Few people know (or care) that child prodigy Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart had a sister. Fewer people still know that his sister, Maria Anna "Nannerl" Mozart was just as musically talented as he. Unfortunately, given the time period of her life (mid 1700's - early 1800s), the mere fact that she was born a female cast her dreams of being a world-famous musician aside.
Such is the premise of Nancy Moser's novel, Mozart's Sister, an historical fiction written in the first person perspective of Nannerl Mozart. Through Moser's novel we follow Nannerl from her girlhood as part of the travelling "Wunderkinder," through the struggle of her adolescence, through the heartbreak of her adulthood, and finally the acceptance and wisdom she gains through a life void of realizing her own hopes and dreams. While this may sound like a pathetic downer of a novel, Moser's writings capture the steadfastness that IS Nannerl Mozart, which leaves the reader with a feeling of accomplishment on Nannerl's behalf.
Born Maria Anna in 1751, Nannerl was the first Mozart child to benefit from her father, Leopold Mozart's musical talents. She excelled on the clavier, harpsichord and fortepiano, was a force to reckon with on the violin, and had something of a voice. She was the child of note until her younger brother Wolfgang came along -- who was a bonafide child prodigy. In the early years their father and mother (Anna Maria) would take their children around to promote their remarkable talents, proclaiming the talent a "Gift from God." Performing all over for nobility and royalty, and seeing in their young lives what most people in those days would never see in a lifetime, Nannerl fell in love with the thrill and promise of being a musician. She was so young at that point, and didn't know what her gender would have in store for her . . .
As she approached marriageable age, her time on stage, performing, quickly diminished. She did not know why this was happening and concluded for the longest time it was simply because her little brother was the true prodigy of the family, and that everyone was coming to see just Wolfgang perform. Her father did little to change this perception; in fact, Nannerl realized her dream of performing had come to an end when her father announced that just he and Wolfgang would be travelling to Italy, leaving Nannerl and her mother home, alone. Her father used 'finances' as the excuse, when in the bitter, harsh reality it was simply the fact that there was no place for women performers (lest they be singers). So Nannerl and her mother kept up their small apartment in Salzbug, while her father and brother travelled the world living out the dream that she, too, shared, despite her gender.
As she grew older, Nannerl realized an even greater concern -- class. Though her father was vice kapelmeister, her family's class was still middle to upper-middle. They were not wealthy, though at times they were well off. They were not nobility, though they were well known. The first of Nannel's heartbreaks came when one young suitor who seemed so very interested -- inviting Nannerl and her mother out to his family's country estate -- was suddenly rendered 'unavailable' due to his pairing with another young lady of noble class. The second of Nannerl's heartbreaks came once she reached the ripe old age of 30 (spinster age for this time period!) and her secret beau, Franz D'Ipold, requested to marry her, but his request was denied by the Archbishop and by her father, as Franz was nothing more than a school teacher and would not be able to provide for the Mozart family once Leopold retired. To Nannerl, this meant she was too good for her own class, and not good enough for the class above. Again, she was caught in the middle of dreams and reality.
Nancy Moser does a terrific job of drawing out Nannerl's emotions -- the confusions of being an adolescent, the yearning for dreams that cannot be recognized, the jealousy of being Wolfgang Mozart's sister. Through tragedy, trauma, and ultimately acceptance and grace, the reader travels with Nannerl through a life of overwhelming disappointment . . . yet somehow gains a very sincere appreciation for this woman's plight.
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