And there is a part of every man of a generation in the work
done by the other members of it. The men who fashion the art of one's
own time make one's proper experiment, start from one's own point of
departure, dare to be themselves and oneself in the face of the
gainsaying of the other epochs. They are so belittling, so
condescending, so nay-saying and deterring, the other times and their
masterpieces! They are so unsympathetic, so strange and grand and
remote! They seem to say "Thus must it be; this is form; this is beauty;
all else is superfluous." Who goes to them for help and understanding is
like one who goes to men much older, men of different habits and
sympathies, in order to explain himself, and finds himself disconcerted
and diminished instead, glimpses a secret jealousy and resentment
beneath the mask. But the adventure of encountering the artist of one's
own time is that of finding the most marvelous of aids, corroboration.
It is to meet one who has been living one's life, and thinking one's
thoughts, and facing one's problems. It is to get reassurance, to accept
oneself, to beget courage to express one's self in one's own manner.
And we of our generation have finally found the music that is so
creatively infecting for us. We have found the music of the
post-Wagnerian epoch.
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