end of the book, “classical music needs us to survive”. And he’s right. We all have the facility to take on board some version of classical music – even if you happen to think, as Hunter also amusingly points out “opera is stupid”. I would hope that classical enthusiasts get just as much of a kick out of this book as the beginners.
