The only time I heard this finale was in a flat in Paris, stoned, back in 1987 or 88. The wind among the gravestones indeed! (You can hear the whole sonata here.)
Apologies if I've been quiet recently. Thanks for your well wishes. I don't know if I've naturally reached a point of departure regarding blogging - I don't know if I have anything useful or entertaining left to say.
Oh well, keep safe everyone. I'm still reading you all, and you can take my well wishes to you all as read. D
And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep; and if I weep, 'Tis that our nature cannot always bring Itself to apathy, which we must steep First in the icy depths of Lethe's spring Ere what we least wish to behold will sleep; Thetis baptized her mortal son in Styx; A mortal mother would on Lethe fix.
~ George Gordon Noel Byron ~ Don Juan, Canto IV, 4.
It is thus that the few rare lucid well-disposed people who have had to struggle on the earth find themselves at certain hours of the day or night in the depth of certain authentic and waking nightmare states, surrounded by the formidable suction, the formidable tentacular oppression of a kind of civic magic which will soon be seen appearing openly in social behavior. - Antonin Artaud