upper voice. This is developed to a climax which, in turn, is
followed by one of those long periods of “cooling down” which
prepare us for the Recapitulation in measure 239. This corre-
sponds exactly with the Exposition, ending with two passages
(poco meno mosso and molto vivace),—based upon the rhythm
of the motto—which usher in the long, elaborate Coda. This
begins, maestoso, with an impressive statement of the march
theme, scored in brilliant fashion, with rushing figures in the
wood-wind instruments. It seems to portray some ceremonial
in a vast cathedral with trumpets blaring and banners flying.
A still more gorgeous treatment (marziale, energico, con tutta
forza) leads to the Presto based on the subsidiary theme (cited
on page 312), which fairly carries us off our feet. The last por-
tion of the Coda (molto meno mosso) is an animated yet digni-
fied proclamation of the main theme of the first movement—the
work thus concluding with an unmistakable effect of unity.
[Music]
The subject of Russian music[315] is too vast for any adequate
treatment within the limits of a single book, but there are several
other composers in addition to Tchaikowsky of such individu-
ality and remarkable achievement as to warrant some notice.
These men, Balakireff, Borodin, Rimsky-Korsakoff and Mous-
sorgsky, have done for the free expression of the Russian temper-
ament in music what Pushkin, Gogol and Dostoyevsky represent
in literature. “To understand fully the tendencies of Neo-Russian
music, and above all to sympathize with the spirit in which this
music is written, the incredible history of Holy Russia, the his-
tory of its rulers and people—the mad caprices and horrid deeds
of the Romanoffs, who, in centuries gone by, surpassed in rest-
less melancholy and atrocity the insane Caesars, and were more
to be pitied, as well as detested, than Tiberius or Nero—the
nature of the landscape, the waste of steppes, the dreariness
of winter, and the loneliness of summer—the barbaric extrava-
gance of aristocratic life—the red tape, extortion, and cruelty of
officers—the sublime patience of the common people—the de-
votion of the enduring, starving multitude to the Tsar—all this
should be as familiar as a twice-told tale. There should also be
a knowledge of Russian literature, from the passion of Pushkin
and the irony of Gogol, to Turgenieff’s tales of life among the
serfs, and the novels of Tolstoi, in which mysticism and real-
ism are strangely blended. Inasmuch as Neo-Russian music is