Dear Antonio Salieri,
I have just rewatched the 1986 movie Amadeus, the film that re-introduced you to currency after more than a century and a half of obscurity. Sure, there are things about this story that you probably aren't excited to have attached to your name, including the implication that you actually murdered Mozart, the musical genius we still idolize. You might be happy to learn that the movie is built around that story, but also undermines it--it is obvious that Mozart was quite ill even before you entered the scene to commission the Requiem. If you bear any culpability for Mozart's death, is it shared equally by the man himself, who drove himself to exhaustion with his frenzy of composition.
But that is really just the sauce on the meal--or perhaps, given your character's love of sweets, the icing on the cake. The real center of the story is you, Antonio Salieri, and your jealousy of Mozart and the way it affected your belief in God.
"All I wanted was to sing to God," F. Murray Abraham says, wearing frankly atrocious old age make-up. "He gave me that longing... and then made me mute. Why? Tell me that. If He didn't want me to praise him with music, why implant the desire? Like a lust in my body! And then deny me the talent?"
Let's step back into your childhood a moment, shall we? When you struck your bargain with God. The bargain you offered went like this: "While my father prayed earnestly to God to protect commerce, I would offer up secretly the proudest prayer a boy could think of: Lord, make me a great composer. Let me celebrate Your glory through music and be celebrated myself. Make me famous through the world, dear God. Make me immortal. After I die, let people speak my name forever with love for what I wrote. In return, I will give You my chastity, my industry, my deepest humility, every hour of my life, Amen."
The problem is, Tony (may I call you "Tony?") that you are too close to the situation to see what was going on. You thought you struck a deal--your chastity for talent. You didn't listen for the counter offer. Apparently, God haggles.
Like this:
AS: Lord, make me a great composer.
God: Well, "great" is a relative term. I can make you a composer, which you are not right now. And let's be honest, given your situation, that's not a very likely career path. Not at a "Arts and Performance" charter school, are you? .
AS: And, by "great," I mean immortal! I want to be famous throughout the world, and I want my name to be remembered for what I wrote. That people will love me for my music.
God: That's quite a big order. What are you going to offer me in return?
AS: My chastity.
God: What?? Chastity--oh, I've got plenty of chastity. I've got more chastity than I know what to do with.
AS: But--I'm a young teen aged boy! Chastity is about the most expensive thing I can even think of to offer you!
God: Chastity is not worth a lot in this marketplace, Tony. Can I call you Tony?
AS: Fine. Call me Tony. But--I thought chastity was important to you?
God: Where did you get that idea? I mean, sure, I said not to covet your neighbor's wife, but I also am pretty sure I put a lot of emphasis on the whole "going forth and multiplying." Pretty sure I was clear in the narrative that children and marriage were good things. Look, somehow you've gotten an outsized impression of my interest in making people lonely and miserable.
AS: But isn't there something about "better to marry than to burn?" That it is better for man not to touch a woman?
God (sotto voce, apparently not listening): It's like nobody even reads the Song of Solomon anymore. I mean, there's a guy with so many wives and concubines and somehow people just don't put two and two together.
AS: Can we get back to me being a composer? Don't you want me to be a composer?
God: Oh, NOW he asks me what I want. Look, kid, I am an eternal, omniscient, omnipotent being. Let's just assume that I can handle getting the things I want without making teenagers making rash vows of lifelong chastity, okay?
AS: So you can do this? Grant me my greatest wish?
God: Who do you think you are talking to? What part of "eternal, omniscient, omnipotent" did you not understand? But it's not just "wave my hands and make you a composer." There's a lot of moving parts, and I have to do a bunch of preliminary planning. I've got to get you out of this small town; I've got to get you some proper musical training; I've got to get you some place where people want to listen to new music; and I've got to get you in front of people who will pay you to write it. I can do it, but takes some effort to just make all this stuff happen, and maybe I want to know that it's worth my while.
Have you thought about talking to your father?
AS: My father wouldn't know good music if it bit him on the nose! Besides, that all costs money, and father isn't going to spend money on something like music.
God: You could offer him your chastity.
AS: You are making fun of me!
God: Well of course I am! You want something that costs money, and you are offering your chastity. I mean! What use is chastity to me?
AS: Okay, my chastity and my humility.
God: Oh ho ho! You want to be a world famous composer whose music lives on so as to be immortal. It looks to me like you've already lost your humility. I don't think you have any left to be bargaining with.
AS: Okay, chastity, humility and my industry. I will work every single day to write music to praise you.
God: (counting small coins in his palm) If I add industry to chastity, but subtract humility--does that even buy me a Starbucks? Sorry, boy, that's not enough to purchase all you want.
AS: Well, what can I get for that?
God: Look, composer I can get for you. I've got a good deal on being a composer. Composer is actually pretty do-able. Have you tried singing in the shower? Ba da bing, you're a composer! Is that enough for you?
Okay, I can tell by your face that's not enough. You want to be a composer who actually gets to have his music played, am I right?
AS: Of course. What is the point of being a composer if nobody ever plays your music?
God: You might be surprised. Okay, so you want to write music, and you want to have that music played by actual musicians. And then, you want an audience, I suspect.
AS: Yes! Yes I want an audience!
God: Okay, and you think you can get all of that for chastity, no humility, and a promise of industry? In this economy?
Well, for some reason I like you, kid. I think you've got moxie. So let's add up all the parts of your wish. You want to be a composer, who has musicians to play his music--I'm guessing you want professional ones? Not just a middle school band class? Okay, and you want an audience, during your lifetime, so you get to hear your music and you get to see the audience as well.
AS: Well, I thought that was included.
God: Not always! There are some really great artists that are never going to have their art appreciated, or even seen, during their lifetimes. Wait until you see what Sotheby's does for art prices, and the actual artists don't see a nickel!
AS: Well, that's not fair. What's a "nickel?"
God: Who says it's supposed to be fair? Some people get to be famous and wealthy, but are forgotten. Some people are poor and unknown until after they die. Variations on the theme, dontcha know.
AS: I definitely asked to be famous in my lifetime.
God: (writing in his notebook) "Famous during lifetime." How long of a lifetime? And how long do you want to be famous for? No guarantee on how long Life and Fame are going to last....
