But it is the third movement, the _Allegro ironico_, that opened your
sluices and produced your genius. For in the conception of Mephisto you
found in Goethe, you found your own spiritual equation. You, too, were
victim of a disillusioned intellect that played havoc with all you found
pure and lovely and poured its sulphuric mockery over all your
aspiration. For all your mariolatry, you were full of "der Geist der
stets verneint." And so you were able to create a musical Mephisto that
will outlive your other work, sonata and all, and express you to other
times. For here, all that one senses dimly behind your sugared and
pretentious compositions speaks out frankly. Listening to this mighty
scherzo, we know the cynicism that corroded your spirit. We hear it
surge and fill the sky. We hear it pour its mocking laughter over grief
and longing and pride, over purity and tenderness in those outrageous
orchestral arabesques that descend on the themes of the "Faust" and
"Marguerite" movements, and whip them into grinning distortions. We hear
it deny and stamp and curse, topple the whole world over in ribald
scorn. The concluding chorus may seek to call in another emotion. You
may turn with all apparent fervor and pray "das Ewig-Weibliche" to save
you.
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