«The shortest and simplest answer I've ever been able to offer when asked why I write novels is, because I can't sing, play an instrument, or compose sonatas. I mean no disrespect to literature if I say that, should an extraterrestrial suddenly appear before me and ask to know something essential about the people of earth as expressed through their art, my first thought would be of Bach rather than Tolstoy. Writing, even great writing, is inevitably to some degree a local concern, in a way that music simply isn't. Our novels may not be read in Alpha Centauri, but it seems possible that some of our music will be played.»
Michael Cunningham, no texto de apresentação da BSO “The Hours” de Philip Glass
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