In Grad School, I took an Introduction to Musicology Class. For those who don’t know, Musicology is the study of music interacting with various scholarly disciplines of the day, whether sociology, psychology, history, or something more bespoke like music therapy and ethnomusicology. As I entered the class, I hoped to learn how music interacts with these different fields, and to possibly learn how music could help my local community. To my shock and dismay, instead I was taught to question authority and deconstruct the great composers of Western Civilization. One chapter of assigned reading that stood out was titled, “Was Handel Gay?: On Closet Questions and Cultural Politics” from Gary C. Thomas’s book, Queering the Pitch: The New Gay and Lesbian Musicology. If you know anything about Handel’s faith and music, you would rightly think this chapter totally absurd, but in our day, arguments such as these are given out like candy to eager students who are like sheep without a shepherd.
As historical revisionists live and breathe queer ideology, they attempt to read their radical ideas back in time. Seeking to find any trace of queer-ness, they insert their own presuppositions into their field of study, often overriding evidence to the contrary. This will then be taught to students who do not know any better. Even worse, under the gaze of their all-knowing professor, deconstruction becomes a pleasurable activity that applies to anyone and anything. To quote Thomas, “But if the romantic impulse to construct cultural heroes is human, the ironic counterimpulse to deconstruct them seems equally so . . . We thus get to enjoy our heroes twice, first in the putting on, then in the taking off of their clothes; if anything, the latter is more pleasurable.”[1]
1. Gary C. Thomas, “Was George Frideric Handel Gay?”: On Closet Questions and Cultural Politics” in Queering the Pitch (Routledge, 2006), 155.
Thomas and others have become the unbelievers of Romans 1:32, “Though they know God’s righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them.” Or in this case, they “make up stories of those who do such shameful acts, and enjoy them.” In contrast to Thomas, I will argue that the assertion of Handel being a homosexual is based on evidence that is non-existent or speculative at most, and instead, Handel’s sexuality should be viewed in light of his Christian faith. In our day, modern day thinkers, historians, and even theologians have a way of casting former heroes of western civilization and biblical history in their own image to further their own agenda. Rather, being true to history means going where the evidence leads. As I will demonstrate, there is little to no evidence to support such a viewpoint that Handel was homosexual.
Responding to the Argument
In his chapter, Thomas attempts to peel back layer upon layer of an apocryphal conversation that supposedly took place to between King George II and Handel himself. King George II questioned Handel’s ‘love of women,’ to which Handel allegedly and evasively replied, “I have no time for anything but music.”[2] Yet Handel’s reply does not seem so far-fetched. Sir John Hawkins, who knew Handel personally and is worth quoting at length here, writes of the unmarried Handel in his own A General History of the Science and Practice of Music, where quite clearly he says:
2. Joshua Kosman, “Was Handel Gay? / Musicologist’s provocative new book explains why it might matter.” SFGate, February 17, 2002,
The course of [Handel’s] life was regular and uniform. For some years after his arrival in England his time was divided between study and practice, that is to say, in composing for the opera, and in conducting concerts at the duke of Rutland’s, the earl of Burlington’s, and the houses of others of the nobility who were patrons of music, and his friends. There were also frequent concerts for the royal family at the queen’s library in the Green-Park, in which the princess royal, the Duke of Rutland, Lord Cowper and the other persons of distinction performed; of these Handel had the direction. As these connections dissolved, he gradually retreated into a state of privacy and retirement, and showed no solicitude to form new ones….
…His social affections were not very strong; and to this it may be imputed that he spent his whole life in a state of celibacy; that he had no female attachment of another kind may be ascribed to a better reason. His intimate friends were but few; those that seemed to possess most of his confidence were Goupy, the painter, and one Hunter, a scarlet dyer at Old Ford, near Bow, who pretended a taste for music, and at a great expense had copies made for him of all the music of Handel that he could procure. He had others in the city; but he seemed to think that the honour of his acquaintance was a reward sufficient for the kindness they expressed for him.
A temper and conduct like this, was in every view of it favourable to his pursuits; no impertinent visits, no idle engagements to card parties, or other expedients to kill time, were suffered to interrupt the course of his studies. His invention was for ever teeming with new ideas, and his impatience to be delivered of them kept him closely employed. He had a favourite Rucker harpsichord, the keys whereof, by incessant practice, were hollowed like the bowl of a spoon. He wrote very fast, but with a degree of impatience proportioned to the eagerness that possesses men of genius of seeing heir conceptions reduced into form.[3]
3. John Hawkins, A General History of the Science and Practice of Music. Vol. 2 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1963), 911–12.
From this testimony, it is very reasonable to conclude that Handel was too busy for any type of committed relationship. Thomas himself quotes Jonathan Keates who describes the vocation of musician as a vagabond lifestyle that was usually a hindrance to marriage.[4] This is important, as many will try and use the context of the day and Handel’s own privacy to support a possible homosexual lifestyle for Handel.[5] Thomas tries to argue Hawkins is saying something more with his language of “social affections” (i.e. “What does this really mean?”), but when read in context of the quote and the language of the time, one sees that it is social relationships in general that is meant, and not a hidden innuendo.[6]
4. Jonathan Keates, Handel: The Man and His Music (New York: St. Martin’s, 1985), 22.
5. Kosman, “Was Handel Gay?”
6. Handel also suffered from blindness in his later years, as well as what others reported as ‘fits of madness’. These two additional physical ailments that prevented him from marriage. See Burrows, Handel, 371.
Additionally, Handel’s heterosexuality is seen in the fact that he may have gotten married to a woman if he had renounced his position as a musician. As William Coxe observes,
For when he was young, two of his scholars, ladies of considerable fortune, were so much enamoured of him, that each was desirous of a matrimonial alliance. The first is said to have fallen a victim to her attachment. Handel would have married her; but his pride was stung by the coarse declaration of her mother, that she never would consent to the marriage of her daughter with a fiddler; and indignant at the expression, he declined all further inter-course [discussion]. After the death of the mother, the father renewed the acquaintance, and informed him that all obstacles were removed; but he replied, that the time was now past; and the young lady fell into a decline, which soon terminated her existence. The second attachment, was a lady splendidly related, whose hand he might have obtained by renouncing his profession. That condition he resolutely refused, and laudably declined the connection which was to prove a restriction on the great faculties of his mind.[7]
7. William Coxe, Anecdotes of George Frederick Handel and John Christopher Smith (London, 1799; New York: Da Capo Press, 1979), 28–29.
Though given the choice of a couple debutantes, Handel held a high standard for the arts, and if they did not understand his utmost priority to the music, he would not have them. Hawkins also states, “that he had no female attachment of another kind may be ascribed to a better reason.” Though Thomas is eager to seek a hidden, homosexual meaning in the words, “better reason,” Donald Burrows offers a better interpretation:
By “a better reason,” Hawkins almost certainly meant that the fact that Handel did not live with a woman who was not his wife could be ascribed to his blameless morals: I thank Anthony Hicks for pointing this out. It is in the highest degree unlikely that Hawkins intended to hint that Handel had homosexual orientation: eighteenth-century Britain, and that part of it that formed Hawkins’s readership, would not have been sympathetic to such a hint (they certainly might not have regarded it as compatible with ‘blameless morals’), and Hawkins would have undercut the personal lustre that he clearly hoped to gain by claiming close acquaintance with the ‘great and good’ (though eccentric) Mr. Handel. In the absence of adequate social records conclusions regarding Handel’s sexual orientation must remain speculative . . . It would certainly be wrong to read secular modern assumptions about social behavior into the life of someone who had probably received a fairly strict Lutheran upbringing in eighteenth-century Germany.[8]
8. Donald Burrows, Handel (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996), 374.
In making these comments, Burrows is rightly stating that reading the homosexual angle back into Handel’s societal context is anachronistic, and that, because of Handel’s desire to associate with a certain crowd, he would most likely would not have hinted at anything of the sort, especially with a Lutheran upbringing. As those who seek to read the Bible and history faithfully, we should be wary of this type of anachronistic interpretation. Just as we do not want God’s Word to be defiled by queer interpretations, so too Christians should seek the most faithful interpretation of those who followed Christ. These are our brothers and sisters in Christ, and we should do them nothing but the highest honor, knowing that we will one day reign alongside them.
A Better Interpretation
When arriving at a faithful interpretation of Handel, therefore, Thomas fails to consider Handel’s religious devotion.
Comments and letters telling of Handel’s Christian devotion attest to his genuine love of his religion and God. Hawkins takes note in the second volume of his A General History of the Science and Practice of Music:
The loss of his sight, and the prospect of his approaching dissolution, wrought a great change in his temper and behavior. He was a man of blameless morals, and throughout his life manifested a deep sense of religion. In conversation he would frequently declare the pleasure he felt in setting the Scriptures to music; and how much the contemplating the many sublime passages in the Psalms had contributed to his edification; and now that he found himself near his end, these sentiments were improved into solid and rational piety, attended with a calm and even temper of mind. For the last two or three years of his life he was used to attend divine service in his own parish church of St. George, Hanover-square, where, during the prayers, the eyes that at this instant are employed in a faint portrait of his excellencies, have seen him on his knees, expressing by his looks and gesticulations the utmost fervor of devotion.[9]
9. Hawkins, A General History, 910.
This is just one of many comments related to Handel’s piety. As it is well known, Handel signed off on his manuscripts, whether sacred or secular in content, with the abbreviation of ‘S.D.G.’, or ‘Soli Deo Gloria’ (Glory to God Alone). Though many musicians of his time and the classical eras did this, such as Bach and Haydn, one cannot think of it as an empty declaration. Better, one should ask, “Why promote a religion that at the time was so vehemently against such acts that he may have found pleasurable? How far does the facade go?” On this basis, there is good reason to reject Handel’s homosexuality, but there is also a positive argument, too.
Handel’s charitable behavior further demonstrates his Christian character. As William Coxe says in his Anecdotes of George Frederick Handel and John Christopher Smith:
Handel’s religious disposition was not a mere display, it was amply productive of religion’s best fruit, charity . . . He was no less bountiful to the Foundling Hospital; his early exertions in its favour were the principal support of that respectable establishment. He gave an organ to the chapel; and an annual benefit, by which seven thousand pounds was cleared in the course of a few years. He also presented the governors with the original score of the Messiah. His charity was by no means restricted to public donations, he was equally attentive to the claims of friendship, affection, and gratitude.[10]
10. Coxe, Anecdotes, 29.
All these examples are not to paint Handel as a perfect Christian by any sense, nor to judge Handel by the characteristics of the pastoral qualifications of 1 Timothy 3 or Titus 1. He was not a clergyman. Rather he was devoted Christian, as all the evidence suggests. Even in admitting his vice of overeating to the point of gluttony, his faith remains genuine.
Clothing Handel with the Truth of History
In the end, while some in the academy believe Handel’s purported homosexuality would have no effect on how the general populace views his music; they are more than likely reading their own desires into this shallow interpretation. Historically, a “gay Handel” would have done massive damage to his Christian witness. It was publicly known that Handel was a devout Lutheran, and his faith clearly motivated Charles Jennens to work with him on projects such as Messiah. Moreover, in choosing to take subjects from the Bible, Handel became something of a religious icon—an eighteenth century Michael W. Smith, if you will.
Truly, the supposed scenario where a pious Handel pours his heart and soul into composing something such as the Messiah, and then lives a sinful lifestyle that Christianity clearly abominates is quite contradictory. If true, this would taint all of his musical output and make Handel a hypocrite and liar. In this way, Thomas may take pleasure in “taking off” Handel’s heroic clothing, but this only shows the depravity of his own heart—not Handel’s.
So clearly, we should come to a different conclusion than Gary C. Thomas about Handel. But more, we should expose—and yes, unclothe—the destructive forces of queering history. While college campuses are filled with such lies, wearing academic regalia doesn’t make them true. Rather, critical theory only strips bare the truths of history and replaces them with cheap postmodern imitations. And Christians who happen to find themselves in such spaces need to be on guard and ready to argue for the facts of history.
As a musician I often hear the phrase ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ but as a Christian I know this is false. Beauty is in the eye of the One who beholds all, the One from whom all beauty stems. Accordingly, we should seek to honor God’s creation and the story that he is telling throughout history. This means honoring the gifts of faithful Christians that God has given, and even defending their honor, when unbelievers seek to smear them with queerness.
Instead of putting our modern assumptions and contexts back onto history so that we can deconstruct and reform into our own image, we show honor to God when we tell his story in the most truthful way possible. As we do so, we don’t have to delight in taking off the clothes of our heroes, but instead we can delight in robing ourselves with the truth for God’s glory.