The misconceptions of Mahler 4
In the words of Theodore Adorno, the final movement of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony “paints paradise in rustic anthropomorphous colors to give notice that it does not exist.” While I can concede the “rustic anthropomorphous colors,” the notion that paradise does not exist isn’t something that is conveyed in this moment. Looking at Willi Reich’s translation of Mahler’s words regarding his Fourth Symphony, we can see that this is far from the intent of the final movement. Paradise still exists, yet at times the ungraspable quality of it strikes fear into the hearts of humankind.


The idea of a “sudden impulse of horror” amidst an otherwise idyllic and peace inducing setting is brought home by instances of panic and motion. Heard at rehearsal [3] is the return of anxious sleigh bells from the first movement. From that point on an unsettled mood makes itself at home in the orchestra accompanying the singer. Even the soloist takes on a foreboding quality in her song at rehearsal [5], as if to caution and soothe amidst the commotion caused by the ensemble. Four measures after rehearsal [7] another testament of the sleigh bells is complete and we suddenly return to the pastoral tranquility that signifies the “undifferentiated blue of heaven.” The tranquility quickly transitions into a slightly anxious and hectic gaiety before once again dipping into sorrow and an impulse of horror from the sleigh bells.
Truly, the vigorous motion and dissonance in the sleigh bell sections are exactly as Mahler describes “one being suddenly seized by panic.” These moments of intense activity are also what deter for me the lullaby perspective. Mahler scholarship has had a tendency to look at the Fourth Symphony as a big package of childhood nostalgia, especially the final movement. Ryan Kangas’s dissertation Remembering Mahler: Music and memory in Mahler’s early symphonies, dedicates its chapter on the Fourth Symphony to examining ways that this symphony is all about childhood and remembrance of bygone days.
These arguments are only partially compelling. I could’ve gotten into some of these takes and conceded that yeah, you know what, sleigh bells falling out of fashion through Mahler’s adult life might be pointing to the childhood analytical lens as holding validity. However all plausibility was completely tanked when second “molar children” and “molecular dogs” entered the conversation to justify interpreting the final movement as a lullaby. Let’s examine the quote from Deleuze and Guattari that Kangas brings to us for the benefit of explaining this concept:
You become-animal only if, by whatever means or elements, you emit corpuscules that enter the relation of movement and rest of the animal particles, or what amounts to the same thing, that enter the zone of proximity of the animal molecule. You become animal only molecularly. You do not become a barking molar dog, but by barking, if it is done with enough feeling, with enough intensity and composition, you emit a molecular dog.
This segment alone took eight read throughs to unpack, and to be quite honest even now I am not sure what’s really being said here. However, it does appear that these sentiments are being used to justify the perception of the final movement of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony as a lullaby. The music of this movement allegedly prompts “us to emit molecular children as we are soothed by the lullaby” and as such “forces us to acknowledge the irretrievability, even in memory, of the molar children that we once were.” You’ll have to pardon me for being a skeptic, but I do not find that this movement can count as a lullaby, even through the power of intense feeling. There are far too many interruptions in the idyllic scene for it to make any one sleep soundly. Let’s stick to the interpretive backbone given to us by the composer when scrutinizing this movement.