Like many 18th and 19th century composers, Wolfgang Amade Mozart spent a large part of his life on the road. During this time, he impulsively poured his unexpurgated thoughts into copious letters home. These are of crucial biographical importance, but their translation is problematic. Mozart had no formal education and wrote in a mixture of German, French and Italian. His grammar and spelling were unruly and his literary efforts idiosyncratic in the highest degree. Although the words themselves are easily decoded with the help of bilingual dictionaries, the real problem lies in the tone and, as Robert Spaethling observes, previous translators have ducked this. He points to the inappropriateness of reading the letters in impeccable grammar, and aims rather to preserve the natural flow and flavour of Mozart's original style.
Spaethling clearly loves words, and linguistic nuance, as much as Mozart did himself. And when the linguistic games are at their most complex, he democratically prints the original alongside the translation so that we can quarrel and do better. The beauty of this work is that now we can see how — casually and seemingly without trying — Mozart parodies the epistolary modes of the day. And it's possible to see a connection between this freewheeling brilliance with words and his prodigious musical abilities.