Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony essay

It has been called the greatest audio entity one could ever listen to; a song which can pierce the soul of even the most dedicated music-hater: Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Not only has it been designated thus; also, as one of the few truly divinely inspired works, one which most men can only marvel at, as they wallow in their appropriate humility. These creations, however, are definitely not the only aspects of entities beyond the scopes of men; there are far more examples, which are seen every day, but often overlooked.

I was walking outside, with this song echoing in the
recesses of my mind, on a dismal, overcast day in the
Autumnal quarter, a day when where the streets blended with
the atmosphere, when one could hardly look up without
feeling the singe of the wind against one’s face. To me,
these days have always conjured up images of some distant,
looming storm, some silent tempest which, if not otherwise
distracted will soon wreak mayhem and disaster on my
environs.

This day had an intense air about it, as do others
of its ilk. This is most likely the fault of the storm
under which it is shadowed, as though it and its inhabitants
are uneasy and harrowed about the imminent predator waiting
overhead to pounce.

As the sky overhead swam with deeper and deeper
shades of gray and hopeless black, the song in my mind was
reaching some vocal crescendo in the fourth movement, a
better foreteller of the gale I could not imagine. While
the winds bullied and tormented the defenseless
neighborhood, I started for my house.
Unexpectedly, as the crescendo was losing speed, a
quiet, pacific violin entered the musical fray in my brain,
and the entire mood of the symphony mellowed, the winds
themselves pacified, seemingly under Ludwig’s fickle
dominion. Thinking the storm had passed, I continued
blissfully onward to the meadows which were my destination.

Again I was assaulted, this time by a different part
of the symphony; not too long after the first chorale. This
was the startling and almost fearful, but still uplifting,
part in which the female and male vocals collided like two
huge tidal waves with the power to splinter a fleet of ships
with the German Alle Menschen repeated several times. Upon
this onslaught of euphony, I turned from whatever I might
have been thinking before, and looked at some violently
twisting and rising leaves and other debris, and gazed at
the playful heavens, again ominous.

Annoyed with Beethoven and the cruel elements, I
stood there, unmoving; indecisive, not knowing whether to
turn around or pursue my present course, I felt the excited
chorale still striking some unknown and inexplicable fear
within me, as though some divine creature were about to
strike me down in some vehemence which lies well beyond the
realms of verbal description. So, as the chorus continued
repeating its faithful mantra, the winds again rose up
stronger than before, as twigs began to snap and fall about
me; I was still, yet deeply moved.

Perplexed at the whimsy antics of nature, I was
about to retreat to my home, when, in the remarkable
symphony, a single male vocal broke through the complicated
entanglement of godly voices, and I, despite the protests of
my superego, decided to continue on with some alien, renewed
vigor against the gusty weather, as though I were the bearer
of news about the winner of a war or some other momentous
aftermath. At this, as though impressed with my display
of singular determination, the wind made itself placid,
laying down before me.

Violins were heard, along with the driving, male
voice. Suddenly, completely without warning and all at once,
what seemed like throngs of angelic, female voices sang as
though sent on an appeal to God on the eve of apocalypse.
They continued, soon joined by male voices, and other
instruments, in the most spiritual and epiphytic
reverberation I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing, and,
seemingly, all in my favor, against cruel and remorseless
nature, pleading to let me pass. I, however, felt like only
a petty bystander in this competition between the symphony
and the elements, completely unable to comprehend, let alone
justify either side’s wish, only able to observe the outcome
and obey it as the gospel that I knew it was.

Thus, whether or not I ever achieved my destination
is beside the point. My sojourn in that small neighborhood
taught me perhaps what is life’s most important lesson.
This lesson is clear: there are many things in this world
completely beyond most men’s small intellects. They may
manifest themselves in certain artworks, novels, or musical
masterworks; however, these manifestations only serve as
reminders to arrogant man. While it is true that these
manifestations are created by singular members of the
selfsame race, these members serve only as conduits of a
greater, nearly incomprehensible power; something which
they, themselves, may often forget.