The Faure Song Cycles. Stephen Rumph

      The symmetrical da capo form also allows “Adieu” to contain the turbulent energies of “Toujours.” The middle section returns to the key of the second song, oscillating between F♯ minor and D major, tonic and submediant. The restless arpeggios return along with the melodic upbeats, ruffling the serene hymn. The da capo restores order in m. 23, even as the piano’s broken chords quietly absorb the restless energies of the middle section. “Adieu” thus recapitulates the journey of Poème d’un jour, absorbing the cycle’s violent emotions within the sturdy symmetry of the da capo form. Nevertheless, the specter of chaos peeks out once more at the end. On the penultimate line, as the poet recalls his first declaration of love, “Adieu” drops abruptly into E♭ major (see example 2.7). Orledge perhaps exaggerated in writing that “Fauré comes close to disaster at the end of ‘Adieu,’ ” but the effect is certainly jarring within this Apollonian song.³² The tonic returns after two bars, and a pair of plagal cadences smooth away the brief disruption. This final harmonic detour bids farewell to the third relations that troubled Poème d’un jour from the opening bars and seals the victory of form over passion.

      Fauré composed Poème d’un jour at a turning point in his career. He had just published his first work, the Violin Sonata in A Major (op. 13), and the following year he would complete two major works, the Ballade (op. 19) and the Piano Quartet in C Minor (op. 15). As Fauré broke with Pauline Viardot’s theatrical family, he gradually divested himself of the operatic ambitions that she had foisted on him, which had led to a string of vain projects.³³ As the composer would reflect years later, “This break was perhaps not so bad for me, since within the dear Viardot family I would surely have been diverted from my true path.”³⁴ Within the coming-of-age plot of Poème d’un jour, the operatic tone of the first two songs perhaps represents the stage career that had tempted the young composer chez Viardot, while the third song points to a higher path, embodying the poise, craftsmanship, and historicity prized by the Parnassians. These qualities make “Adieu” a worthy prize song for the apprentice composer as he embarked on a new stage in his career.

      Poème d’un jour also marks a milestone in Fauré’s conception of the word-music relationship. In a 1911 article, the composer surprisingly disparaged his settings of Leconte de Lisle. While few listeners will agree with his assessment, Fauré’s explanation bears repeating. The poetry, he wrote, is “too full, too rich, too complete for music to adapt to it successfully.”³⁵ The rich rhymes and intricate forms of the Parnassians do indeed present a daunting challenge to the composer, and the strain can be felt in “Adieu.” Grandmougin’s two-syllable lines fit awkwardly into the symmetrical melodic structure; they either tumble out quickly or echo redundantly like afterthoughts. The lonely iambs introduce a note of hesitancy, complicating the flow of the vocal melody. The Parnassian form thus clips the wings of the operatic muse who fluttered so freely through the first two songs. In the end, Poème d’un jour exalts poetry, guardian of the manly virtues of reason, logic, and form, above pure music. But the balance of power would shift radically in Fauré’s next song cycle after he met his most congenial poet.