Categories: Music

Goethe’s Prometheus and Schubert’s Setting

Greek mythology bestows upon us numerous stories that many find appealing, such as the Prometheus myth. Johann Wolfgang Goethe, who considered himself paganistic but believed in divinity, takes this titanic myth and presents to his audience a different approach to the creation of mankind. Naturally, if one knew the Prometheus myth, he or she would be quicker to associate Prometheus with the theft of fire from the gods rather than the creation of mankind; however, Goethe writes about Prometheus in a setting before Prometheus is punished by the Greek god Zeus for stealing precious fire and displays stronger and more thoughtful characteristics of the titan.

Almost unnoticeably does Goethe make a reference to Prometheus’s theft of fire; Goethe writes it so that Prometheus says “meinen Herd” – or “my fireside” – displaying an innocent tone, suggesting he did not steal fire but owns the glowing warmth. Many of Goethe’s traits are clearly portrayed through “Prometheus,” including his belief in intellectual independence, clarity of thought, confidence in human nature, and affirmation of life. Prometheus’s character is further enhanced by Franz Schubert, one of the composers who set Goethe’s Prometheus text to music, who turns the piece into a powerful tonal drama.

The musical texture of Schubert’s setting of Goethe’s “Prometheus” bears a strong resemblance to an operatic scene, consisting of appropriate techniques for a text that illustrates a critical moment in Prometheus’s life and thoughts. First, Schubert introduces the story with a piano introduction, which maintains great importance all within six measures of forte musical aggressiveness. As the piano tempestuously bangs in on three B-flats, thereafter descendingly outlining the B-flat major triad, Schubert makes no intricate preparation to flow into the next key: the next measure suddenly sounds in A-flat major and is immediately followed by an E-flat major harmony in measure three, which the audience may hear as a plagal cadence in E-flat major.

Ironically, the plagal cadence – also known as the “amen cadence” because of its constant use in hymns – ends the first phrase, foreshadowing Prometheus’s address to the gods and playing on the idea that this is a poetic anti-hymn critiquing religion. The second phrase of the piano introduction – measures four through six – is just a sequence of the first three measures beginning on the descending outline of the E-flat major triad but ending on a stronger cadence – a perfect authentic cadence (D major to G minor) – instead. Another musical implication is sounded out to the audience: the phrases are continually descending, foreshadowing Prometheus’s fated downfall after the events depicted in Goethe’s text.

Furthermore, Schubert’s juxtaposition of two successive phrases in different keys represents a mixture of thoughts, but not necessarily within one character. The tonally ambiguous first six measures present conflict even before Prometheus boldly addresses the gods. The conflict between weak and strong is heard between the two successive phrases, each ending in plagal and authentic cadences, which can be seen as the weak and strong forces, respectively. Prometheus and Zeus can be characterized by these two short, clashing three-measure phrases, but to say who is truly the stronger or weaker of the two is undeterminable with only six measures of the story told thus far.

Besides presenting the audience with conflict, the piano introduction serves as a “reflection period” for Prometheus and the audience. Goethe’s text portrays Prometheus well, but only a section of the mythological character’s life is presented to the audience. The sudden bang on the piano with no gradually increasing introduction tells the audience that they are being thrust into the middle of an ongoing argument: it is safe to assume there were preceding events before the piano sounded that serve as justification for Prometheus’s bold claims once his speech begins. As the piano plays for six measures, Prometheus is thinking of how and what to say to the gods.

When Prometheus, as the singer portrays him, finally enters in a recitative there is a strong aura of scorn heard in both the voice and thunder-like G minor piano accompaniment tremolo, imitating a distant rumble on Mount Olympus. Although Prometheus has a strong and solid commanding tone, he is not looking to subdue Zeus; Prometheus’s song is of blame against the gods. Prometheus’s commanding statements are not out of arrogance, but a comeback perhaps from a prior statement made by Zeus: if Zeus thinks he can intimidate Prometheus, Prometheus’s only reply is to be audacious. In Prometheus’s explosive speech directed solely at Zeus for the first stanza, each sentence is pitched almost inconceivably higher than the last, heightening the sense of unrestrained condemnation. The audience knows Prometheus is directly addressing Zeus in the first stanza not only because he says Zeus’s name, but because “Zeus” is extended for two and half beats, tied across the bar-line, as if Prometheus is calling Zeus out by shouting up to the distant heavens, past the rumbling Mount Olympus and making sure Zeus knows he’s being addressed here and now. Schubert ends the first stanza with Prometheus simply telling Zeus “you envy me,” a very forward statement to make to such a high figure. Thus, Schubert treats the last word of the stanza, “benedeist,” as an introduction of a new thought – the destitution of the gods – which Schubert continues with a brusque outpouring of fury in the next stanza.

At the beginning of the second stanza, Prometheus directs his speech to all the gods, not just Zeus. Originally, Prometheus’s lines “I know nothing more wretched / beneath the sun than you gods!” were a part of the first stanza in Goethe’s text, but Schubert cleverly cuts the first two stanzas according to whom Prometheus makes his address. Moreover, as Prometheus’s flaring frustration builds up through the first stanza, the first two lines of Schubert’s second stanza continue until the singer’s increasing tension hits the high E-natural above middle C on “als euch Götter!”, more forcibly said than sung, and ending on a dramatic half cadence in E-flat minor.

After a slight pause for Prometheus to regain his composure, Schubert changes the mood by switching the tempo to etwas langsamer – or somewhat slower – when Prometheus begins to sarcastically damn the gods. As Prometheus continues to accuse and belittle the gods in a lingering arioso, he sings of “offerings” and “prayer.” These references to church ceremonial clearly urged Schubert’s mastermind to compose an accompaniment written in four-part harmony, like typical Bach chorale music. The rising chromaticism suggests a feeling of rising terror or intimidation, most likely felt by the gods whose consciences are being picked at by a mere titan, for Prometheus is still singing with rising passion despite the slower tempo.

Still in etwas langsamer tempo, the tense of Prometheus’s soliloquy changes from the present to the imperfect in the third stanza since no moment in the present can be attended without the past. Contrary to Prometheus’s sarcasm in the previous etwas langsamer section, Prometheus sorrowfully begins to sing about the helplessness of childhood after a short pause before the change in moods which is clearly heard in the key change to D minor. The short pause between musical stanzas offers Prometheus a quick moment of reflection before he begins sharing his flashback to childhood. Upon reminiscing, the audience catches a drift of warmth and can hear in the music Prometheus’s ability to feel compassion. The audience is also exposed to Prometheus’s vulnerability: he, who has great physical strength, admits to once experiencing a pitiful life. During Prometheus’s retrospective moment, the piano accompanies him with simply rhythm and more tonal clarity than the previous sections, as if written for a child to play. Prometheus’s childhood flashback ends in an ambiguous cadence and almost immediately interrupted by another outburst.

Prometheus’s consequent outburst, unlike in the first stanza, is a series of rhetorical questions. Here, Prometheus is, in a sense, telling his own myth. Schubert’s musicality helps the audience imagine the brute war between the gods and titans – an event preceding this speech and one reason Prometheus carries such strong feelings of contempt toward the gods – by setting the text to uproarious diminished-sevenths. Right in the middle of the stanza is the climax of realization – Prometheus’s apex of intellectual independence and clarity of thought – when he sings “Did you not accomplish it all yourself, sacred, ardent heart?” The word for heart – “herz”- indicates compassion and is on a passing tone set on a F-natural, the highest note in the whole piece and generally the most troublesome note to sing for a singer in Prometheus’s voice range. Upon reaching the climactic F-natural, Prometheus has come to the realization that the only resource for his emancipation from fear and subserviency to the higher beings is himself while the piano sounds the most monumental chords in the whole song, emitting a victorious glow.

Unfortunately, Prometheus’s realization remains suspended on the dominant of E-flat minor and is never to be resolved. Opposing the victorious glow, the lack of resolution is a sad realization for the audience. This unresolved suspension gives Prometheus a false sense of victory and predicts Prometheus’s eventual downfall: his victory over Zeus and the gods will not be a full victory despite his increasing confidence and strength displayed throughout the song.

The following stanza continues with more rhetorical questions, but in a changed tempo set to geschwinder which is meant to arouse Prometheus’s growing agitation. The agitation fades away slightly before Prometheus asks, “Did not almighty Time and eternal Fate, my masters and yours, forge me into a man?”. The marked fortissimo at the beginning of this phrase imitates the sound of Prometheus hammering away at the creation of mankind. A descending sequence of chromatic harmony continues through Prometheus’s question; hearing a torrid arrangement of chords where flats change to sharps and sharps to natural musically illustrates the formation of human beings being molded by Prometheus. Additionally, Prometheus intends to continue his condemnation of the gods; he wants to crush their sense of dominance. Schubert helps Prometheus achieve this by setting the words “und deine” – “and yours” – on anticlimactic pitches to be uttered in contempt, not hesitance; thus, Prometheus towers over the gods musically.