Inside the head of a teenage genius

Diaries: The diaries of the precocious Russian composer Prokofiev are never dull 'Now, when I wake up in the morning, I know…

Diaries: The diaries of the precocious Russian composer Prokofiev are never dull 'Now, when I wake up in the morning, I know that ahead of me lies a day full of interest' - Prokofiev

The composer Sergey Prokofiev was a precocious talent in the early years of the 20th century. Just how precocious becomes evident on reading this volume, the first of the English translations of his diaries to be published, covering the years 1907-1914. Born in 1891, Prokofiev was a stripling of 16 years when he started to keep the diary (and for the rest of his life he continued the habit, leaving a fascinating record for posterity) and in the present volume the reader gains a vivid insight into life in pre-revolutionary St Petersburg, seen through the eyes of a rapidly maturing Music Conservatory student.

The fact that the diary was started at such a young age inevitably means that the initial observations are a little coloured by typically teenage concerns, but the diarist quickly gains a sure and individual voice and those worried by fears of reading a dull day-by-day account can put their fears to rest, for Prokofiev was anything but dull, and his legendary quick wit leaps off the page.

It is a wonder that the diaries from these early years survived at all. After the Russian revolution of 1917, his fleeing mother took some of the diaries with her and managed not to lose them during the turbulent upheaval of travelling to Turkey and then on to France. Another batch was rescued from the family home by friends, and subsequently given to Sergey Koussevitsky who passed them on to Nikolai Myaskovsky (who figures largely in the diary as a true and loyal friend of the composers during their student days), who in turn returned them to the composer in 1927 on his first return to the USSR.

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Relationships are paramount throughout the diary. His trysts and reunions with his friends are humorous and engaging, and while the death of the composer's father is movingly dealt with (Prokofiev was an only child), it never becomes self-pitying; the passage dated the 10th of August 1910 is a wonderfully honest attempt to analyse the relationship which they had.

In relation to girls there is sometimes a moving naivety, for example when he "sat up in the balcony with Frieda Hansen. Frieda was slender, elegant, piquant, and altogether enchanting: I sat and feasted my eyes upon her . . . When the performances finished Frieda went into a little sulk, and by the time we parted on the way home had definitely drawn away from me . . . " Reading this in the context of the fact that the two have been very interested in each other for some time, one can't help thinking that she was waiting for him to make some appropriate move while the opportunity was there (socially acceptable of course, given the mores of the time), and when he didn't she became cheesed off (or perhaps this is just me reading between the lines, and consequently resurrecting my own squirm-inducing teenage memories).

But the most striking thing as the diary progresses is the amount of work Prokofiev was capable of. There he is, a young man in his late teens, composing a symphony, a sinfonietta, some orchestral pieces, his first piano concerto, a couple of piano sonatas, starting an opera, conducting, playing as répétiteur for the student performances, performing as a pianist in first performances of works by then living composers such as Arnold Schönberg, as well as works by himself and his colleagues in the composition class. On top of all that he found time to write copiously in a diary, play chess to a very high standard (a pursuit that devours hours), and socialise with girls.

There is no doubt but that this productivity was the result of an exceptional talent, but it was surely helped by an attitude towards life that he expressed succinctly in an entry for October 4th, 1909: "Now, when I wake up in the morning, I know that ahead of me lies a day full of interest and even if, exceptionally, today is not so interesting, tomorrow is certain to be."

Fergus Johnston is a composer living and working in Dublin. He is currently writing an opera on the subject of Silken Thomas, with a libretto by Celia de Fréine

Prodigious Youth Diaries 1907-1914 By Sergey Prokofiev. Translated and annotated by Anthony Phillips Faber & Faber, 835pp. £25