The Fifth Symphony was written in defiance of the terrible fear which sought to paralyze the aging man by whispering: you have sung yourself out, you have dried up, there is nothing more to expect from you. And see here: The symphony was great and good. It had melancholy and brilliance and, in between, an utterly rapturous lightness. And at the end, the proud and passionate exuberance of one who has defended himself with great valor.