I myself had a strange feeling of
giddiness, as if an ocean had been upheaved, and I thought that for the
first time for thirty years Germany had found a poet of Victory.
_Heldenleben_ would be in every way one of the masterpieces of musical
composition if a literary error had not suddenly cut short the soaring
flight of its most impassioned pages, at the supreme point of interest
in the movement, in order to follow the programme; though, besides this,
a certain coldness, perhaps weariness, creeps in towards the end. The
victorious hero perceives that he has conquered in vain: the baseness
and stupidity of men have remained unaltered. He stifles his anger, and
scornfully accepts the situation. Then he seeks refuge in the peace of
Nature. The creative force within him flows out in imaginative works;
and here Richard Strauss, with a daring warranted only by his genius,
represents these works by reminiscences of his own compositions, and
_Don Juan, Macbeth, Tod und Verklaerung, Till, Zarathustra, Don Quixote,
Guntram_, and even his _Lieder_, associate themselves with the hero
whose story he is telling. At times a storm will remind this hero of his
combats; but he also remembers his moments of love and happiness, and
his soul is quieted.
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