The Kingdom of Back(86)

AUTHOR’S NOTE


The Kingdom of Back is actually a story I first wrote twelve years ago and have been finessing ever since. I grew up playing piano; Mozart’s music always impressed me because it was easy to learn but incredibly difficult to master. And to think that he wrote so much, so young! How was this possible? I found myself constantly drawn to movies, articles, and books about him—but in what I read or watched, there was never any mention of him having a sister. The only hint that she existed lay in occasional paintings I came across online depicting Mozart as a boy or young man, playing the violin while a young woman accompanied him on the clavier. Who was she, and why did she appear so frequently at his side?

It wasn’t until I read Mozart: A Life by Maynard Solomon (a wondrously detailed book I highly recommend) that I learned Wolfgang had a sister—and not just a sister, but one who both played the clavier with extraordinary skill and composed as competently as her brother. Nannerl, as she was affectionately known, was five years Wolfgang’s senior and every bit a child prodigy. Before their father, Leopold, began teaching Wolfgang how to play the clavier, he taught Nannerl, marveling at how quickly she learned. In 1764, Leopold wrote in a letter, “My little girl plays the most difficult works which we have . . . with incredible precision and so excellently . . . although she is only 12 years old, [she] is one of the most skillful players in Europe.”

A twelve-year-old girl who was one of Europe’s most skillful players. I couldn’t believe I’d never heard of Nannerl. Her brother was so celebrated! Yet here was his sister, his equal in talent, almost completely forgotten by history.

I learned that Nannerl and Woferl were incredibly close as children, often performing together as their father toured them throughout Europe. Woferl idolized Nannerl his entire life, as is evident in his letters, and most likely was inspired to play music because of her. It was during my reading of this time in their lives that a tiny detail caught my eye. With nothing to do during the long months they spent traveling in carriages, Nannerl and Woferl invented for themselves a magical place they called the Kingdom of Back. It became their way of passing the time during their often years-long tours, and they became so absorbed with it that they asked their manservant, Sebastian, to draw a map of the kingdom for them.

A world of fantasy and magic, invented entirely by the Mozart children. It was too interesting a premise for me to pass up, and I immediately knew I wanted to write a story around it. As the book evolved, it became a broader tale about Nannerl herself, what dreams and wishes she might have had, and what her compositions might have meant to her. How must it have felt to love something that the world refused to let her pursue? I am a writer, and telling stories is as much a part of me as my heart—I cannot fathom the agony of being barred from writing simply because of my gender. The thought of Nannerl living during a time when she not only couldn’t share her compositions but also had to watch her brother take the world by storm . . . it turned her story into a personal one for me.

While there is no conclusive evidence that Nannerl ever composed under her brother’s name, there are claims that her handwriting appears in the music notebook that belonged to her and was also used by Wolfgang during his lessons. In fact, a 2015 Telegraph article by Jonathan Pearlman reports that an Australian professor may have identified Nannerl’s musical handwriting in pieces that her brother used to practice piano. What’s more, we know that she composed her own music. In letters exchanged between the siblings, Woferl would enthusiastically ask her to send him her compositions. Could she have lent her hand to some of his work? We may never know for sure, but I’d like to think it is possible.

Tragically, none of her work has survived . . . under her own name, at least.

In the end, Nannerl lived to be seventy-eight years old. Her brother Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart died when he was only thirty-five, but in a way attained immortality through his work.

What legacy could Nannerl have left if she’d been given the kind of attention and access that her brother enjoyed? What beautiful creations were lost to us forever because Nannerl was a woman? How many other countless talents have been silenced by history, whether for their gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, or socioeconomic circumstances?

I wrote this book for the Nannerls of today and tomorrow, in the hopes that when they are ready to share their brilliance with the world, the world is ready to give them the attention and honor that they deserve.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


I began writing The Kingdom of Back as a na?ve, shaky twenty-three-year-old, still fresh out of college and finding my voice. I submitted the story to Kristin Nelson in all the wrong ways an aspiring writer could submit it—unfinished, just one hundred pages in, poorly formatted. Kristin saw something in the manuscript and was kind enough to encourage me to send the rest of the story when I finished it. I did, she took me on as her client, and that was the beginning of our partnership. Twelve years later, we have finally come full circle. This was the book that started us on our way, Kristin, and I remain forever grateful to you for being the first to believe in me and this story. The Kingdom of Back was always dedicated to you.

To the incredible, inimitable Jen Besser, who gave this book a wonderful home, to the absolutely brilliant Kate Meltzer, who helped shape this book into something a hundred times better than its original form, and to Anne Heausler, for saving my butt with every single copyedit: I cannot thank you all enough.