Still more interesting things I'm discovering about music (using my new, end-of-life, technical approach of "Just play the damn Notes in the Order they're written"):

Chopin's still too hard, and Liszt continues ridiculously out of reach (and who'd want to, anyway?); but Mozart and Beethoven sonatas have gotten astoundingly easy.  And, Beethoven, far more beautiful--I should say, far, far more beautiful--than I had ever imagined.  Maybe I mean even, astoundingly, philosophically, from-another-world more beautiful.  And I've always liked Beethoven. So maybe it's time to talk about pedophilia.  

Beethoven, of course, was a pedophile, as people who had charge and governance of their nephews in his day sometimes were, or could be when they felt like it--and there was nothing that the nephews (while they were still in their minority), or that the mothers of the nephews (or the sisters-in-law of the pedophiles) could do about it. Usually it didn't hurt the nephews too much.  You could even say, over all, that it was probably good for them.  And when they came into their majority (turned 18 and were no longer dependent children), they could confront their uncles, and say, "Well, that was then. Maybe nobody would believe what you did to me all those years--but now I'm going to get married, to a woman, and live my own life.  So give me my inheritance from my dead father, and leave me forever the hell from now on alone."  And that's what Karl van Beethoven did and said to his uncle Ludwig (so far as we know) when he turned 18, and went off to found Pullman Cars on passenger railways, and become a happy, rich and successful man in his own right.

Is any of what I have just written true? I urge you to consult your official (say, Thayer's) biography of Beethoven and to seek proofs to the contrary.