My husband keeps having recurring dreams involving Maurice Ravel’s “Le Tombeau de Couperin.”
In one dream, he was riding a bicycle through France and stopped in a field, watching the skies at night while that piece of music played.
In another, he was in a cafe or restaurant with a sheltered outdoor dining area when he was approached by a poor Frenchman who asked him to play the second movement for him.
I can’t shake the idea that it’s past life related though nothing about him resembles Maurice Ravel, but I can certainly imagine him as a Frenchman around the turn of the 20th century.
Interestingly, this piece of music is dedicated to the memory of several people Ravel had known who died in WWI. The Fugue movement is dedicated to one Second Lieutenant Jean Cruppi, a fellow composer.
I certainly hope memories of that war aren’t lurking in the deep recesses of his memory though. He’s such a sensitive soul, sweet and shy. I can’t imagine what those kinds of memories would do to him if they should surface. I’ve told him often that he’s lucky to not remember the things I have.
I’d rather think of him as having somehow escaped getting pulled into the war, living out a long and happy life among the bohemian set at the end of the Belle Epoque and enjoying the all-too-brief respite of the interwar years.
Here’s the piece of music from his dreams: