I was eighteen now, just gone. Eighteen was not a young age. At eighteen old Wolfgang Amadeus had written concertos and symphonies and operas and oratorios and all that cal, no, not cal, heavenly music. And then there was old Felix M. with his "Midsummer Night's Dream" Overture. And there were others. And there was this like French poet set by old Benjy Britt, who had done all his best poetry by the age of fifteen, O my brothers. Arthur, his first name. Eighteen was not all that young an age then. But what was I going to do?
The narrator reflects on turning eighteen, expressing a sense of urgency and pressure to achieve greatness, much like historical figures who accomplished remarkable feats at a young age. He compares himself to famous composers and poets, noting that figures such as Mozart and Felix Mendelssohn created significant works before reaching adulthood. This comparison highlights his feelings of inadequacy and the societal expectations placed on young talents.
Amidst these reflections, the narrator questions his own direction and purpose in life. Despite acknowledging that eighteen is not particularly young based on these precedents, he grapples with uncertainty about his future endeavors. The internal conflict emphasizes a broader theme of youthful ambition versus the fear of falling short in comparison to accomplished predecessors.
