The humanist novel, in its grand tradition, has often served as a mirror reflecting the complexities of the human condition, its triumphs, and its tragic flaws. Thomas Mann’s Doctor Faustus, a monumental work of 20th-century German literature, stands as a particularly poignant lament for humanism in the face of encroaching barbarity. This article delves into the essence of this lament through the imagined lens of a musical oratorio, “The Lamentations of the Humanist Novel,” inspired by and reflecting the profound themes of Doctor Faustus.
I. A Trio of Order, Humanity, and Love
The oratorio opens with an overture, guided by the narrator-conductor Serenus Zeitblom, echoing Mann’s own narrative voice in Doctor Faustus. Zeitblom, a humanist scholar and friend of the fictional composer Adrian Leverkühn, serves as our guide through this musical exploration of humanity’s trajectory. The overture itself is a microcosm of the oratorio’s journey, beginning with Haydn’s Creation, symbolizing the genesis of order from chaos. The angelic harps and Holst’s planetary harmonies evoke the initial harmony of the cosmos, a reflection of the humanist ideal of a rational and ordered world. However, the unsettling presence of Verdi’s Macbeth witches and Liszt’s Mephisto Waltzes foreshadows the looming darkness, hinting at the Faustian bargain that underpins the narrative of Doctor Faustus and the oratorio alike.
The first part of the oratorio, “A Trio of Order, Humanity, and Love,” celebrates the inherent goodness found in nature, mirroring the humanist appreciation for the natural world as a source of morality and inspiration. Vivaldi’s vibrant seasons transition into Beethoven’s pastoral serenity and Mahler’s evocative Naturlaut, painting a musical landscape of pristine beauty. Hildegard of Bingen’s mystical chants introduce a spiritual dimension, reinforced by Holst’s Neptune, the mystic planet, creating an atmosphere of celestial harmony. This section culminates in a duet for Adam and Eve from Haydn’s Creation, symbolizing the dawn of humanity in a paradisiacal setting, their song “So Wunderbar” expressing the wonder of existence and the purity of love. Holst’s Venus further underscores the idyllic nature of this love. Yet, the idyllic is subtly disrupted by darker chords, a musical premonition of the fall, as Haydn’s angelic warning hints at the dangers of transgressing divinely ordained boundaries – a theme central to the Faustian myth explored in Mann’s Doctor Faustus. This section establishes the initial humanist vision: a world founded on order, nature, and love, a vision soon to be challenged and corrupted.
II. Barbarism Lurks and Love Affected
The second part, “Barbarism Lurks and Love Affected,” marks a shift towards the complexities and vulnerabilities of the human condition. Mozart’s Magic Flute and its Temple of Wisdom represent the Enlightenment ideals of reason and humanism reaching their zenith. Lüther’s hymn Ach Gott, vom Himmel sieh darein echoes within the temple, a plea for divine guidance as humanity navigates the complexities of existence. Love, a central tenet of humanism, is further explored through Berlioz’s Damnation of Faust, with Marguerite’s passionate aria D’Amour l’ardente flame. However, this section quickly descends into dissonance, reflecting the corruption of love and the encroachment of barbarism. Verdi’s Othello portrays the destructive power of jealousy and betrayal, demonstrating how even the most noble human emotions can be twisted. The chilling quote, “You may not love. Love is forbidden you insofar as it warms. Your life shall be cold – hence you may love no human,” encapsulates the dehumanizing forces at play, a stark reflection of the moral decay depicted in Doctor Faustus.
Nationalism, a potent force of division and conflict in the 20th century, is introduced as a key element of this barbarism. Handel, the internationalist composer, is invoked as a counterpoint, his music representing a cosmopolitan humanism that transcends national boundaries. Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring and its primal, nationalistic rhythms question whether culture has strayed too far from the pursuit of beauty, becoming instead a vehicle for destructive ideologies. The section concludes by posing a crucial question: “Ethics, Love, Aesthetics, Peace, Morality, and Creativity… You can’t have them all. Something has to be sacrificed.” This reflects the tragic choices and compromises inherent in the human condition, and particularly relevant to Leverkühn’s Faustian pact in Doctor Faustus, where artistic genius comes at a devastating moral cost.
III. Rebellion Against Order – The Devilish
“Rebellion Against Order – The Devilish,” the third part, delves into the heart of chaos and the seductive allure of transgression, mirroring Leverkühn’s descent into darkness in Doctor Faustus. Diminished sevenths, musically unsettling and unresolved, introduce this section, symbolizing the breakdown of tonal order and the descent into moral ambiguity. Holst’s Uranus, the Magician, returns, now associated with the chaotic and unpredictable forces of artistic creation and perhaps, destructive innovation. The witches’ Sabbath from Boito’s Mephistopheles amplifies the sense of demonic revelry and the rejection of established norms.
This part questions the nature of artistic freedom: “For how much freedom is there in artistic creation? Can one deny one’s tradition and preexisting compositions? Aren’t any new creations variations of a given theme?” These questions resonate with Leverkühn’s innovative yet ultimately diabolical musical compositions. The conductor, Zeitblom, representing rational control and humanist interpretation, feels lost amidst the chaos, asking, “Is the Conductor a sort of Führer in this chaos?” This chilling question directly confronts the anxieties of the era in which Doctor Faustus was written, reflecting on the potential for order to become oppressive and for the artist to become a figure of dangerous power. The section grapples with the limitations of language and art in the face of extreme suffering, echoing Paul Celan’s famous question about poetry after the Holocaust. It questions whether language can truly depict hell, and whether art can remain meaningful in a world marred by unimaginable horrors – a central concern in Mann’s exploration of Germany’s descent into Nazism in Doctor Faustus. The part concludes by questioning whether irrationality is the path to freedom, a dangerous proposition explored through Leverkühn’s pact and its devastating consequences.
IV. Hell is Where the Devilish Is. Fallen.
The fourth part, “Hell is Where the Devilish Is. Fallen,” plunges into the depths of despair and the consequences of Faustian transgression. Tritones, the diabolus in musica, create a jarring and unsettling soundscape, reflecting the descent into hell. Orpheus and composers like Gluck, Offenbach, and Monteverdi guide us through this underworld, a musical representation of humanity’s fallen state. The conductor’s role becomes increasingly desperate, “But in spite of their help I need throw the Dice and signal to the players. Each time we perform different variations of the past repertory, and the constellation of devilish, Mephistofelian compositions, can be played in succession or in a contrapuntal manner to let all possible dissonances create a new order.” This suggests an attempt to find order within chaos, to create something new from the fragments of a broken world, yet this new order is born from dissonance and darkness.
The oratorio invokes a vast array of composers associated with the Mephistophelean theme – Smetana, Gounod, Boito, Berlioz, Mussorgsky, and many others – creating a cacophony of demonic voices. Britten’s Requiem is introduced as a lament for the fallen, acknowledging the tradition of war and human suffering, and referencing places like the Balkans and the Black Sea as symbolic gates to Hades. Cage’s 4’33” represents the ultimate silence and emptiness, the aftermath of destruction, where only time remains, offering neither renewal nor damnation, just a void. The conductor’s futile baton-ticking underscores the sense of meaninglessness and the loss of emotional resonance. The question, “Who said that Hell was the loss of creativity?” poignantly summarizes the artistic and spiritual desolation at the heart of Doctor Faustus, where Leverkühn’s genius is ultimately a form of damnation.
V. On Retribution and Penitence
The final part, “On Retribution and Penitence,” seeks a path towards redemption, however uncertain. Mozart’s Commendatore from Don Giovanni, a figure of stern judgment and retribution, returns as a warning. The question hangs in the air: “Will he be enough to awaken our expiation, our Contrition?” The oratorio presents a choice between Wagnerian Götterdämmerung, a complete annihilation, and Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, a hymn to hope and universal brotherhood. Zeitblom, and perhaps Mann himself, chooses hope, opting for Beethoven’s Ninth. A secondary dominant in A for Art and Amor resolves into a cadential G for Grace and Goodness, offering a fragile Amen. This ending is not a triumphant resolution but a tentative step towards possible redemption, acknowledging the immense damage inflicted but clinging to the humanist values of art, love, grace, and goodness as potential sources of renewal. It mirrors the ambiguous ending of Doctor Faustus, where amidst the devastation, there remains a flicker of hope for a future beyond the darkness.
Through this imagined oratorio, “The Lamentations of the Humanist Novel,” we gain a deeper appreciation for the profound anxieties and artistic explorations within Thomas Mann’s Doctor Faustus. The musical framework illuminates the novel’s lament for a fractured humanism, grappling with themes of order and chaos, creation and destruction, and the enduring search for meaning in a world haunted by barbarism.
