“Oh you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me. You do not know the secret cause which makes me seem that way to you.”
These are the words with which Ludwig Van Beethoven begin his so-called Heiligenstadt Testament written in 1802. In this document, addressed to his brothers but not found until after the composer’s death in 1827, Beethoven reveals his anguish at the prospect of his oncoming deafness, a truly terrible prospect for a musician. Yet, though the letter reads almost like a suicide note, the great man evidently did not commit suicide (the letter itself states, “it was only my art that held me back”), instead he went on to achieve greater heights of artistic genius than perhaps any other composer in history.
Had Beethoven died in 1802, he would have been nothing more than a footnote in musical history, known perhaps a great virtuosic performer of his day and as a composer who wrote a few works in the classical style of Haydn and Mozart, before an untimely death. But despite the prospect of his impending tragedy, the avoidance of which he knew to be impossible, Beethoven makes the conscious decision to live on nonetheless. “I was ever inclined to accomplish great things”, he writes, showing that he knew in himself what heights he was capable of, and no physical ailment was going to stop him. Rather, Beethoven turns his disadvantage into a strength. Through his own mighty force of will, Beethoven ceases to be known merely as a virtuosic performer or as a composer who utilises the styles of others, and rises above everything that has come before him. He uses his isolating illness to probe depths of the human psyche no musician had ever dreamt of.
Two years after the Heiligenstadt Testament, Beethoven had completed his third symphony, his epic ‘Eroica’. Twice as long as any symphony composed by anyone else, this work would have baffled and amazed audiences in 1805, when it was first performed, with its impressive scale, force and power.
Isolated though he was, Beethoven was well aware of events going on in the world at the time. A practitioner of Enlightenment values, Beethoven had been a supporter of the French Revolution and had supported Napoleon in his early days, and it was to that world historic figure that Beethoven had originally dedicated the ‘Eroica’, that is, until he learned that Napoleon had crowned himself Emperor, in opposition to the revolutionary values that Beethoven also held. The original manuscript of the score still bares the scars of Beethoven’s wrath, with Napoleon’s dedication scratched out with such force as to tear the page. Instead, Beethoven dedicates the piece “to the memory of a great man”.
In this symphony, Beethoven celebrates the glory of the individual, the enlightened man who stands in opposition to all the forces of endarkenment. The ‘Eroica’ of the title, the heroic man, is he who makes himself all that which he has it in him to be. The piece could almost be a musical description of the Nietzschean concept of the übermensch, the superman who rises above the writhing mass of Last Men.
When Napoleon’s French forces occupied Vienna, Beethoven’s wealthy patron, Prince Lichnowsky was entertaining some of them one night, and Beethoven was invited to attend the evening. When the prince asked Beethoven to play for them, Beethoven exploded into a rage, not wishing to be presented as an attraction to the foreign invaders. Beethoven makes his allegiance quite clear when he says to the Prince, “What you are, you are by accident of birth; What I am, I am by myself. There are and will be a thousand princes; There is only one Beethoven.”
Beethoven made himself the greatest composer of all time and, despite becoming profoundly deaf, still managed to compose works of impossible brilliance, such as the Missa Solemnis and his 9th Symphony. Such is the power of the Will.
Like Beethoven in the Heiligenstadt Testament, I now stand at a crossroads. I can disappear into obscurity, or I can pour out the contents of my soul and elevate myself to the heights I know I can reach. Like Beethoven, I am disadvantaged by ailments and by circumstances, but, like him, I can turn these to my advantage.
My work is not vocational. It can not become my career. Though it will require great skill, craftsmanship and much hard work, I don’t intend to make a penny from it. My work, as all art should, belongs to all, to be used by anyone who finds benefit in it.
My progress thus far has been slow and arduous, but, like Beethoven, I now strengthen my resolve and am ready to take the first step of a perilous journey, from Cimmeria to Hyperborea.
As Nietzsche said, “The higher we soar, the smaller we seem to those who cannot fly.”
Omega Synthesis 