Debussy: The Preludes 165
cisely the opposite direction, that is, toward the unreflec-
tive, the spontaneous, the involuntary and instinctive.
Hence, his predilection for childlike natures, for the dramas
of Maeterlinck, whose shadowy characters act less than
they are acted upon—by Fate. As Remy de Gourmont
says of them, “they can but suffer, smile, love; when they
try to understand, their troubled efforts give way to anguish
and their revolt fades into sobbing. They are climbing,
always climbing, the painful slopes of Calvary only to strike
their heads against an iron door”. In a word, it is the
“human” side of nature and the “natural” side of man
which particularly interest Debussy. And in this respect
he is thoroughly characteristic of his age and generation,
the generation of Bergson, that was brought up on Darwin,
Taine, Bernard and Renan.
There are also illuminating analogies between certain
coloristic aspects of Debussy’s music and the technique of
impressionistic painting. Take, for example, the opening
measures of “Reflections in the Water”, where, by the use of
the sustaining pedal, Debussy has blended a whole series
of chords into one large, composite stretch of diaphanous
sonority. The procedure is quite characteristic of both his
piano music and the works for orchestra (where he secures
the same effect by glissandi on the harp, or by a subtle,
overlapping arrangement of the harmonies) and recalls