We can first begin by discussing The Eternal Feminine/das Ewig-Weibliche in

its source material and general context before moving on to how it can relate to
the paradigm of MadoMagi and Rebellion. Naturally, since this write-up is a more
thematic and comparative look on MadoMagi, I won't really focus on specific
parallels but draw more on sketching out new angles of attack for MadoMagi
interpretation that you've probably never encountered before, and I'll try to tie
in some of the other elements you might have read about, particularly Nietzsche
since he himself grapples a fair bit with Goethe. It will be a fairly simple but
hopefully summary read.

While das Ewig-Weibliche originated with Goethe, it doesn't come out of

nowhere, with Goethe drawing from precursors of "delimited womanhood": the figures
of Virgin Mary's purity and love, the Greek figure of Juno, Isis as the mother of
nature etc. If this sounds a bit hand-wavey, Faust literally enters the "realm of
the Mother" to search for an "ideal form" of beauty. Goethe also had this general
concept as a key aspect in his poetry: see the beginning of Der Wanderer for
instance. Accordingly, it seems natural to think that das Ewig-Weibliche is not
some throwaway line, and be concretely attributed to specific icons or specific
people. We will get back to this later. Instead, now we shift our focus from how
das Ewig-Weibliche was conceived to how it is now received.

In this day and age, the concept of an explicitly idealised "feminine" or

"masculine" spirit is pretty dated, especially with a more general discussion on
gender roles gradually replacing the old male/female binary. We can see how
Goethe's das Ewig-Weibliche eventually spread from religious iconography to a more
patriarchal archetype of ideal feminity, especially given the era when women were
expected to be "angels of the house". For more on this front, see Eichner's essay
"The Eternal Feminine: An Aspect of Goethe's Ethics". Also consider Cezanne's
L'Eternal Feminin and the discussions surrounding it for a quick primer.
Nevertheless, it still finds some purchase in places like Jungian archetypes or
Lacanian analysis, both of which are still (strangely) in vogue in Japan and all
the trashy Nihon-ron out there, albeit somewhat divorced from their originally
gendered context. Modern discussion on das Ewig-Weibliche thus tends to be
extratextual criticism and more sociological, shifting away from the pre-modern
mythical/religious focus. Here we will not try to cover either, and instead focus
on purely textual comparison and criticism. You can find more readings on JSTOR or
on LibGen if you're interested. Not Wikipedia though; not for this one in
particular.

Let us first recall the mystic chorus before moving forward.

"Alles Vergangliche ist nur ein Gleichnis; Das Unzulangliche, hier wird's
Ereignis; Das Unbeschreibliche, hier ist's getan; Das Ewig-Weibliche zieht uns
hinan."
Plainly speaking, everything in this fleeting life is a shadow of some
ineffable state which cannot be conveyed but only experienced and enacted. And what
brings us to this state is "das Ewig-Weibliche".

While interpretations as to what das Ewig-Weibliche is and means can diverge

very greatly, general reception tends to view it and the mystic chorus in general
as orthodox Christian iconography due to the almost-intercession by Mother Mary as
Faust ascends to Heaven. Most commonly, it is interpreted as divine grace and love,
a perspective which ties in very easily with the figure of Ultimate Madoka. At this
point, we can stop and call it a day. Faust worships and is saved by the apex of
love and beauty: Mary the Mater Gloriosa, and Homura worships and is (supposed to
be) saved by the apex of love and beauty: Madoka. Such a treatment cannot be wrong,
but it is quite sterile and inadequate as an interpretation, drawing more questions
than it answers.
 Furthermore, stopping here loses sight of the complexity of the source
material. Contextually, such a plainly Judeo-Christian take doesn't account for
conflations between Roman/Greek mythology and Christianity liberally used in the
Romantic period, and it would be quite uncharacteristic considering Goethe's own
difficulties with Christianity. And more importantly, this is a gross
simplification of how the text deals with the ideal of "feminity".

In general, the play also does play along traditionally gendered lines, what
with the plethora of historical and mythical figures: where the activity of men and
passivity of women condemn both equally to human faults. But this never removes
from them the possibility of salvation. Faust was, after all, brought up to Heaven
by the angels. But by whose intercession? Mary permits Gretchen to lead Faust on to
Heaven's higher spheres, deeper into the mystery, but this does not explain how
Faust was allowed to ascend in the first place. One can say it is the pleading of
the holy women that got Faust there. Or one could say that Faust had redeemed
himself by renouncing magic (hence negating the pact?) and genuinely striving for
the good of his people, in doing so discovering the value of goodness for goodness'
sake: discovering in short the apex of love and beauty within him. The matter is
quite undecidable, and we are confronted with the mystery of grace.

Most interestingly, the symbolic language of the play consistently refers not
to Christian iconography but pagan ones. There are too many examples to number --
one choice cut being the reference to Mary as a "goddess" --, but suffice it to say
that it is only at very few (though pivotal) points is the "feminine ideal"
portrayed as a self-effacing and sublime love. Instead, what is most emphasised is
"motherhood", from which grace and love are then derived: but not in the women of
the play, instead symbolically stretching out to nature: the very same Nature to
which Helen's attendants are returned to after she fades away into Hades, to which
Mater Gloriosa is the embodiment of while all the other women of the play are
either tragic figures who fall into despair, penitents who abide by Mother Mary's
abode, or wayfarers like Gretchen who are much like Faust but only a few steps
ahead. And indeed Mater Gloriosa here becomes a fitting moniker: nature births and
mothers the world; what more glory could there then be than the virgin birthing and
mothering of God? So we see in Act V that men and women alike drift onwards to
Mater Gloriosa floating in space.

Thus, quite peculiarly, we see that this "feminine ideal" is less attributed
to women than it is to nature: the woman the Other to Faust, and nature the Other
to humanity. In fact, Faust's very attempt to pursue and unite with such a woman
personified fails tragically: see Helen and Faust, especially Faust's opening
passage in Act IV where the cloud of Helen hangs about the earth "[r]eflecting deep
meaning from fine fleeting days" -- fleeting, transient, and hence ultimately. We
can say that the deepest division is not between the feminine and non-feminine, but
between the divine and the transient. This ties in very well the original conceit
of Faust: the wish for ultimate bliss. Here, Faust's answer seems to be that
ultimate bliss lies only in the divine. Mephistopheles was conned by God from the
very beginning, it seems!

In Goethe's Faust, das Ewig-Weibliche can hence be said to be a humanly

accessible symbol of a divine eternal mystery. Thus, Goethe's das Ewig-Weibliche is
not so much an idealised person, less so exemplified womanhood, but most
appropriately an abstract ideal of love and beauty which we discover in people.
Perhaps it is better described hence not as an archetype, but as an impulse. And
though we discover this ideal in others, we must actualise it ourselves to complete
the circle. Interestingly, this line of argument can also be entirely encapsulated
in the mystic chorus alone.

This segues very nicely into how das Ewig-Weibliche can be viewed in
MadoMagi.
 Madoka's icons are emblazoned with "Das Ewig-Weibliche" as a direct parallel
to Mater Gloriosa. But what is also interesting is to see where MadoMagi is not
like Goethe's Faust here. Rather than Faust ascending to Mater Glorioso, we have
Madoka descending upon Homura. The Angels are seen carrying "the immortal part" of
Faust up to Mater Glorioso, while Homura carries "the mortal part" of Madoka down
to Earth. One can make very much on this and related tangents, but since this is
just a brief primer, I won't go on too far.

But greater still can we take this into a contra-Faustian direction by

focusing not on Madoka, but on Homura. From here on, we'll be a lot less rigorous
and focus more on exploring connections and alternative points of views, because
there's no point in trying to elucidate an argument proper, and because I am tired.

First, let us digress slightly. This also ties in exquisitely well with
(Japanese) Buddhist approaches to MadoMagi. If you are familiar with general
Buddhist principles, you might have noticed that the prior discussion on Goethe's
Faust echoes a couple of familiar refrains: transience, fallibility, and what is
basically recontextualised enlightenment. This is probably a coincidence, so don't
think about it too much. Nevertheless, what's there is there, and we'll capitalise
on that.

Suppose we were take the perspective of Nichiren Buddhism: the act of wishing
itself is an other-power. Thus Madoka becomes an Amida figure to whom other-power
is channeled, and magical girls who have exhausted themselves can then be reborn in
the Pure Land. Das Ewig-Weibliche is not Madoka per se then but the power Madoka
works on magical girls; and just so, das Ewig-Weibliche can be likened not to the
Buddha but to the expedient vehicle which draws one towards enlightenment and away
from karma.

Similarly, it follows quite naturally that Homura should become Akuma Homura.
Das Ewig-Weibliche draws her higher, and like Faust, Homura literally "[unwinds] to
eternal love" (11964). In Goethe's Faust, as Faust is carried to the higher
heavens, Faust becomes as Gretchen. In Rebellion, Homura does not just overthrow
Madoka; she becomes as Madoka, completely actualising the ideal of das Ewig-
Weibliche as vehicle in her. In Nietzschean terms, Homura becomes an Ubermensch in
the same way as Madoka once did by self-overcoming. Homura's brand of love renders
her entire life in Madoka's light, just as how Faust realises as he goes blind the
glory of goodness and breaks through the divine mystery. However, this draws a
tension that does not feature in Goethe's Faust: Homura completely locks herself
out from an ideal state of innocence that is featured in her Labyrinth. There is no
"ultimate fulfillment" a la Nieztsche's Last Man, because that is a state of
nihilism. There is no perfection for her a la Faust, even though she comes to the
same Faustian epiphany. And quite naturally so, by rejecting Madoka's salvation and
her own pure Moemura self. Thus, she can be said to trigger her own Nieztchean
"transvaluation of values": replacing rest and repose in the Law of Cycles for a
life-affirming struggle to the very end: adopting a Nieztchean "will to power". We
find this contra-Faustian sentiment once again echoed by Nietzsche in Human, All
Too Human:

"What do we long for when we see beauty? To be beautiful. We think much

happiness must be connected with it. But that is an error."

Curiously, this also means it is possible to view Homura as a Buddha figure.

This may seem completely counterintuitive since the condition of Buddhahood is to
lose all fetters and become completely "self-less", and in most cases, to work for
the salvation of all beings: an orthodox description which almost completely fits
Madoka. But then the question comes: what does it mean to lose all fetters and what
does it means to become self-less? This is again a shifty topic, so we will ground
ourselves by, say, indulging in a bit of a Soto Zen/Dogen-ish stance: instincts and
desires are only terminated for the dead, for living corpses, as it were. There is
no such thing as a self-less being therefore, so long as one is alive. The approach
would hence instead be to uphold the precepts and purify the defilements of life
without clinging. In a similar fashion, Homura prevails by remaining genuine to das
Ewig-Weibliche and remains pure by not rejecting impurity. Many other branches of
Buddhist tenets are surprisingly sympathetic to the view of Homura as a Buddha too,
so give it a shot. This is terribly to reconcile with Nietzsche's demand for
persons to not act in bad faith, and we follow so.

Thus, we may take such a Nietzschean interpretation all the way and say that
while das Ewig-Weibliche was what Homura followed throughout, it has led her to The
Eternal Recurrence of The Same. To love Madoka is to love everything that had
brought her to Madoka, to want to, so to say, freeze time as it were, because it is
not just one moment that is bliss: every moment is. This is the same lesson Faust
learns in the end as well, something which comes to little surprise because, as
Nietzsche might put it, the entire spirit of Faust is Yes-saying. Faust's "will to
power" carries him from knowledge, to passion, to desire for control, and at last
to reunion with the divine. This is one way of interpreting The Eternal Feminine in
MadoMagi. The points presented above are not entirely waterproof, but they serve as
a good start to consider a Faustian reading of MadoMagi.