Graham's Magazine, Vol. XX, No. 5, May 1842Various
General
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XX, No. 5, May 1842
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
“You have done wrong: for the mere fact of your having made the attempt
is no small proof of your talent. We learn music when we are children,
because papa and mamma will have it so; now you go to work jingling and
fiddling, but imperceptibly the mind becomes susceptible to music.
Perhaps the half-forgotten theme of the little song, which you formerly
sang, was the first original thought, and from this embryo, nourished
laboriously by foreign powers, grows a giant, who consumes all within
his reach, and changes all into his own flesh and blood! Ah, how is it
possible to point out the innumerable influences which lead a man to
compose. There is a broad high-way, where all are hurrying round and
shouting and screaming; we are the initiated! we are at the goal! Only
through the ivory door is there entrance to the land of dreams; few ever
see the door and still fewer pass through it. All seems strange here.
Wild forms move hither and thither and each has a certain character—one
more than the others. They are never seen in the high-way; they only can
be found behind the ivory door. It is difficult to come out of this
kingdom. Monsters besiege the way as before the Castle of Alsinens—they
twirl—they twist. Many dream their dream in the Kingdom of
Dreams,—they dissolve in dreams,—they cast no more shadows—otherwise
by means of their shadows they would perceive the rays which pass
through this realm; only a few awakened out of this dream, walk about
and stride through the Kingdom of Dreams—they come to Truth. This is
the highest moment;—the union with the eternal and unspeakable! It is
the triple tone, from which the accords, like stars, shoot down and spin
around you with threads of fire. You lie there like a chrysalis in the
fire, until the Psyche soars up to the sun.”
As he spoke these last words, he sprang up, and raised his eyes, and
threw up his hand. Then he seated himself and quickly emptied the full
glass. A silence ensued, which I would not break, through a fear of
leading this extraordinary man out of his track. At last he continued in
a calmer manner—
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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