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Karol Szymanowski. Music as an Autobiography

by Bartosz Dąbrowski (Author)
©2026 Monographs X, 236 Pages

Summary

This book offers an original and brilliant study of Karol Szymanowski's imagination and musical language as an encrypted autobiographical message and is recognised as a revealing and groundbreaking interpretation of the composer's music and biography.
Inspired by psychoanalysis, queer theory and musical hermeneutics, the author uncovers the hidden homosexual references of Szymanowski's musical works. Through a meticulous analysis of Szymanowski's vocal and instrumental compositions in the perspective of his less well-known literary works, intimate autobiographical notes and allusions contained in letters, the author reconstructs a coherent picture of Szymanowski's musical imagination and biography. The book dramatically challenges understandings of many of Szymanowski's works, allowing us to discover the unknown face of the composer’s work through its unexpected and hitherto unnoticed connections to his life.

Table Of Contents

  • Cover
  • Half-Title Page
  • Title Page
  • Copyright Page
  • Contents
  • Introduction
  • Chapter 1 On the Stage of Fantasy
  • Dirge
  • Chapter 2 In Tymoszówka – Through the Keyhole
  • Family of Landed Gentry and the Fantasies of an Outsider
  • Image of the Grave
  • Cain. Uproar in the Closet and Fantasies of Escaping
  • Failure and Agony of the Protagonist
  • Digression. Narcissus among the Marshes
  • ‘This is my fate – my fate!…’ Recognition and Depression
  • Songs and Phantasms
  • Chapter 3 Pain and Pleasure
  • Hermitic Somersault
  • Relapses into Masochism
  • Tantris der Narr
  • Chapter 4 Dandy and His Margins
  • Spiess
  • Redemption through Art
  • Burckhardt and the Pagan Revival
  • Pater and the Aesthetics of the Male Body
  • Dandy and the Convoluted ‘We’
  • Chapter 5 In Vienna – Sexual Dissident
  • Taormina
  • The Marvellous Persian
  • Dagmar and Charles
  • Drafting an ‘Opera’
  • Nietzsche in Vienna
  • Weininger, Stravinsky, and Jews
  • Chapter 6 Theurgy. Russia
  • Kiev – Petrograd – Moscow
  • Orient and Sublimation
  • Symphony No. 3
  • Narcissism and Homosexual Irony
  • A Fairy Tale Princess
  • Masques
  • Dionysiac Masquerade. Demeter and Agave
  • Deification of the Body
  • Pagan Mysteries. Efebos and King Roger
  • Index

Introduction

This book is not a biography, even though in its general outline it retains the chronology of Szymanowski’s attitudes and ideas. The simplest way to describe it is as a study of the composer’s imagination, produced from the perspective of the writings, snippets and literary fragments he left, with some of his vocal works also subject to interpretation here. Thus, it constitutes a most literal attempt at reconstructing the ‘internal biography’ in which the musical and literary oeuvre is steeped.

In this book, I attempt to set Szymanowski’s biography against the problem discussed by Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe in his essay ‘The Echo of the Subject’, in which he poses the unexpected question of the hidden links between music and autobiography. There, the author asks: ‘What is it that ties together autobiography … the autobiographical compulsion (the need to tell, to confess, to write oneself) or music – the haunting by music or the musical obsession?’1

The conclusions drawn by Lacoue-Labarthe tend towards wider generalisations. In his view, the autobiographical compulsion has its de facto origin in the experience of absence and loss, thus being associated with a certain subjective imbalance and a confrontation with one’s deficiency, which requires completion – usually an impossibility. Therefore, the author sees the subject of every autobiography as having been marked with a sense of doubleness, loss and incompleteness. Such a sentiment of impairment, which entails the need to make oneself present (hence the writing), stemming from the very nature of mimetic representation, has its origin in the famed notion of désistance, i.e. an act of ‘ceding something to someone else’, a necessary challenge faced by anyone attempting to translate their own experience into the language (of literature or music).

Relating the considerations of Lacoue-Labarthe to Szymanowski is, I believe, particularly justified. In my view, Szymanowski is entangled in a similar mimetic scandal for at least two other reasons; therefore, he experiences it with redoubled power. I regard him as someone who, first and foremost, desires to capture the experience of his biography in music, which is why he resolves to undertake an attempt – both deliberate and doomed to failure – to cross the boundary separating these mutually asymmetrical orders. Above all, however, he continues to be an actor in an impossible autobiographical drama – as a homosexual outsider who writes his biography en abyme; hence, he incessantly grapples with the sense of its actual absence or fragmentary halving. At best, being homosexual, he settles for recording the bizarre and oftentimes desperate experience of continual maladjustment between the biography and its form – if we may thus refer to the sense of autobiographical expropriation his writings are imbued with.

The subject proper of this book is therefore the experience of evanescence, a peculiarity of Szymanowski’s imagination: the feeling of standing on the verge of presence and absence, constituting a record of his biographical and existential situation. It encompasses numerous situational and figurative variants, ranging from dispersion, erasure, doubling to the images of a blurred mirror reflection, a barely discernible echo or a voice waning in the distance.

Particularly correlated with Lacoue-Labarthe’s notion of désistance, conceived of as a deliberate choice of a halved existence, are primarily Szymanowski’s early notes, which I discuss in the opening chapters of the book (‘On the Stage of Fantasy’; ‘In Tymoszówka – Through the Keyhole’; ‘Pain and Pleasure’). These notes date back to the years of the composer’s adolescence and early adulthood. Their author intentionally places himself on the margin, as an outsider, which corresponds to his position on the stage (of life), and renders his forays into writing (i.e. the margin of his actual oeuvre) the privileged location for recording his experience.

These literary sketches, related in content to the texts the composer picked for his juvenile songs, are steeped in obstinate lugubrious fantasies revolving around the motif of the grave and the abyss. I try to make a case that these are correlated with the disfigured, phantasmal image of homosexual puberty, unable to establish an individuation scenario for itself and hence identifying with the scenes of the protagonist’s decline and death. Here, the said evanescence and erasure recur in the images of dying and burying a dead body in the grave, fear of loved ones, narcissistic doubling and the Pietà of love (‘Penthesilea’), submersion in the darkness and leaving into the night. Besides the vocal form of a dirge, their reflection in the musical narrative becomes, among other things, a repetitive rhythm, a monotonous circulatio and a refractory, dissonant, irritating tone. The composer’s writings of the period are very much interconnected with his musical (above all – vocal) output, thus providing an account of the mutual interpenetration of phantasms and songs also at the level of musical scores.

In the following chapters, I mainly discuss literary texts, the margins of the books he read, and passages from his letters. The book commences with the first writings and extends to the early 1920s, the point when their author definitively stopped taking down his thoughts in a more or less regular fashion and keeping a written record thereof, at least in the form of literature.

I see the ambivalent nature of autobiographical désistance, the play of making oneself present and then withdrawing away, as permeating the composer’s subsequent search for an appropriate form. It developed in the course of his journey to Italy, his sojourns in Sicily and Vienna, and lastly during his voyages through Russia at the time of the Great War, but also when Szymanowski assumes the strategy of dandyism towards the Polish community, keeping it at a distance with his aestheticising reserve, or when he experiences a breakthrough moment in his biography in Sicily and Vienna. Be that as it may, his homosexual mythology – a true Mediterranean fairytale and grotesque utopia, another incarnation of Neverland – continues to be rife with undercurrents of irony and sarcasm worthy of Wild, Gombrowicz (or Almódovar), thus remaining incessantly related to the obsession of absence and dispersion.

This reference to a certain lack and the rift inherent in his biography constitutes, I believe, the main subject of the two great works by Szymanowski from the period after World War I – his opera King Roger and the lost novel Efebos (the very fact of its disappearance, with only two chapters extant, is in itself an unintentional metaphor). Were we to treat these works as a mirroring, a binary interpretative system, and juxtapose them with the original versions of the libretto, we would be able to observe that during work on his mystery play, Szymanowski elevated evanescence and erasure to the status of an offering and almost religious self-sacrifice. The opera, in its initial version intended as an almost an emancipatory statement, its structure modelled on the history of homosexual self-identification, eventually took the form of a tale of a traumatic encounter with some unnameable and uncontrollable otherness, a specular deformation and anamorphosis, which leaves a void and absence in its wake and hence develops into a story that can only be accommodated en abyme.

Chapter 1 On the Stage of Fantasy

I could venture that everything I write is my autobiography, embedded in sounds.

Karol Szymanowski

Dirge

The memories from the composer’s youth and his literary juvenilia are suffused with fantasies of his non-existence and dissolution into oblivion; within them, scenes of pain and suffering, visions of dying and thanatic isolation are permeated with a peculiar kind of magnetism.

Seldom is the plot of these sombre reveries brought to the foreground. Rather, the principle behind their manifestation is subject to the logic of anamorphosis, frame-shifting or interference, seemingly due to a deliberate intervention. These images appear to have been somewhat proscribed. This is especially the case when the composer writes his own lyrics; it is less frequent when he reaches for works by other authors, which do not always correspond to the same tropes and are by definition transposed in relation to the latter. On such occasions, the direction is reversed — from the edge of the image towards its centre — as though the composer strove to find a mirror representation of his writing, to find himself in the speech of another. Ultimately, however, we are once again left with an anamorphosis.

The infrequent accounts of his earliest memories attest to a similar tendency ‘to extend’ images and conceal fantasies about his own death within them. Their protagonist is in the habit of summoning or being summoned by death; his thoughts meander around funerary scenes; he finds release in their morbid direction. Such occupations tended to accompany his first creative efforts, shrouded in an air of — as he subsequently noted — ‘mortuary pessimism’ [PL 201].2 In the only interview (1933) in which he touched on the topic of his childhood, he reminisced:

Already from the age of twelve, I would write some awful pieces. Once, I ventured an opera libretto. I was greatly moved by Hauptmann’s The Sunken Bell. That bell would not leave me alone. But as I was ashamed of my musical aspirations, I used to run from home, far away to the pond. There was a bathhouse there, hidden in the reeds. I would sneak there with my music manuscript notebook and spin fantastical melodies for hours on end. [PM 437]

Within this image, one need only shift the frame, thus unveiling the space infused with funerary paraphernalia, to be able to recognise a sliver of the realm of juvenile fantasies. The text of the drama played a particular role here – the mirror reflecting an outline of his thematic imagination with its mortuary scenery and dismal insignia; it was an elaborate scene of a child’s agony, dreaming his own death and celebrating the departure. Only when that specular adjacency has been recognised, does it become clear that the attempts evoked in the memory formed merely a part of the thanatic activities looming in the background. The scene of composing was overshadowed by two images, henceforth the hallmarks of his youthful imagination: seclusion, verging on non-existence, and funerary rites. It was owing to these that the representation of his initiation bore the stigma of a plaint and lamentation, of being enshrouded in ‘one immense Grablied’ [K1 65], as he wrote in one of his later letters; the kingdom of music was emerging from the wailing of the reeds, the wind, and the tolling of a bell.

The reading of the imagery of these dreams would not be accomplished, however, unless it were complemented by being juxtaposed against the texts of the juvenilia, the element removed from the scope of the interview. For the focal point of this particular memory was the outcome, with the cause for mourning having been left out; contrariwise, the texts written for personal use indicated its origin; they captured the same situation from another perspective – as it were from the beginning, and not the end, of the story.

It is thanks to the juvenilia that one is able to acknowledge that the fantasies revolving around death carried erotic undertones. Thus, as one might imagine, they contributed to the perceived ‘densification’ of the areas of interdiction and threat.

The nexus of eroticism and mortal danger, an idiosyncratic feature of the musician’s imagination, was revealed most fully in his 1898 poem ‘Sen’ (Dream) [PL 334–5]. It recorded a traumatic event of some sort and was hidden in a manuscript. At the same time, it was a particular document of homosexual bovarysme; its very title was the first indication that the narrated story had never happened, had not occurred; being a dream, it functioned as if parenthetically.3 This devaluation, however, was subject to the poetics of anamorphosis – what was thus moved to the margin, in fact emerged in the foreground, while what had never been, had actually occurred and played a significant role; the situation resembled the position of the child’s fantasy in Hauptmann’s work, i.e. of a fancy more real than reality itself. ‘Dream’ is the key to the composer’s imagination; therefore, it requires a more exhaustive treatment.

The poem describes a journey to a tropical island through exotic marshes. Yet above all, it is a tale of a long-lost intimate space to which the speaker returns in an unusual manner, as if by ‘backtracking’ in his dreams to the moment of his birth:

Watchful, I daydream a strangest vision

(My heart shedding tears of blood)

Of cerulean seas I dream, and distant lands,

Details

Pages
X, 236
Publication Year
2026
ISBN (PDF)
9783631869963
ISBN (ePUB)
9783631952566
ISBN (Hardcover)
9783631869956
DOI
10.3726/b23760
Language
English
Publication date
2026 (September)
Keywords
Karol Szymanowski Biography Music Literary Studies Musicology Psychoanalysis Queer Theory
Published
Berlin, Bruxelles, Chennai, Lausanne, New York, Oxford, 2026. x, 236 pp.
Product Safety
Peter Lang Group AG

Biographical notes

Bartosz Dąbrowski (Author)

Bartosz Dąbrowski is Assistant Professor at the University of Gdansk. He is the author of two books as well as over 50 articles in the field of Polish contemporary literature. His areas of specialisation include postmemory, psychoanalysis, queer studies and Holocaust literature.

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Title: Karol Szymanowski. Music as an Autobiography