J. K. Huysmans: “The mouth organ”
From the novel A rebours (Against the Grain), 1884
For Francis Schwartz
He made his way to the dining-room, where there was a cupboard built into one of the walls containing a row of little barrels, resting side-by-side on tiny sandalwood stands and each broached at the bottom with a silver spigot.
This collection of liqueur casks he called his mouth organ.
A rod could be connected to all the spigots, enabling them to be turned by one and the same movement, so that once the apparatus was in position it was only necessary to press a button concealed in the wainscoting to open all the conduits simultaneously and so fill with liqueur the minute cups underneath the taps.
The organ was then open. The stops labelled ‘flute’, ‘horn’, and ‘vox angelica’ were pulled out, ready for use. Des Esseintes would drink a drop here, another there, playing intense symphonies to himself, and providing his palate with sensations analogous to those which music dispenses to the ear.
Indeed, each and every liqueur, in his opinion, corresponded in taste with the sound of a particular instrument. Dry curaçao, for instance, was like the clarinet with its piercing, velvety note; kümmel like the oboe with its sonorous, nasal timbre; crème de menthe and anisette like the flute, at once sweet and tart, soft and shrill. Then to complete the orchestra there was kirsch, blowing a wild trumpet blast; gin and whisky raising the roof of the mouth with the blare of their cornets and trombones; marc-brandy matching the tubas with its deafening din; while peals of thunder came from the cymbal and the bass drum, which arak and mastic were banging and beating with all their might.
He considered that this analogy could be pushed still further and that string quartets might play under the palatial arch, with the violin represented by an old brandy, choice and heady, biting and delicate; with the viola simulated by rum, which was stronger, heavier, and quieter; with vespetro as poignant, drawn-out, sad and tender as a violoncello; and with the double-bass a fine old bitter, full-bodied, solid, and dark. One might even form a quintet, if this were thought desirable, by adding a fifth instrument, the harp, imitated to near perfection by the vibrant savour, the clear, sharp, silvery note of dry cumin.
The similarity did not end there, for the music of liqueuers had its own scheme of interrelated tones; thus, to quote only one example, Benedictine represents, so to speak, the minor key corresponding to the major key of those alcohols which wine-merchants’ scores indicate by the name of green Chartreuse.
Once these principles had been established, and thanks to a series of erudite experiments, he had been able to perform upon his tongue silent melodies and mute funeral marches; to hear inside his mouth crème de menthe solosand rum-and-vespetro duets.
He even succeeded in transferring specific pieces of music to his palate, following the composer step by step, rendering his intentions, his effects, his shades of expression, by mixing or contrasting related liqueurs, by subtle approximations and cunning combinations.
At other times he would compose melodies of his own, executing pastorals with the sweet blackcurrant liqueur that filled his throat with the warbling song of a nightingale; or with the delicious cacaochouva that hummed sugary bergerets like the Romances of Estelle and the ‘Ah! vous-dirai-je, maman’ of olden days.
But tonight Des Esseintes had no wish to listen to the taste of music; he confined himself to removing one note from the keyboard of his organ, carrying off a tiny cup which he had filled with genuine Irish whisky.
March 10, 2010, 9:54am




Because the time-scale of these planetary motions is exceedingly vast (Saturn’s trip up and down a major third requires no less than 30 years), things have to be accelerated to make these harmonies audible to humans. This has been done in an exceptional recording made by Willie Ruff and John Rodgers. The music you are hearing introduces the planets one by one: first Mercury, high and fast, with its eccentric orbit covering a large interval of a minor 10th; then, both in the treble register, Venus and Earth, whose nearly circular orbits create tones that barely change—Venus oscillates within a quarter-tone, Earth a semitone. Next enters Mars in the alto range, with a fairly wide ambitus traversed in 10 second cycles. Quite a bit lower, Jupiter sounds its stentorian baritone, spanning a minor third. Finally comes Saturn, a growling bass about an octave below Jupiter. Its range is a major third.




