I know nothing about classical music, except what I read in books, part II :
"So?" is Saure's customary answer to that one. "Which would you rather do? The point is," cutting off Gustav's usually indignant scream, "a person feels good listening to Rossini. All you feel like listening to Beethoven is going out and invading Poland. Ode to Joy indeed. THe man didn't even have a sense of humor. I tell you," shaking his skinny old fist, "there is more of the Sublime in the snare drum part to La Gazza Ladra than in the whole Ninth Symphony. With Rossini, the whole point is that lovers always get together, isolation is overcome, and like it or not that is the one great centripetal movement of the World. Through the machineries of greed, pettiness, and the abuse of power, love occurs. All the shit is transmuted into gold. The walls are breached, the balconies are scaled--listen!" It was a night in early May, and the final bombardment of Berlin was in progress. Saure had to shout his head off. "The Italian girl is in Algiers, the Barber's in the crockery, the magpie's stealing everything in sight! The World is rushing together. . . ."