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My first subject is the highly interesting psychological material underlying an opera of Ravel's, now being revived in Vienna. My account of its content is taken almost word for word from a review by Eduard Jakob in the Berliner Tageblatt.
A child of six years old is sitting with his home-work before him, but he is not doing any work. He bites his pen-holder and displays that final stage of laziness, in which 'ennui' has passed into 'cafard'. 'Don't want to do the stupid lessons', he cries in a sweet soprano. 'Want to go for a walk in the park! I'ld like best of all to eat up all the cake in the world, or pull the cat's tail or pull out all the parrot's feathers! I'ld like to scold every one! Most of all I'ld like to put mama in the corner!' The door now opens. Everything on the stage is shown very large—in order to emphasize the smallness of the child—so all that we see of his mother is a skirt, an apron and a hand. A finger points and a voice asks affectionately whether the child has done his work. He shuffles rebelliously on his chair and puts out his tongue at his mother. She goes away. All that we hear is the rustle of her skirts and the words: 'You shall have dry bread and no sugar in your tea!' The child flies into a rage. He jumps up, drums on the door, sweeps the teapot and cup from the table, so that they are broken into a thousand pieces. He climbs on the window-seat, opens the cage and tries to stab the squirrel with his pen. The squirrel escapes through the open window. The child jumps down from the window and seizes the cat. He yells and swings the tongs, pokes the fire furiously in the open grate, and with his hands and feet hurls the kettle into the room. A cloud of ashes and steam escapes. He swings the tongs like a sword and beings to tear the wall-paper. Then he opens the case of the grandfather-clock and snatches out the copper pendulum. He pours the ink over the table. Exercise-books and other books fly through the air.