THIS biography is not an unqualified eulogy. It is the first life of Gustav Mahler written by one who cannot boast a more or less intimate personal acquaintance with him. It is, nevertheless, the first account of his life based on his collected letters* the recent publication of which has at last made available material proving him to have been a far more human and fascinating figure than the haloes of sentiment cast over him by German biographies will admit. Therefore, the author of this book, the first on the subject conceived and written in English, believes he is justified in having made frequent and generous quotations from these letters, and acknowledges gratefully the kindness of the publisher, Paul Zsolnay of Vienna, in permitting him to make them.

Mahler's compositions receive much the same treatment in these pages as other incidents in his life; for he lived his works, and nothing was more abhorrent to him than the guide-book explanations and programmatic rhapsodies which constitute the rather rambling method of the biographies by his countrymen.

The book is necessarily short; for it is a first word from a new point-of-view. Yet it is no mere chronicle of dates and facts intended to preface an esthetic discussion of the thousand and one details of nine colossal symphonies. It is primarily and almost entirely a narrative.

*Gustav Mahler Briefe. Paul Zsolnay Verlag, Vienna.

Gustav Mahler--Song Symphonist was published by the Bruckner Society of America in 1932. The complete text is presented here, along with photographs and scans of other documents taken from sources other than Engel's book. (Engel's book is text only.) For reference purposes, this web book tracks the original printed edition exactly. The original page numbers are used (presented at the bottom of each original page's text), and the information presented in the appendixes is circa 1932. One of the reasons I put this book on the web is that students frequently use my pages as their reference (sometimes main reference) for reports, assignments, etc. Anyone using this book as a reference can cite it as a plain, paper book--aside from photographs and illustrations, nothing has been changed from the printed book.

Please note that I make no claim to copyrighted material. I have spoken to one of the surviving directors of the Bruckner Society, and he has said that he couldn't see any opposition to presenting Society publications on the web at no charge. However, I do not claim to have authorization from whomever holds any copyrights of Gabriel Engel or his estate. Certainly the photographs and illustrations I've added to Engel's text are the property of various individuals and organizations, presented here for noncommercial purposes.

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THE utmost efforts of the studious countryman, J- Bernhard Mahler of Kalischt, Bohemia, to better himself had net him after many discouraging years only the modest dignity of a rustic private-tutor. The hopelessly cramped environment of the sleepy village mocked his futile bookishness, and calmly watched him waste the best years of his early manhood getting a bare living by driving a wagon or slaving in a factory. To those about him the development of his stern character meant nothing, but as a man destined to become the father of a genius he assumes definite significance in the eyes of a world convinced of the tremendous importance of heredity.

There was no sentiment in the man's emotional make-up. Purely out of an inculcated sense of duty he turned his attention at the age of thirty to the problem of establishing a household of his own. He looked about him shrewdly for an ideal helpmate in this undertaking and decided upon the gentle and obedient Marie Hermann, daughter of a neighboring soap-boiler. There was no question of a love-match, but by sheer strength of will he won the girl's consent. Of the twelve children that issued from this marriage the first, a boy, died in earliest infancy. The second, Gustav, joined the childless couple on July 7, 1860.*

*Biographers are agreed upon July 7. Unfortunately, the written record has disappeared, and since the composer always regarded July 1 as his birthday, this chronological riddle will perhaps never be solved.

The house of Gustav Mahler's birth was the typical little peasant-shack, a dwelling so poor that its windows could not even boast panes. The composer related in later years that this detail and a large puddle of water before the door were for him the unforgettable · features of the place. However, Bernhard Mahler had no intention of subjecting his son to the educational disadvantages that had frustrated his own ambition, and the very same year, with baby Gustav only five months old,, the little family migrated to the not distant provincial town of Iglau.

The influence of these new, highly picturesque surroundings upon the nature of the growing child was, no doubt, tremendous. The vital atmosphere of the high valley in which the town lay and the deep, hilly woods ranging on every side so rich in mysterious folk-lore surely lent their essence to the colorful music Mahler composed in later years. Besides, Iglau, at that time still untouched by the modernizing railroad, was utterly free from the political excitement racking the outer world. For many generations the townspeople had lived peacefully side by side unswayed by creed differences. The significance of this circumstance must not be overlooked, for although Gustav Mahler was of JeWish extraction, throughout his arduous, yet meteoric rise to the throne of music he never complained of religious discrimination.*

The early childhood of great men is handed down to posterity in the shape of a few anecdotes chosen to show the first promise of their genius. Of such

*Alfred Roller relates that in those last sad days preceding Mahler's resignation from the Viennese Opera House, he said bitterly, "Is it not strange that the anti-semitic papers are the only ones that still seem to have some respect left for me?"

stock stories there are several revealing the phenomenal musical endowment of little Gustav. One tells how at the age of two he could sing hundreds of folk-songs and already exhibited a preference for music of a military nature. More credible, perhaps, is the claim of another that he could at four play correctly on an accordian all the march tunes used in the neighboring barracks. Certainly the Mahler symphonies, with their great wealth of rhythmic material in strikingly martial settings, are eloquent corroboration of the story of the extraordinary little boy who surrendered his soul to the brazen spell of signalling trumpets, and was compelled by some mysterious power to haunt the vicinity of the barracks lest he miss the strange voice of beauty lurking deep beneath this music's stern, drab medley.

The occasion that inaugurated his real musical training occurred upon a visit to the home of his grandparents. The four-year-old child* was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Anxious search finally located him in the attic engrossed with an old piano upon which he was picking out well-known tunes with the greatest ease.

An anecdote of unusual psychological interest is the following: One day father Mahler took little Gustav with him to the woods, but suddenly reminded of some forgotten chore he decided to hurry back home. Seating the child on a tree-stump, he said, "Stay here and wait. I'll be back very soon." In the meanwhile visitors had arrived at the house, and in the excitement he completely forgot about Gustav until it was almost sunset. Apprehensive, he now ran

*According to Mrs. Mahler's preface to the "Briefe."

back to the woods only to find the boy still sitting just as he had been left before, but as though in a trance, with eyes full of wonder, fixed upon some marvelous fancied vision.

Of all the stories of his childhood this one throws most light upon Mahler the creator. There is an uncanny magnificence about this child which is the very soul of all the man's symphonies. Mahler has always been described as merely a seeker, but in reality he is, like all great creative artists, one who has come to us as a revealer. The truth and beauty constituting the soul of each artist's revelation the world has never failed eventually to fathom. The child who found Nirvana in the heart of the woods grew up to endow the world with that incomparable" Song of the Earth,"* the cradle-song of evolution sung to all life by Nature.

In the light of his lifetime of conflict with environment the following anecdote stands out with keynote significance. Upon being asked by someone what he would like to be when he grew up, little Gustav gave the amazing answer, "A martyr."

Iglau boasted the typical little theatre of the provincial town. Mahler's first activities as conductor were at theatres of similarly limited possibilities. The leader of this theatre, a man named Viktorin, became the child's first music-teacher. He was succeeded by a pianist named Brosch, under whom Gustav's progress was so rapid that he was at the age of seven delegated to teach an older boy. For this service the little pedagogue received five kreutzer (about two cents) an hour. This early affluence was, however, short-lived, for the unhappy pupil was soon unable

*Das Lied von der Erde.

to meet the exacting demands of the young tyrant and tearfully refused to go on with his studies.

Gustav's parents were naturally very proud of his promise and did everything that could be done by people in humble circumstances to hasten his musical development. They nourished in him a sense of responsibility and he grew up with a devotion to home and family that never abated. He understood perfectly that with so many children in the house (he was the oldest of seven) he would be compelled to make his own way as soon as possible.

He was always very fond of books; but in school he was considered inattentive. Now and then a whistled note suddenly invading the academic quiet of the class-room would testify that Gustav was far away in his own musical world, and the teacher would have to drag him back to earth with a shouted warning.

However small from a scholarly viewpoint may have been the face value of his musical education in Iglau, for Mahler its comparative freedom from the letter of the law seems to have been little short of ideal. His mind had the lightning-like grasp and analytic power characteristic of the boy Richard Wagner. Thus a mere hint was sufficient to whirl him unerringly through a whole chapter of complicated musical theory. Unfortunately, the mature Mahler destroyed every bit of his work which struck him as unworthy, leaving posterity no definite idea of the quality of his efforts during these early years. Yet many traits which later found full utterance in his symphonies doubtless took root in these Iglau days. The startling fantasy that caused him to clothe apparent trivialities with mystic, symbolic raiment sought spiritual nourishment through the omnivorous reading of poetic and romantic

works. His early inclination towards the weird and abnormal is attested by the famous musicologist, Guido Adler, his boyhood companion, who says Mahler read with especial avidity the gruesome tales of E. T. A. Hoffmann, our Edgar Allan Poe's great forerunner.