Thoughts about Pianos

by mtempleton

Published March 1, 2009

Hi everyone!

I posted this a couple of moonths ago with plans to turn it into an actual short story rather than some random metaphor thing. That didn't happen. I found another outlet though, just as long as I keep it under 300 words.

Currently, It's 290. I'd be glad for comments, but I only have another 10 words to play with. It's a fun game really.

enjoy

Thoughts about Pianos

There are some cheat instruments in the world, and surely the piano is one of them. That isn’t to say that it’s an easy beast to master, only that a piano stool is a safer place to sit than the string section of the average orchestra.

If life could be a piano, it would somehow be easier to live. With these guidelines; these staves and signatures, showy snippets of Italian and rashes of black dots dictated centuries ago, even the most imposing of instruments can be conquered. That smug look which draws across the face of the musician only confirms as much.

When life is a piano, each day, each decision is a flat, or a sharp, or a natural. Black or white. High or low. Even in the deepest melancholy of a minor key there are rules to adhere to. Without keyboard, there are no jumps to make from one dulcet tone to the next. There is no reprieve, not even the option to call it jazz if all else fails. Because jazz on keys or jazz on strings, all of it is honourable.

On the subject of strings, life is no guitar either. Think of frets. They are unavoidable, they are irrefutable, and there isn’t a fret in the world which wants to see you fail. A chord on a guitar begs to be played. Even if you can’t tell that to the busker with the blue hands, the one whose voice doesn’t carry in the sad songs and whose tone isn’t true enough in the happy ones, guitars are easy.

Life is hard.

If you put a finger wrong, all is ruined. The sound you make is suddenly meaningless.

Life then, is a cello.

Comments & reviews · 1
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kaitlyn
Review
kaitlyn wrote a review Review · Oct 9, 2022

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

Anyway let's get right to it,

There are some cheat instruments in the world, and surely the piano is one of them. That isn’t to say that it’s an easy beast to master, only that a piano stool is a safer place to sit than the string section of the average orchestra.

If life could be a piano, it would somehow be easier to live. With these guidelines; these staves and signatures, showy snippets of Italian and rashes of black dots dictated centuries ago, even the most imposing of instruments can be conquered. That smug look which draws across the face of the musician only confirms as much.


Well..that is a very interesting analogy there. I don't believe I've seen life being compared to a piano before and somehow this seems to really work well here at least the way you describe it. I am loving this comparison so far. I think its a perfect opening to this story, for something so short its always important to establish something like this quickly and clearly and I think you've done that wonderfully here.

When life is a piano, each day, each decision is a flat, or a sharp, or a natural. Black or white. High or low. Even in the deepest melancholy of a minor key there are rules to adhere to. Without keyboard, there are no jumps to make from one dulcet tone to the next. There is no reprieve, not even the option to call it jazz if all else fails. Because jazz on keys or jazz on strings, all of it is honourable.


I love how you're continuing this here, starting out with the simple system of play to describing the ups and downs of life through the notes you play. Its a wonderful transition and it just works so powerfully here. I am really loving the direction that this is taking us in and I can't wait to see what you end on here.

On the subject of strings, life is no guitar either. Think of frets. They are unavoidable, they are irrefutable, and there isn’t a fret in the world which wants to see you fail. A chord on a guitar begs to be played. Even if you can’t tell that to the busker with the blue hands, the one whose voice doesn’t carry in the sad songs and whose tone isn’t true enough in the happy ones, guitars are easy.

Life is hard.

If you put a finger wrong, all is ruined. The sound you make is suddenly meaningless.

Life then, is a cello.


Ooooh that is a twist I never would've thought would work until I'm seeing it on paper here. Wow. That manages to convey a meaning that's so much deeper than you think and I really like this piece. I honestly think you don't need to change a thing here. For something this short, it resonates (no pun intended) quite strongly with the reader and conveys a really strong and surprisingly clear message and I really think it works perfectly.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Harry



“I don't talk things, sir. I talk the meaning of things.”
— Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451