Some of you must consider the subject header here to be an oxymoron
(for non-anglophones, that's a contradiction in terms, as in "deafening
silence").  But I'm going to try an experiment here, and if it generates
any interest, I'll stick with it.  I'm slowly wending my way through
Elizabeth Wilson's "Shostakovich, a Life Remembered" (Princeton University
Press, 1994, ISBN 0-691-04465-1), and I propose to report on some of
what I consider are some of the highlights of the book.

My own interest in Shostakovich goes back to my formative years, when
I was rather taken by his symphonies (particularly #5) and was puzzled
over the common perception- encouraged by the Soviet government- that
DCSH was some type of steely apologist for the Soviet system.  I recall
being disappointed by that, and was inclined to attribute it to the
effectiveness of the Soviet propaganda machine, to be regarded in the
same light as Winston coming to love Big Brother, while also regarding
his alleged allegiance with some suspicion.   Correcting that perception
is, in my mind, one of the achievements of Wilson's book, although I
think she does not go nearly as far as Solomon Volkov did in his book
"Testimony ...", in which DCSH was portrayed as an anti-communist who
lead an embittered double life.  ["Testimony" was purportedly related
orally to Volkov by the composer, a claim which generated much controvery.]

Before getting started, a note about the author.  Elizabeth Wilson is
an English cellist who studied with Jacqueline du Pre under Rostropovich
at the Moscow Conservatory.  Her biography of Shostakovich presents him
within the social nad historical context of his time, and does so to a
large extent by quoting reminiscences of those who knew him.  Although
written by a musician, the book does not attempt to deal with his musical
output [Q: was this decision made to sell more books?]  I, in turn, will
quote and paraphrase episodically from Wilson, which will inevitably
lead to a sense of disconnectedness in these reports, which can only
hope to be a pale substitute for reading the book.

I realize that there are those on this list who could better relate the
life of DCSH than I could hope to, some who could probably write their
own book on the subject.  While I would welcome your interest, just bear
in mind this thread is basically not for you!

   DCSH's forebears hailed from Siberia.  His maternal grandfather
   made his way from humble beginnings to become manager of the
   Lena Gold mines, and he made it a priority in life to see that
   his children received an academic education.  His mother studied
   piano at the St. Petersburg Conservatory, while three of her
   siblings got involved in seditious political movements.  DCHS's
   paternal grandfather was of Polish extraction, but grew up in
   Siberia and, while in exile in Siberia for political activities,
   and married there.  Hence, DCSH could boast an impeccable
   revolutionary ancestry to satisfy the demands of Soviet class
   ideology.

   The composer's father, Dmitri Boleslavovich (1875-1922) attended
   St Petersburg University, where we was trained as a biologist
   and engineer and, a couple of years after graduation, found
   employment at the Palace of Weights and Measures, which had
   recently been founded by the eminent chemist, Mendeleyev (who
   is generally credited with the first periodic table of the
   elements).  During WWI his father was a manager of Promet, the
   munitions industry, and his family was rather comfortably off,
   even owning two automobiles.  However, after the revolution and
   particularly after the sudden death of DCSH's father, the family
   fell on very hard times, with DCSH's mother having to enter the
   labor force.  As an adolescent, DCSH considered it his duty to
   assist his mother financially and morally.

   DCSH was born and raised in St. Petersburg in 1906.  Soviet
   propaganda imbued his childhood with an appropriate revolutionary
   flavor, inventing such stories as DCSH's presence at Lenin's
   famous speech delivered from an armoured train at the Finland
   station on 3 April 1917.  This story was almost certainly an
   invention: the story described boys running along side the train
   after school, even though the train arrived at night.  But DCSH
   never dared refute the story, even during his candid memoirs
   given to Volkov.

   DCSH's younger sister, Zoya, a veterinarian of note, recalled
   that her parents were not religiously observant, and that there
   was great harmony in her family home, and even though they
   suffered poverty, the house was always full of people.  All kinds
   of people, came to spend the night, including Jews when there
   was threat of a pogrom.  Mitya (DSCH) entered the St Petersburg
   Conservatory at age 13, where all the other students were much
   older. In early 1923, DCSH fell ill with tubersulosis, and
   underwent an operation, and his health remained delicate thereafter.
   His mother sold a family piano so that he could recuperate in
   the Crimea, where, at 17, the composer met what Zoya claimed was
   Mitya's only true love in life.  Mitya proved to be a very fine
   pianist, although it was recognized that his future lay as a
   composer.  While people "assumed" DSCH would win the pianist's
   medal, he wiped out of the competition early, but Zoya remember's
   that her sister did receive a pianist's medal and that "she was
   a much less good pianist than he was".

   The following is worth an extensive quote from Zoya, who, by
   the way, also studied at the Conservatory.  "Mitya had a natural
   facility and wrote very fast, but in addition he was incredibly
   hard working.  He wrote out his music in full score straight
   away.  He would then take his scores to lessons without having
   even played them hrough.  I always found it amazing htat he never
   needed to try things out on the piano. He just sat down, wrote
   out whatever he heard in his head and then played it through
   complete on the piano. He never demanded or appeared to need
   silence in order to compose.  He had his own room ... we had a
   lot of room in the apartment, not like in Soviet flats nowadays"

   DSCH claimed "Until I started to play the piano I had no desire
   to learn, although I did show a certain interest in music..  When
   our neighbors played quartets I would put my ear to the wall and
   listen.  Seeing this, my mother insisted that I begin piano
   lessons.  I put up stubborn resistance ... it's not worth the
   trouble to learn to play I thought to myself, but mother insisted
   all the same, and in the summer of 1915 [she] began to give me
   piano lessons ... Things then went ahead very fast.  It turned
   out I learnt music very quickly, I memorized without repetitious
   learning - the notes just stayed in my memory by themselves ...
   Soon after I made my first attempts at composition."

   In the year's after his father's death, DSCH's ability to study
   at the Conservatory was largely dependent on scholarships.
   Starting in 1923, the increasing political pressures in educational
   instiutions inevitably influenced the attitudes of the Conservatory
   authorities toward DCSH.  In part, perhaps, because DCSH failed
   to align himself with any group or school of music, there was
   talk of dismissal and his personal stipends were under threat.
   The composer M. F. Gnessin described how:

      "the assistant director of the Conservatory decided to
      deprive DCSH of his stipend, saying, "The name of this
      student means nothing to me.'  'If this name means nothing
      to you,' replied the outraged Glazunov [the director of
      the Conservatory] 'then what are you doing here with us?
      This is no place for you- Shostakovich is one of the
      best hopes for our art.'"

   In 1924 a group of students tried to oust DCSH and have his
   stipend suspended, but again Glazunov interceded on DCSH's behalf,
   although the loaned piano was taken back.  During this time, by
   the way, DCSH supplemented his mother's income by performing in
   cinemas during the years of silent files, work he did not like
   at all.

   Even though Glazunov recognized his genius and assisted the young
   DCSH in many ways, he remained puzzled by him.  Mitya's graduation
   piece in composition (he graduated both as a pianist and a
   composer) was his First Symphony.  Glazunov sat and listened to
   it; he left the hall saying, "I don't understand anything.  Of
   course the work shows great talent, but I don't understand it."

Larry