‘This is Fate, the force of destiny, which ever prevents our pursuit of happiness from reaching its goal, which jealously stands watch lest our peace and well-being be full and cloudless, which hangs like the sword of Damocles over our heads and constantly, ceaselessly poisons our souls. It is invincible, inescapable.’ — Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky wrote these bleak words to describe the programme of his Fourth Symphony, in which the unyielding nature of fate is symbolized by an opening fanfare of ear-ringing, spine-chilling dimensions.

In the Homeric epics, fate is framed as a force that rules over gods and humans alike, with the course of everyone’s life mapped out from birth. No matter how Oedipus tries to evade the prophecy that he will kill his father and marry his mother, this is exactly what happens. And Cassandra’s warnings go unheeded, like so many other prophecies by sibyls and seers, because she has been cursed and Troy must fall.

Is it blind fate or an unforgiving God that forces Jephthah to sacrifice his daughter? Is it Macbeth’s belief in the witches’ prophecies that brings about his rise and fall? Is Christ’s redemptive Passion rooted in Judas’s free will, or was his betrayal preordained all along? What can we decide for ourselves, and where are we dependent on God’s grace? These religiously charged questions mirror the broader philosophical inquiry into human free will. Thus, the issue of the principles guiding our actions features as well. For in the case of the tragedy depicted in Das Floß der Medusa (The Raft of the Medusa), morality was the first thing to go overboard… Luigi Nono’s Io, frammento dal Prometeo makes a powerful plea for relief: ‘PLACA questa sventura di vivere / APPEASE I beg you this misfortune of living’.

Walter Weidringer

Translation: Sebastian Smallshaw