thunderstruck
adj 1: as if struck dumb with astonishment and surprise; “a
circle of policement stood dumbfounded by her denial of
having seen the accident”; “the flabbergasted aldermen
were speechless”; “was thunderstruck by the news of his
promotion” [syn: dumbfounded, dumfounded,
flabbergasted, stupefied, thunderstruck,
dumbstruck, dumbstricken]
My first memory of “thunderstruck” is from high school. Competing in a piano competition, my repertoire included Chopin’s “Polonaise-Fantaisie,” Op. 61.
Working on slightly mis-guided principles that were typical of my youth I chose this late Chopin piece for its relative obscurity and for what I thought of as its inaccessibility. As a high schooler growing up in Tampa I felt safe in my belief that no one else my age was playing this thing. This being true as far as my immediate circles extended I let myself believe that I and only I owned this large scale, oh-so-serious Chopin piece.
In school it was common to feel that only one among us could play such-and-so a composition, this being especially true for the larger scale concerti and sonatas. Everyone played the same études and shorter pieces, but when someone announced their plan to learn the Brahms First Concerto there was an unspoken rule that no one else would learn that piece at that time.
It seemed a matter of pride and ownership, though it was also a matter of balance for the piano teachers. If 3 of a teacher’s students were learning the same Brahms concerto it would get tedious for the teacher and for the teacher’s studio: Master classes would become repetitive, and the value of learning from your peers would diminish.
My teacher at the time questioned why I wanted to learn the Polonaise-Fantaisie, asking what I saw in it, what I thought about while playing it, and other diplomatic ways of suggesting that I could better myself as a pianist by tackling a more recognizable composition.
In later years I would accuse myself of choosing that work as a way of making myself look intellectual. I imagined the work obscure enough that I could fool competition judges and audiences alike. If I could maintain the appearance that I knew the music better than they then who were they to judge my playing?
Sitting in the audience at that piano competition, listening to other contestants, a Korean woman sat down and dug into Chopin’s “Polonaise-Fantaisie.” My jaw dropped, and my head sat straight up on my neck. I remember my hair coming out of its gel. I simply could not fathom another pianist learning my Chopin “Polonaise-Fantaisie.” In my world it was I who brought that piece to others, and it was I who carried the torch of greater exposure for this relatively arcane piece.
My mother, later that day, described me as “thunderstruck.” The definitions available here seem fitting, if a bit over the top. “Floored” could be the closest word to match, though “thunderstruck” is only the headline. The significance of my reaction travels through other words: Haughty alone is too strong a word, but “Haughty insecurity” balances the bad side of my attitude with the näive. “Callow” seems like a direct hit.
(WordNet 2.0 includes the sentence “a callow youth of seventeen” in its definition, coincidentally invoking my exact age at the time of the “Polonaise-Fantaisie” thunder-stroked incident).
I could be embarrassed to recount this incident, as it would seem to reveal my selfishness. But I think it reveals little more than generic high school vanity, callowness and all. That mentality of ownership did not travel into my adulthood, and today it seems inappropriate to feel possessive about music written by composers other than yourself.
