A European goes to Japan to learn the art of archery. He desires to draw near to the spiritual world of the East and believes that this celebrated practice of archery is a good way to begin, since he is already somewhat skilled in handling pistols and weapons. However, the first thing demanded by his master is complete inadvertence. ‘The true art’, he exclaims, ‘is purposeless and inadvertent. The more persistently you try to consciously aim the arrow in the right direction, the less you will succeed in approaching the essence of this art. You are obstructed by a will that is much too purposeful. That which you (yourself ) do not do – or so you believe at least – does not happen either.’

This story, told by Ernesto Grassi, offers us a glimpse of a different world, strange and for some perhaps absurd. For if we ponder on the words of this Eastern master, do we not encroach upon the fundament of our individualism? ‘Come away from yourself, from your subjective moments, from your consciousness, from your ego, and return to the original being’, is the translation of his answer. ‘This self-oblivion conveys one to a condition from which mankind attains a new spiritual freedom, a state of originality and directness which stands – and now a more familiar sound – at the beginning of all creative labour.’

This book aims to avoid any semblance of philosophy. The story is merely an illustration of the chasm between two worlds, a chasm that no longer runs between East and West however, but across our own soil, cutting straight through our Western culture to cause fatal confusion. On the one hand are the offspring and advocates of (German) romantic subjectivism, for whom the subjective expression of the artist is in the foreground. His inner stride, his emotional tension, his moods and experiences make and determine the work of art. We see the type of composer who has his counterpart in the concert virtuoso: both are exponents of a personality cult carried to excess.