And thus begins the tale of the eminent Czech composer Leoš Janá?ek and his love affair with the 38 year younger Kamila Stösslová, (aged 63 and 25 in 1917, respectively), who was also married. This 'tale', making a sizable tome of 350 pages between the foreward and glossary, is told mostly through the 722 surviving letters that Janá?ek wrote to Stösslová over the last 11 years of his life.

On the whole, the book makes for a pretty fascinating read, taking you into the mind of an aging and hopelessly infatuated composer.

One of the great successes of this book is the editing. Mr Tyrrell clearly worked tirelessly, following many leads in order to properly reference for the reader all the obscure shorthands Janá?ek used that would've been easily decipherable for Stösslová, but not for the reader. He also read through each letter, personally cutting 'redundant' bits (and even entire letters) out, and clearly labeling for us the parts of letters that were destroyed by Stösslová herself in an effort to hide something embarrassing. This makes the book a far easier read than it would've been otherwise.

The other thing that is well done is the addition of other first hand source material, namely letters Stösslová wrote back to Janá?ek, of which few survive since he was obliged to burn most of them, and an entry each from the memoirs of his wife Zde?ka Janá?ková and servant Marie Stejskalová in the epilogue. Indeed, it is from Mrs. Janá?ková's memoirs that we really gather an idea of the nature of their relationship in 1917.

Janá?ková, on the first visit of the Stössels to the Janá?ek household.


Later ...



As we find out, their relationship indeed seems one sided, and is mostly kept together for the first 8 years by Leoš's seeming indomitable need to have someone to write to and be infatuated with. That they kept in some contact is obvious from the content of his letters, but it seems he is the driving force, writing many letters, inviting her to premières of many of his works, organizing most of their get-togethers. She seems to confirm as much in her letter on January 20th, 1925 ...



However, in two years, it seems the combination of his stubborness and the consistent absence of her husband, (who worked as a traveling salesman as far as I could tell), finally caught up to her. It is in April, 1927 when he first uses the intimate 'ty' (personal 2nd person) as opposed to the formal 'vy' (plural second person) when visiting her, and that triggers a chance in their relationship. From here on he begins writing to her nearly everyday (the last 300+ letters in the book are from the period between April 1927, and his death in August 1928 ).

He talks about her being pregnant with his child, he fantasizes constantly in his letters about being intimate with her. He plans an entire summer so the two of them can spend time together, and she seems to welcome this change. Indeed, you get the picture that towards the end of his life he was contemplating divorce with Zde?ka. However, it is on their summer vacation in his cottage at Hukvaldy that he contracts pneumonia and dies.

In an odd twist of fate, her last letter to him, before embarking on the vacation, ended thusly:


The book is rounded out by the Epilogue, explaining his last days, that she was by his side when it all happened; and two appendices, one giving the history of Janá?ek's letters and how they came to be in the possession of the Moravian Museum, (Which released them in 1988 for full publication, this book representing the only English version publication.) The second contemplating marriage law in Czechoslovakia in 1928, and what Janá?ek and Stösslová would've had to fight through to get divorced and married to each other.

Overall a fascinating read, especially if you enjoy classical music and want to 'see into the mind of a composer', still a fascinating read if you're only mildly interested.