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Essay/Term paper: Beethoven

Essay, term paper, research paper:  Essays

Free essays available online are good but they will not follow the guidelines of your particular writing assignment. If you need a custom term paper on Essays: Beethoven, you can hire a professional writer here to write you a high quality authentic essay. While free essays can be traced by Turnitin (plagiarism detection program), our custom written essays will pass any plagiarism test. Our writing service will save you time and grade.

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.  

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