The first movement found the being of the soul involved with another—having, as it were, lost its essence. If the being upon which it depends reflects it back by a reciprocal dependence, it again becomes integral and independent. This cannot be; hence death or renunciation. But renunciation leaves the soul recoiling upon its finitude, and devoid of the universality it would have obtained by receiving its being through another which reciprocally depended upon it. Hence the necessity of Goethe’s and Beethoven’s solution—the soul must find surcease of sorrow through action, through will, or practical self-determination. Man becomes universal in his deed.
How fiercely the soul rushes into the world of action in this Finale! In its impetuosity it storms through life, and ever and anon falls down breathless before the collision which it encounters in leaping the chasms between the different spheres. In its swoon of exhaustion there comes up from the memory of the past the ghost of the lost love that has all the while accompanied him, though unnoticed, in his frantic race. Its hollow tones reverberate through his being, and he starts from his dream and drowns his memory anew in the storm of action. At times we are elevated to the creative moment of the artist, and feel its inspiration and lofty enthusiasm, but again and again the exhausted soul collapses, and the same abysmal crash comes in at the bass each time. The grimmest loneliness, that touches to the core, comes intruding itself upon our rapture. Only in the contest with the “last enemy” we feel at length that the soul has proved itself valid in a region where distinctions of rank sunder and divide no more.
This solution is not quite so satisfactory as could be desired. If we would realize the highest solution, we must study the Fifth Symphony, especially its second movement.
IV. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony,
(Part II.)
Marx finds in this symphony the problem so often treated by Beethoven—the collision of freedom with fate. “Through night to day, through strife to victory!” Beethoven, in his conversation with Schindler, speaking of the first “motive” at the beginning, said, “Thus Fate knocks at the door.” This knocking of Fate comes in continually during the first movement. “We have an immense struggle portrayed. Life is a struggle—this seems to be the content of this movement.” The soul finds a solution to this and sings its pæan of joy.
In the second movement (andante) we have an expression of the more satisfactory solution of the Problem of Life, which we alluded to when speaking of the Sonata above.
It (“The storm-tossed soul”) has in that consoling thought reached the harbor of infinite rest—infinite rest in the sense of an “activity which is a true repose.”
The soul has found this solution, and repeats it over to assure itself of its reality (1, 1, 1, 7, 1, 2, 1—these are the notes which express it). Then it wishes to make the experience of the universality of this solution—it desires to try its validity in all the spheres where Fate ruled previously. It sets out and ascends the scale three steps at a time (5, 1, 1, 2, 3—1, 3, 3, 4, 5) it reaches 5 of the scale, and ought to reach 8 the next time. It looks up to it as the celestial sun which Gothic Architecture points toward and aspires after. Could it only get there, it would find true rest! But its command of this guiding thought is not yet quite perfect—it cannot wield it so as to fly across the abyss and reach that place of repose without a leap—a “mortal leap.” For the ascent by threes has reached a place where another three would bring it to 7 of the scale—the point of absolute unrest; to step four, is to contradict the rhythm or method of its procedure. It pauses, therefore, upon 5—it tries the next three thoughtfully twice, and then, hearing below once more the mocking tones of Fate, it springs over the chasm and clutches the support above, while through all the spheres there rings the sound of exultation.
But to reach the goal by a leap—to have no bridge across the gulf at the end of the road—is not a satisfactory solution of the difficulty. Hence we have a manifold endeavor—a striving to get at the true method, which wanders at first in the darkness, but comes at length to the light; it gets the proper form for its idea, and gives up its unwieldy method of threes (1, 2, 3—3, 4, 5), and ascends by the infinite form of 1, 3, 5—3, 5, 8—5, 8, 3, &c., which gives it a complete access to, and control over, all above and below.
The complete self-equipoise expressed in that solution which comes in at intervals through the whole, and the bold application of the first method, followed by the faltering when it comes to the defect—the grand exultation over the final discovery of the true method—all these are indescribably charming to the lover of music almost the first time he listens to this symphony, and they become upon repetition more and more suggestive of the highest that art can give.