The Call of the Poet in Modern German Literature As Reflected in the Writings of Stefan George, Hugo Von Hofmannsthal, and Rainer Maria Rilke

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1964 The alC l of the Poet in Modern German Literature as Reflected in the Writings of Stefan George, Hugo Von Hofmannsthal, and Rainer Maria Rilke. Patricia Walker Wannamaker Louisiana State University and Agricultural & Mechanical College

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WANNAMAKER, Patricia Walker, 1929- THE CALL OF THE POET IN MODERN GERMAN LITERATURE AS REFLECTED IN THE WRITINGS OF STEFAN GEORGE, HUGO VON HOFMANNSTHAL, AND RAINER MARIA RILKE,

Louisiana State University, Ph.D., 1964 Language and Literature, modern University Microfilms, Inc., Ann Arbor, Michigan THE CALL OF THE POET IN MODERN GERMAN LITERATURE AS REFLECTED IN THE WRITINGS OF STEFAN GEORGE, HUGO VON HOFMANNSTHAL, AND RAINER MARIA RILKE

A Dissertation

Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of the Louisiana State University and Agricultural and Mechanical College in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

The Department of Foreign Languages

by Patricia Walker Wannamaker A .B., University of South Carolina, 1950 M .A ., University of South Carolina, 1958 M ay, 1964 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I gratefully acknowledge the inspiration and scholarly

guidance of Dr. Margaret Kober Merzbach, the director of my

dissertation. And I would like to express my heartfelt apprecia

tion to Dr. Carl Hammer, J r., the second reader, whose

capable assistance has been invaluable.

Also to the other members of my committee: Dr. Earl

N. Lewis, Jr. ; Dr. Claude L. Shaver; and Dr. Charles E.

Weber may I offer sincere thanks. TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS...... ii

INTRODUCTION...... 1

F o rew o rd P u rp o ses P ro c e d u re s

PART I. SURVEY OF SELECTED MODERN GERMAN POETS

I. ARNO HOLZ ...... 12

H. DETLEV VON LILIENCRON ...... 19

HI. GEORG TRAKL ...... 21

IV. FRANZ W ERFEL ...... 28

V. GOTTFRIED BEN N ...... 35

VI. GEORG KAISER ...... 42

VH. WILHELM LEHMANN ...... 53

VHI. HERMANN BROCH...... 58

IX. GERTRUD VON LEFORT ...... 67

PART H. STEFAN GEORGE

X. POET WITH A PURPOSE ...... 75

Consecration of the Muse Art for Art's Sake TABLE OF CONTENTS -- Continued

XI. POET WITH A MISSION...... 93

Communion with His Soul The Divine Imperative

XH. POET WITH A REVELATION ...... 105

Divine Incarnation The Eternal Bond Kingdom of the Spirit

PART HI. HUGO VON HOFMANNSTHAL

XHI. EARLY PERIOD ...... 118

Aesthetic Impressionism Lyrical Dramas

XIV. MIDDLE PERIOD ...... 132

Poetic Crisis "Wirklichkeit" "Das Soziale"

XV. LATE PERIOD ...... 147

From the Temple to the Street The Christian Poet The Man of the Spirit

PART IV. RAINER MARIA RILKE

XVI. BEAUTY, CREATIVITY, AND G OD ...... 159

Impressionism--Neo-Romanticism Jacobsen--Niels Lyhne Ru ssia--B e coming

iv TABLE OF CONTENTS -- Continued

XVII. NEW INSPIRATION AND CRISIS...... 173

Ro din- - 11 Dingg e di ch te11 Paris- - "Wendung"

XVIII. LAMENT AND PRAISE...... 179

"Duineser Elegien" "Die Sonette an Orpheus"

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS...... 189

SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 196

v From the days of his youth, George was aware of a high

calling. At first, beset by tortuous fears of his own inadequacy,

he soon gained firm footing in an exclusive cultivation of "das

schone leben. " Fleeing the foulness of the earth and gathering

about him a circle of initiates, this apostle of Beauty sought to

elevate the Word out of the effete realm of common usage, there by increasing its symbolic and evocative possibilities, the ulti mate development of which was the renewal of the Divine Image within his own soul.

George's poetry shows a gradual transformation from that which enunciates the role of the poet to that which by its perfect form fulfills the call of the poet--the call to evoke the Divine.

Hofmannsthal's early verse reveals undertones of an awaking awareness of that world which lies beyond the fleeting impressions of beauty, an awareness which developed into a mature appreciation and revelation of the complete life, taking into account both the reality of the moment and of eternity.

Denying his earlier role as a "Dichter der Schonheit, "

Hofmannsthal turned to the stage as the one great secular institu tion that had retained the universal validity of combining art and life. Thus he descended "from the temple to the street, " ABSTRACT

The foremost purpose of this study was to determine the thought of some modern (not contemporary) German writers, especially Stefan George, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, and Rainer

Maria Rilke, concerning the call of the poet. Accordingly, they are forthwith characterized: Arno Holz ushered in the period of modern German poetry with his new unrhymed and non-strophic lyric form; Detlev von Liliencron created superb snapshots of the life he saw racing by; Georg Trakl articulated his despair over a fragmented, decayed world in his poetry of lament; Franz

Werfel, the prophet-mediator, sought redemption through God and fellow-man and, in turn, redeemed God; Gottfried Benn created perfectly-formed lyrics to negate the nothingness of the nihilistic void; Georg Kaiser condemned evil humanity and pro claimed salvation for only the undefiled artists; Wilhelm Lehmann escaped the wickedness of men by embracing the great world of nature; Hermann Broch saw the salvation of poet and poetry in the very fact that both were imperfect representatives of humanity; and Gertrud von LeFort took her place under the divine fire- bolt to protect the guilty ones with her compassionate song. uniting the higher realm of the spirit with the everyday world of

"das Soziale. "

The young Rilke realized that there was more to the poetic call than singing sweet songs in glorification of one's own soul, and his creative powers developed and matured under the influence of: Jacobsen's Niels Lyhne; Russia's "God of Becoming" ; Rodin and "das Kunstding" ; Paris; and the turning from sight-work to heart-work.

To drink deeply of life was the ardent desire of Rilke, that the overflow might fill his vessel of poetry, that his lament might become praise; that life and death might blend into a Great Unity; that he might be able to transform the visible things of the world into the invisible things of eternity.

v iii INTRODUCTION

F o rew o rd

Zum Sehen geboren Zum Schauen bestellt Dem Turme geschworen Gefallt m ir die Welt. (256)

Lynceus, "der Turner, M in the dead of the night sings his song from atop the watchtower of the Palace ("Faust II, " Act V).

The world of nature is his delight. From far and near, images of beauty present themselves to his "fortunate eyes"

(Ibid. )--the moon and the stars, the forest and deer bring pleasure and contentment. The singer is in complete harmony with himself and with Nature--a harmony, the attainment of which was the lifelong goal of Goethe:

So seh' ich in alien Die ewige Zier, Und wie m ir's gefallen, Gefall1 ich auch m ir. (Ibid.)

The world upon which the warder's vision falls is not, however, exclusively a world of harmoniqus nature; this real world is also a world of men. He realizes that the fair world of delight, which first arrested his sight, can also become a dark some world of evil and suffering: Welch ein greuliches Entsetzen Droht mir aus der finstern Welt! (Ibid.)

Not only has he been stationed in the high tower in order that he may enjoy the lovely world, but also that from his vantage point

he may condemn those, who, contemptuous of human life, doom

the "good old father and mother" (Ibid.) to a "burning hell" of

death. What had erstwhile enchanted the warder's eye has dis

appeared (257); but his lamentation has awakened Faust to curse

the means by which Mephistopheles has accomplished his ends

(Ibid.).

Faust, however, believing as Goethe did, that freedom and

genuine existence are only won by those who aspire unweariedly

to conquer them anew ("immer strebend"), is able to rise above

life's contradictions--"Polaritat und Steigerung. " It is in this

continual striving and attaining of new heights that the call of the poet and the nobility of man is revealed: "Noble let man be,

helpful and good. " Tirelessly may he do the Useful and Righteous-

Edel sei der Mensch, Hilfreich und gut!

• «•••••••••• Unermudet schaff' er Das Nutzliche, Rechte . (Goethe, the Lyrist, 66, 68)

Faust has tirelessly sought to do the Useful and Righteous; he is not beyond redeeming, and if he feel the grace of Divine love he shall win the final victory. 3

Goethe's Christian symbolism in "Faust" becomes

Christian reality with Eichendorff, who, like Goethe, is aware of, but not obsessed by the disharmony that sometimes pervades the world and the human heart. Cognizance of this very fact causes Eichendorff to turn to poetry, which he sees in all of

Creation. He knows that in so doing he is trusting God to grant to him security in "dieser gnadenlosen Zeit" (132):

Der Dichter kann nicht mit verarmen; Wenn alles um ihn her zerfallt, Hebt ihn ein gottliches Erbarmen-- Der Dichter ist das Herz der Welt. (Ibid.)

The poet's love must be strong enough to overcome the destroying forces of evil. He must concern himself with re deeming the lovely world of nature (133):

Soil er durch Liebeskraft erlosen, Der schone Liebling der Natur. (Ibid.)

The poet's mission, says Eichendorff, is to sing freely of the wonders of the Earth that other hearts may be liberated:

Da soil er singen frei auf Erden,

Dass aller Herzen freier werden . (Ibid.)

Having experienced light and grace, the poet must feel a deep responsibility ("spielet nicht mit Licht und Gnad', " Ibid. ) to reveal this joy to others. Create, says Eichendorff, out of 4 the love and joy in Nature that is reality within your own soul

("Wahr, in dir, " Ibid.). Only pity "the other" side of life.

It is for this divine purpose that the Word has been delivered into the hands of the poet:

Drum hat ihm Gott das Wort gegeben. (Ibid.)

This magic Word awakens the song of Nature that it may ever resound:

Schlaft ein Lied in alien Dingen, Die da traumen fort und fort, Und die Welt hebt an zu singen, . Triffst du nur das Zauberwort. (134)

Like Eichendorff, Holderlin asked the question: "Wozu

Dichter in diirftiger Zeit?" (Heath, 283); but quite differently from Eichendorff, Holderlin1 s answer reveals not a poet who turns from the needy times to a loving God, but rather one who stands with bared head under the fire-bolt of the angered gods, in order that mankind may not perish. This is Holderlin's call: to drink the heavenly fire without fear, to catch the fire-bolt of the gods in his own guiltless hand, to make it possible for a presumptuous people to receive a heavenly gift, not a curse.

Thus standing between the gods and the people, the poet creates, and his art, in turn, mediates between Divinity and Humanity: 5

Und daher trinken himmlisches Feuer jezt Die Erdensohne ohne Gefahr. Doch uns gebiihrt es, unter Gottes Gewittern Ihr Dichter! mit entblosstem Haupte zu stehen, Des Vaters Stral, ihn selbst, mit eigner Hand Zu fas sen und dem Volk ins Lied Gehiillt die himmlische Gaabe zu reichen Denn sind nur reinen Herzens Wie Kinder, wir, sind schuldlos unsere Hande. (119-120)

Antithetically, Grillparzer's Sappho demonstrates that the poet has no call to mediate, no call to bring the joy of God's

grace to human hearts, no call to delight creatively in Nature.

This child of the gods is allowed only a taste of reality, only a

sip from the sweetly-garlanded chalice of life:

An dieses Lebens suss umkranzten Kelch, Zu nippen nur, zu trinken nicht. (370-71)

Then, obedient to divine will, the poetess sets down the brim ming cup and is received back into the realm of the gods-- into the realm of pure poetry:

Es war auf Erden ihre Heimat nicht-- Sie ist zuruck zu den Ihren! (373)

Thus one may see that Goethe, Eichendorff, Holderlin, and

Grillparzer all viewed the ramifications of their poetic call in quite different ways. Surely all felt called to create, but their motivations were not the same, nor was the degree of their influence upon those who followed. 6

P u rp o se s

The foremost purpose of this study is to determine the thought of some of the modern (not contemporary) poets concern ing the call of the poet. Consideration of each writer is restricted to his outstanding pronouncements concerning the poetic call; no attempt is made to deal with the w riter's total impact upon litera tu re.

The initial approach will be through a more or less chrono logical survey of representative writers, not necessarily the most outstanding ones,and sometimes they are chosen simply because they have more to say about the call of the poet than do some of the others. These writers are forthwith characterized in accordance with their treatment in this paper: Arno Holz, whose influence was greatest upon Naturalism, but who, in fact, introduced the period of the modern lyric; Detlev von Liiliencron, a poet whose verse is clearly impressionistic; Georg Trakl,

typically a poet of early Expressionism; Franz Werfel, the fore most lyrist of high Expressionism; Gottfried Benn, a "reawakened”

Expressionist; Georg Kaiser, the poet of the "Griechische

Dramen" ; Wilhelm Lehmann, whose new type of nature poetry has attracted many followers; Hermann Broch, whose lyrical novel, "Der Tod des Vergil, " gives expression to the post-World War

II period; and Gertrud von LeFort, the modern Christian poet.

Then, against this general background of thought, an inten sive examination will be made of all of the writings of Stefan

George, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, and Rainer Maria Rilke which seem to contribute significantly to an understanding of what they believe the poet's task to be.

Finally, by comparisons and contrasts, conclusions will be drawn as to how all of these writers stand in relation one to the other, and in which respects they show the influence, if any, of

Goethe, Eichendorff, Holderlin, and Grillparzer.

P ro c e d u re s

C itations

(1) Parenthesis-notes are used when citing direct or indirect quotations taken either from the poet's works (a collected edition or a single volume when there is only one such volume referred to in the confines of this paper), or from anthology-type secondary sources, or to elaborate text material. When referring to the works of the poet, these citations are given in terms of volume, part, and page numbers, whichever are called for. When refer ring to anthology-type secondary sources or to several volumes of the works which are not a part of a collected edition, or in the 8 event that more than one collected edition is used, the citations have the addition of a short-title. (2) Footnote references are restricted to direct and indirect quotations from secondary works of a critical nature, or they are used for content notes.

Abbreviated Titles

The following works, cited forthwith in full, are referred to in the parenthesis-notes by the accompanying short-titles:

(1) E. B. Ashton (ed.), Primal Vision: Selected Writings of Gottfried Benn ("New Directions Book" ; Norfolk, Conn.: James Laughlin, n. d.). - -Prim al Vision.

(2) August Closs (ed.), The Heath Anthology of German Poetry (Boston: D. C. Heath and Company, 1957). --Heath

(3) Ernst Feise and Harry Steinhauer (eds.), German Literature since Goethe (2 vols. ; Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1958-59). --Feise and Steinhauer.

(4) Angel Flores (ed.), An Anthology of German Poetry from Holderlin to Rilke (New York: Doubleday and Company, Inc., I960).--Holderlin to Rilke.

(5) Gertrud von LeFort, Aufzeichnungen und Erinnerungen (Einsiedeln: Benzinger Verlag, 1951). --Aufzeichnungen.

(6) Gertrud von LeFort, Gedichte ("Insel-Bucherei, " No. 580; Wiesbaden: Insel Verlag, 1954).--Gedichte.

(7) Harry T. Moore (trans.), Selected Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke (Garden City, New York: Doubleday and Company, I960). --Letters.

(8) Rainer Maria Rilke, Briefe (2 vols.; Leipzig: Insel Verlag, 1950). --Briefe. 9

(9) Rainer Maria Rilke, Gesammelte Werke (6 vols.; Leipzig: Insel Verlag, 1930). - - G. W.

(10) Rainer Maria Rilke, Samtliche Werke (4 vols. ; Leipzig: Insel V erlag, 1955). - - S. W .

(11) Georg Trakl, Decline ("Crescendo Poetry Series, " Nos. 1-8; St. Ives: Latin Press, 1951-52). --Decline.

(12) Georg Trakl, Gedichte (Munchen: Kosel Verlag, 1957).-- G edichte.

(13) Edwin H. Zeydel (trans.), Goethe, the Lyrist ("University of North Carolina Studies in Germanic Languages and Literatures, " No. 16; Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1955). --Goethe, the Lyrist.

Single Collected Editions or Single Volumes

The following editions of the works of the various writers are the ones which are cited in the parenthesis-notes by volume, part, and page numbers, whichever are called for:

(1) Gottfried Benn, Gesammelte Werke (4 vols.; Wiesbaden: L im es V erlag, 1959-62), I, HI.

(2) Hermann Broch, Gesammelte Werke (10 vols. ; Zurich: Rhein Verlag, 1931-61), HI.

(3) Joseph von Eichendorff, Samtliche Werke (12 vols. ; Regensburg: Josef Habbel Verlag, 1908- ), I, Pt. I.

(4) Stefan George, Werke: Ausgabe in zwei Banden (2 vols.; Munchen: Helmut Kupper Verlag, 1958).

(5) Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Samtliche Werke (40 vols.; "Jubilaumsausgabe" ; Stuttgart: Cotta Verlag, 1902-07), XIV. 10

(6) Franz Grillparzer, Samtliche Werke (40 vols. ; Vienna: Anton Schroll and Company [sicj, 1909-39)> I, Pt. I.

(7) Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Gesammelte Werke in Einselausgaben (6 vols. ; Frankfurt: S. Fischer Verlag, 1946-59).

(8) Friedrich H*olderlin, Samtliche Werke (6 vols. ; "Grosse Stuttgarter Ausgabe" ; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer Verlag, 1946-61), H, P t. I.

(9) Arno Holz, Das Werk von Arno Holz (10 vols. ; Berlin: Dietz Verlag, 1924-25), I, IE, IV, VE - X.

(10) Georg Kaiser, Griechische Dramen (Zurich: Artemis Verlag, 1948).

(11) Wilhelm Lehmann, Meine Gedichtbucher (Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1957).

(12) Franz Werfel, Gedichte aus den Jahren 1908-1945 (Los Angeles: Privatdruck der Pazifischen Presse, 1946). PART I. SURVEY OF SELECTED

MODERN GERMAN POETS I. ARNO HOLZ

Even before his well-known collaboration with Johannes

Schlaf in the writing of their famous Naturalistic short stories

("Papa Hamlet, " 1889), Arno Holz had already ushered in the period of modern German poetry as he assumed the role of

"Dichter der Groszstadt" in 1885 with the publication of "Buch

der Zeit. Lieder eines Modernen. "

The "Armeleutepoesie" of this volume deals with themes which were to become characteristic of the writers of Naturalism:

the misery of the factories, the poverty of the workers, the

teeming city streets. One typical portrait is that of a mother

whose three small children gather around her deathbed in a

desolate attic room. The compassion of the poet reaches out to

those in need, and he solemnly vows to comfort the poor, to

strengthen the weak, to free the captive, to avenge the down

trodden, to love truth, to hate deception, "und meiner Kunst ein

Priester zu sein mein Leben lang.

* Citing Wilhelm Duwe, Deutsche Dichtung des 20. Jahrhunderts (Zurich: Orell Fussli Verlag, 1962), I, 45.

12 13

At the very end of the first edition of "Buch der Zeit"

stand the first thirteen poems of the later "Phantasus" (1898-

1916); these poems are still written in the traditional verse form, as are all of the poems in this earlier volume. *

Liliencron's reaction to these thirteen poems is typical of the

enthusiasm with which "Buch der Zeit" was received: "Wenn wir, mein Gott, wie oft!, das ewige Geseire eines im vierten

Stock vor Hunger sterbenden Dichters h'oren oder lesen, so lasst uns das nachgerade gleichgultig. Aber wo es gottlich

gedichtet ist, mit so tiefen dunkelroten Herzblutfarben, 2 erschuttert es uns, dass uns die Haarwurzeln schmerzen. "

Holz rejects the celebrated poet extolled by such writers as

Paul Heyse and portrays the poet who "fieberte und schrieb 3 Gedichte, " yet holding fast to his vision of the M use--a vision which he continues to pursue through the long nights of sickness

and hunger. Even in the midst of a life of abject reality, this

poet lives on in his world of dreams:

^In the second edition of "Buch der Zeit" (1892) there appeared a single poem written in 1886 which is neither rhymed nor strophed. 2 Citing Duwe, op. cit. , p. 46.

3Ibid. 14

Und wenn vom holden Wahnsinn trunken er zitternd Vers an Vers gereiht, dann schien auf ewig ihm versunken die Welt und ihre Nuchternheit. *

Although Holz probably is best known for his widely- influential theory that art has the tendency to reproduce nature

("die Kunst hat die Tendenz, wieder die Natur zu sein, " X, iv), his poetry, beginning with the -"Phantasus, " shows no evidence of the photographic characteristics of Naturalistic writing. The poet's concern from this point on is that all art is poetry and all poetry lyric. ^

"Phantasus" was destined to launch a new form of the lyric, a form which discarded the traditional metrical foot and rhymed stanza and replaced them with a "natural and necessary

rhythm" which turns on an invisible central point ("Mittelachse").

However, after Holz had thrown off the shackles of strict adher ence to rules of creative composition, for the avowed purpose of writing more realistically, his verse then tended to fall back into poetically-lilting patterns that did not in any way reproduce nature. It should also be noted that, contrary to his theory,

Holz later returned to rhymed strophes ("Die Blechschmiede, "

1901).

*Ibid. 2Ibid., p. 48. 15

The sheer musical quality of the unrhymed verse of the poet is apparent in the following invariably-quoted lines:

Hinter bluhenden Apfelbaumzweigen steig t der Mond auf. (X, 539)

The rhythm of such lines grows out of the "Inhalt, " says Holz, and the whole effect of the poem is one of a unity in which "der

Klang [ist] eins mit dem Inhalt" (Ibid.). This unity is further enhanced by the graphic arrangement of the words and lines on the page. Holz declares that such "Einheit" sums up his whole

"Revolution der Lyrik" (1899).

"Phantasus" is an attempt to shape, for the first time by means of the lyric, a new world-image ("Weltbild, " X, 544), the poet contends; and he later proclaims:

Langst hinter m ir verhalite das vieljahrtausend Alte! Da! Friss es! Wurg es! Kau es! Mit mir beginnt ein Neues! (X, v)

With his characteristic enthusiasm and self-confidence,

Holz envisioned an artistic creation which would portray with kaleidoscopic vision the scientific century of which he was a part, just as the Homeric epics and Dante's Divina Commedia personified the spirit of their respective ages. Holz explains it thus: "Fur unser neues, sogenannt naturwi'ssenschaftlich.es

Zeitalter hat sich ein solches Weltgedicht noch nicht bilden 16 konnen. Quite significantly, this "world" of Holz1 image is one of his own making: "Ich gestalte und forme die Welt, sagte ich mir, wenn es m ir gelingt, den Abglanz zu spiegeln, den sie m ir in die Seele geworfen! Und je reicher, je mannigfaltiger, je vielfarbiger ich das tue, um so treuer, um so tiefer, um so 2 machtvoller wird mein Werk ..."

Some of Holz1 contemporaries called his poetry Impres sionistic, but the poet's own remarks and the "Phantasus" poems themselves probably have more in common with the some what later Expressionistic verse. His reality is the reality of his soul, the experiencing and expressing of all of the manifold conditions of mankind--from the deepest anguish.and need, to the heights of jubilation and blessedness; for his "Phantasus" is but an

Autobiographic einer Seele! des Schaffenden, des Dichtenden, des Kunstlers, der als der letzte, gesteigerte Menschheitstyp hingestellt wird, durch den, in irgendeiner Beziehung, in irgendeinem Betracht, mit gleicher Intensitat, alles geht: alle Qual, alle Angst, alle Not, alle Klage, alle Plage, alle Wonnen, alle Verzucktheiten alle Jubel, alle Beglucktheiten, alle Seligkeiten, alle Ekstasen, alle Entriicktheiten! Nicht nur seine eigenen, sondern die der ganzen Menschheit! In alien Formen, unter alien Verkleidungen, durch alle Zonen, aus alien Zeiten! ^

*Ibid. , p. 52. 2Ibid. 3Ibid. , pp. 52-53. 17

Pursuing a similar line of thought, Holz sums up his theory of "Die neue Wortkunst" with the following lines:

"Summa summarum: Erst nachdem Sie in Ihrer kunstierischen

Widerspiegelung der Welt instinktiv deren Zahlengesetz- massigkeit erspilrt hatten, konnte mir die Zahlengesetz- massiglceit der Welt selbst, die sich mit der Ihrer Spiegelung deckt, aufgehn! " [italics mine] (X, 731)

From the first to the last poem of "Phantasus, " one can easily discern that the only law which binds the poet is the law of his own soul-experiencing of the world. This is very much in evidence in the opening lines:

In tiefem , bannendem, webendem Nachtschlaf durch purpurn . . . balliges Gedicht, aus uberweltlichemSpharenlicht einerdleiblosgelostes Glanzgesicht, kundete sich mir, raunte sich mir, gestaltete sich mir die Gewissheit. (VII, 3)

Then, at the close of the 1343 pages, Holz* final poem still attests to the lofty flights of the poet's soul in his experiencing of the real world: 18

Hoher und hbher stre b t mein Geist, lautert sich, erlost sich, hebt sich, verschwebt sich, verwebt sich ins All!

Mein Staub verstob; wie ein Stern strahlt mein Gedachtnis! (IX, 1344-45) . .>

II. DETLEV VON LILIENCRON

This outstanding poet of Impressionism unceremoniously- fulfilled his poetic call by creating superb snap-shots of the life he saw racing by.

Liliencron needs no finite verbs in "Viererzug" as he pictures four bobbing horses galloping along on a bright sunny day:

Vorne vier nickende Pferdekopfe, Neben m ir zwei blonde Madchenzopfe Hinten der Groom mit wichtigen Mienen, An den Radern Gebell. (Feise and Steinhauer, Pt. II, p. 35)

A second poem, "Die Musik kommt, " is an example of onomatopoeia par excellence. The increasingly louder

"klingkling, bumbum und tschingdada" (Ibid. , 34) of the approach ing military band accompanies the precision marching of the passing "Hauptmann," "Leutnants, " and "Grenadiere"--"in

Schritt und Tritt und Tritt und Schritt" (Ibid.). Then gradually fading away:

Klingling, tschingtsching und Paukenkrach, Noch aus der Ferne tont es schwach, Ganz leise bumbumbumbum tsching; Zog da ein bunter Schmetterling, Tschintsching, bum, um die Ecke? (Ibid.)

19 20

In a third poem, war is unforgettably impressed upon the mind as one reads the poet's account of the Battle of Kolin (June

18, 1757) which ended in defeat for Frederick the Great's forces.

No sooner has the sun risen than the night falls. The battle is over and many do not return home. One of these is an ensign who, though still a boy, lies buried in the sand of the battle field--"wer weiss wo" :

Und der gesungen dieses Lied, Und der es liest, im Leben zieht Noch frisch und froh. Doch einst bin ich, und bist auch du, Verscharrt im Sand, zur ewigen Ruh, Wer weiss wo. (Ibid. , 34)

Thus one can see that in Liliencron's verse, as is the case with most Impressionists, there is no priesthood of poets, no message of impending doom, no condemnation of contemporary society, but only fleeting impressions of beauty--a beauty that may be seen through the eyes of the poet. There is only a price less sense of the joy of life--a life filled with dancing sounds and with vivid colors; only a lingering melancholy of death--a death that seems strangely in contrast to the poet's vibrant visions of life; only a magical bringing-to-consciousness of that which one often mentally relegates to the back-recesses of a hum-drum existence. in. GEORG TRAKL

« "Es ist ein so namenloses Ungliick, " wrote Georg Trakl in

November 1913, "wenn einem die Welt entzweibricht. O mein

Gott, welch ein Gericht ist uber mich hineingebrochen. Sagen

Sie mir, dass ich die Kraft haben muss, noch zu leben und das

Wahre^ zu tun. Sagen Sie mir, dass ich nicht irre bin. Es ist 2 steinernes Dunkel hereingebrochen. "

To live and to perform the truth was Trakl's ardent desire.

The poet must not despair but must be able to fight out the bitter battle, as the prayer of Sappho to Aphrodite in one of the poet's odes expresses it (Decline, 19). But Trakl does not seem at all certain of the outcome, for he asks himself what harbor he will find or what lonely shipwreck (Ibid. ,9).

The stony darkness of this fragmented world was to con tinue to hang heavy over the poet's head, until finally, in

^Citing Klaus Simon, Traum und Orpheus, Eine Studie zu Georg Trakls Dichtungen (Salzburg: Otto Muller Verlag, 1955), p. 113.

^Ibid., p. 154.

21 22

November 1914, while serving as a chemist in the Austrian army,

Trakl died of a self-administered overdose of narcotics.

"Grodek, " the last poem written by Trakl, is a poignant witness to the great tragedy of war, as its effect reaches even to unborn generations. This poem also bears testimony to the mounting hopelessness within the soul of the poet:

Am Abend tonen die herbstlichen Walder Von todlichen Waffen, die goldnen Ebenen Und blauen Seen, daruber die Sonne Dustrer hinrollt; umfangt die Nacht Sterbende Krieger, die wilde Klage Ihrer zerbrochenen Munder. Doch stille sammelt im Weidengrund Rotes Gewolk, darin ein ziirnender Gott wohnt, Das vergossene Blut sich, mondne Kuhle; Alle Strassen munden in schwarze Verwesung. Unter goldnem Gezweig der Nacht und Sternen Es schwankt der Schwester Schatten durch den schweigenden Hain, Zu grussen die Geister der Helden, die blutenden Haupter; Und leise tonen im Rohr die dunkeln Floten des Herbstes. O stolzere Trauer! ihr ehernen Altare, Die heisse Flamme des Geistes nahrt heute ein gewaltiger S chm erz, Die ungebornen Enkel. (Heath, 524-25)

This tone of lament; the awesome stillness of the night--broken only by the sounds of the battle; the golden fields and quiet glades; death and decay; a mighty sorrow--all of these images are typical of this poet of early Expressionism; however, the most striking and persistent is that of decay. 23

The sweet lust for decay pervades virtually every one of

Trakl's lyrics: decay permeates the rotting room (342); a smile sinks into the decayed fountain (348); the stillness of the mouth is overshadowed by the dark gold of decayed sunflowers (Ibid.); tears come at the sight of the decayed graveyard on the hill (350); the soul sings of death--that green decay of the flesh (356); the cold moon appears in its decay (357); decaying men rise and fall in the darkness (364); echoes resound in decaying darkness (Ibid.); a decaying race lives coldly and evilly (365).

The poet articulates his soul-sadness in lament, an equally strong but not quite so persistent image as that of decay: the lament of the thrush (352); the brother's wild lament (353); the women's lamentation (Ibid.); the dark lament of a mouth (355); the fervid lament of the animals (356); the m other--a figure of lamentation (359); the voice of the sea as it joins in the lamenting

(367).

Decay--lament--and a deep silence with its host of sup porting images: the cricket's song dies in the field (Decline,

12); the leaves of the chestnut stir no more(Ibid.); the candles quietly glow (Ibid.); the day bows in stillness (Ibid. , 16); still ness dwells in empty windows (Ibid. , 24); over the green still ness of the pond (Ibid. , 18); noiseless prayer (Ibid., 20); the 24

silence of God (Ibid. , 34); speechless blood (Ibid. , 44); the

silent forests (Ibid. , 46); the brown stillness of autumn

(Holderlin to Rilke, 352); a silent footstep (Ibid. , 355); speech less grief (Ibid.-, - 359); the speechless gaze of the sun (Ibid. ,

361); snowy silence (Ibid. , 364).

The poet in loneliness must enter into this silence of the world of things if he is to discover the cupbearer who tarries patiently under dark arches enveloped by golden tobacco-clouds. *

Klaus Simon in his study of Trakl's poetry, Traum und 2 Orpheus, comments that in the person of Trakl, Orpheus has 3 become a "leidender Mensch. " Simon then proceeds to trace the Orpheus legend from the old Christian painting in which

Orpheus was an antique prefiguration of Christ through the

Renaissance in which Orpheus became associated with the revival of art; the "Sturm und Drang" in which the daemonic in nature was linked to this mythical singer, and the "Magie des Wortes" became the instrument whereby the "Magie der Welt" was apprehended; the mediator-Orpheus as reflected in the works of

*Ibid. , p. 137.

^Simon, Traum und Orpheus (Salzburg: Otto Muller Verlag, 1955).

^Ibid. , p. 123. 25

Rilke, who also viewed this symbol as a personification of his own calling and mission; and finally Trakl, to whom Orpheus offers what Simon terms "Losung der Widerspruche. The many contradictions in life are resolved when the poet stands in 2 the midst of his visionary "Welt der singenden Dinge. "

Simon concludes that Trakl's "Leid wird Blume" in the later poetry: "Die Metamorphose der chaotischen Bilder zum

Lied im Lauterungsbad des duldenden Herzens, die Verwandlung

des Leids in den orphischen, weltalten Gesang--das ist die grosse Aufgabe, die in Trakl heranreift und in den erschutternden

Gedichten vor seinem Tode ihre vollendete Losung findet. "

In this respect one can certainly recognize the affinity between Trakl and Rilke, an affinity which is also evident in a line from one of Trakl's latest hymns: "die W elt--[und die] uberwindende Giiltigkeit seiner Aussagen.

Further pursuing his theory that Trakl criticism should not

revolve completely around a discussion of "decay, " Simon calls

attention to the poet's idyllic verse: "Dem abgrundigsten Verfall

stehen Idyllen gegenuber, deren heiles Sein nicht allein aus der

Magie des Wortes, sondern aus einer perspektivierten, aber

Îbid., p. 128. Îbid., p. 135. Îbid. , p. 54.

^Citing Simon, ibid. 26

massgerechten Schau der Wirklichkeit abzuleiten sind. ■»* Then

Simon cites the "Elis" poem as a prime example:

Am Abend zog der Fischer die schweren Netze ein. Ein guter Hirt Fuhrt seine Herde am Waldsaum hin. 2 O! wie gerecht sind, Elis, alle deine Tage!

As a second example, "Verklarter Herbst" is cited:

Gewaltig endet so das Jahr Mit goldnem Wein und Frucht der Garten. Rund schweigen Walder wunderbar Und sind des Einsamen Gefahrten.

Da sagt der Landmann: Es ist gut . . .

Soergel-Hohoff labels Trakl "ein Dichter aus Holderlin's 4 Geschlecht, " and a facet of this kinship is apparent when one

compares the following lines from Holderlin:

Die Mauern stehn Sprachlos und kalt, im Winde Klirren die Fahnen. ®

with Trakl's:

Im m e r tont An schwarzen Mauern Gottes einsamer Wind.(Holderlin to Rilke,346)

*Simon, ibid., p. 110. ^Ibid. ^Ibid. , pp. 110-11.

^Albert Soergel and Kurt Hohoff, Dichtung und Dichter der Zeit: Vom Naturalismus bis zur Gegenwart (Dusseldorf: August Bagel Verlag, 1961), I, 91.

^Friedrich Holderlin, Samtliche Werke, Vol. H: Gedichte nach 1800 ("Grosse Stuttgarter Ausgabe" ; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer Verlag, 1951), Pt. I, p. 117. 27

Although Trakl did not consider himself a proclaimer of any new religion as did so many of the later Expressionists, one must still give attention to Trakl's own testimony, from which it is quite evident that when he raised his Orphic voice, he hoped that his poetry might assume a measure of universal validity.

Writing about his revision of the "Klagelied, " the poet remarked significantly: "Es ist um so vieles besser, als das urspriingliche, als es nun unpersonlich ist, und zum Bersten voll von Bewegung und Gesichten. Ich bin uberzeugt, dass es dir in dieser universellen Form und Art mehr sagen und bedeuten wird, denn in der begrenzt personlichen des ersten Entwurfes.

^Citing Simon, op. cit. , p. 129. IV. FRANZ WERFEL

Franz Werfel's early verse reveals a poet who feels him self drawn by the power of love and compassion to his "B ruder - mens ch. " He recognizes that there is more than a community of words and work, that the deeper bond is the call of the dis tressed human heart:

Mehr als Gemeinschaft von Worten und Werk Bindet uns alle der brechende Blick, Bindet uns alle das letzte Bett, Und die Not und die Not, wenn das Herz ausgeht . . .

Werfel greatly desires to be a metamorphosed part of all humanity: "Mein einziger Wunsch ist, Dir, O Mensch verwandt zu sein! " (Gedichte, 2)

"Der Weltfreund" (1908-10) reveals not only the poet reaching toward his fellow man, but God himself longing for the warmth of human contact. The Lord God laments that as the

Creator of all, he has no one to pray to, no one from whom to

seek counsel:

Citing Albert Soergel, Dichtung und Dichter der Zeit: Im Banne des Expressionismus (Leipzig: R. Voigtlander Verlag, 1925), p. 481.

28 29 i Zu wem soli ich einziger beten? Umringt von tausend Plane ten Weiss ich m ir keinen Rat.

Nun wein ich in meinen langen, jLangen weissen Bart. ^

Though surrounded by a thousand stars, this humanized

"Gottvater am Abend" cried into his long, long white beard.

The loneliness of the poet is assuaged by his assurance

of a vital and meaningful relationship between him and his

fellow-man:

Ein Mensch lebt Es lebt ein Mensch, Dem die Augen sich feuchten, Denkt er an mich. (Ibid. , 11)

Werfel is aware, however, of a difference between him

self and other men:

Ich, nur ich bin wie Glas. • • Durch mich schleudert die Welt ihr schaumendes Ubermass. Die Anderen sind wie Eisen und Holz. (Ibid. , 1)

This same sense of having been set apart for a high poetic

mission is voiced by the "Erzengel" who speaks to the poet in

"Die Versuchung" :

Nun weisst du ganz, dass dein Reich von dieser Welt nicht von dieser Welt ist. Das ist, o Dichter, dein Geburts-tag. Und in dieser Welt der Gesandte, der

* Citing Lore B. Folten (ed.), Franz Werfel (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1961), p. 28. 30

Mittler, der Verschmahte zu sein, ist dein Schicksal. Kein Gesetz, keine Moral gilt fur dich, denn du bist der unsrigen, der unendlichen Geister einer. 1

Commenting on his next volume of verse, "Wir sind"

(1913), Werfel stresses that these poems speak "in mancherlei

Gestalten" only of one thing--"von dem permanenten

• • 2 Existenzbewusstsein, das ist Frommigkeit. " He believes that all human goodness, joy, sorrow, and loneliness will be able to lift itself out of such a powerful consciousness of existence--if only the poet is able to awaken this consciousness within the hearts of his "Bruder-menschen" :

Wir, die wir in den W irrwarr dieser Erdenteleologie, in den Betrieb und die mindere durchsichtige Kausalitat gestossen sind, vergessen nur allzu rasch das unausdenkliche ungeheure Wort: Wir sind. Ich glaube, dass alles menschlich Hohe, die Gute, die Freude, der Jubel, der Schmerz, die Einsamkeit, das Ideal, bloss aus diesem ewigen undurchdringlichen gewaltigen Existenzbewusstsein sich erheben k*onnen. 3

The immediate attainment of his earlier idealistic pursuit of "Bruderliebe" is now recognized as unrealistic. The poet searchingly asks himself how he can tear down the wall that separates him from his brother--a wall which he had never before been willing to see. He has come to realize that some

* Citing Soergel, op. cit. , p. 490. 2Ibid. , p. 486.

3Ibid. 31 basic questions concerning the poet's relationship to existence must be answered before he can approach his "Bruder-Mensch. "

Therefore, the jubilation and "Lebensgefuhl" of "Wir sind" is

followed in "Einander" (1915) by a recognition of the validity of

lament: "Ich klag' und klage: harte Welt!"^ The war has cast a

long shadow, but Werfel finally emerges with a greater maturity

and an even deeper conviction that what is important is the world

which finds birth within the hearts of those who through Divine 2 Love are drawn "zum Du, zum Einander. " The poet, thus

redeemed through God and fellow-man, is, in turn, able to 3 redeem God, who waits weeping:

Kind, wie ich dich mit meinem Blut erloste, A So wart ich weinend, dass du mich erlost.

Werfel has come to see the world of nature in terms of a

God-humanity relationship, as is evident in a poem from

"Gesange aus den drei Reichen" (1917), which proclaims that

light first found its birth not in the sun but in a human smile;

that breath comes not from the wind, but that the very breath of

•^Ibid. ^Ibid., p. 487.

^This idea of a God dependent on the poet is in evidence throughout Werfel's works. Cf. "Und wenn ich denke, Yater, denkeDu!" (Gedichte, 110).

^Citing Folten, op. cit. , p. 38. 32

God is born of the breath of man; that the seemingly unlimited

procession of the stars dims in comparison with the path of

freedom born in mankind:

Lacheln, Atem und Schritt Sind mehr als des Lichtes, des Windes, der Sterne Bahn, Die Welt fangt im Menschen an. Im Lacheln, im Atem, im Schritt der Geliebten ertrinke! Weine hin, kniee hin, sinke! 1

MDer Gerichtstag" (1916-17), written in the trenches, is

the poet's proclamation of the impending judgment upon the evil

powers of sin and darkness, which have cursed the earth; but,

this volume of verse also reveals the hope that lies in the power

of beauty and truth. These powers of goodness are released by

those who, in the surrender ("Hingabe") of their own wills for

the benefit of their fellow-man, find grace ("Gnade") to receive

sight in a world blinded by evil. Idle words have added to this

blindness, and the poet laments:

Ach, es ist nicht gut, zu sagen. Denn, wer sagt, versagt. (Ibid. , 51)

Only through holy deeds can man create the Godhead and heal

the fragmented world:

* Citing Soergel, op. cit. , p. 488. 2 Cf. the earlier "Ihr armen Worte, abgeschabt und glatt, " Folten, op. cit., p. 46. 33

Komrn, komm, Mensch! Nur du wirst durch heilige Taten Die werdende Gottheit lassen geraten. Aus dieser W irrsal, dem Wahn und dem Scheinen W irst du die Vielfalt zur Einfalt vereinen. *

Since the poet-priest Werfel had been only a "Bildner am Worte, " he is filled with doubts about the efficacy of his lyric outpourings.

He realizes full well that "das Wort, " originally the pure

"Logos, " must have a rebirth in the hands of the poet. In the

"Legende von der Sprache, " he relates how in ancient times the elders of the peoples mutely assembled before their highest Lord, who was hidden behind a wall of hymnic flame. At his command three archangels emerge from the fire and with uplifted swords hew from the lava of song, from the Sanctus, piece by piece, the original Word in all of its primal purity.

The bright glow of the "Sanktus-Stucke" has long since been extinguished,

Und des Wortes Haut liegt nackt, Ton und Reim sind abgedroschen, Und die Lava ist verschlackt. (Ibid. , 118)

Yet the poet in the depth of night in the quietness of his room is challenged and humbled by a vision of the unprofaned Word which comes to him with the power of angels:

^Citing Folten, ibid., p. 35. 34

Dennoch schwebt in spaten Nachten, Wenn nichts schnattert mehr und schreit, Wort an Wort m it Engelm’achten Durch mein Zimmer, unentweiht. (Ibid,)

Werfel, who had sought his life long to draw nigh to God, in reaching out to redeem the Word, has been renewed and reassured at the Source of all Creation. V. GOTTFRIED BENN

In a review of a recently-published edition of Gottfried

Benn's works, the statement is made that "Benn ist der einzige

Deutsche gewesen (und geblieben), in dem das Bewusstsein der

Zeit sichtbar wurde. However, Benn himself would not have

considered this a compliment, for he questions the validity of the popular axiom "the poet and his times" in his essay "Zur

Problematik des Dichterischen" (I, 66-83): "Der Dichter und

seine Zeit, die beliebte Formulierung--welche Harmlosigkeit, welche glatte Sicherheit in Bereichen, in denen alles fragwiirdig

is t! " (Ibid. , 72)

However, this poet, who remained both a practicing

physician and an Expressionist throughout his life, does help

one better to understand the chaotic twentieth century and its

effect on the call of the poet. 2 Benn's earlier "Gehirnlyrik, " with such suggestive

titles as "Morgue" (1912), "Fleisch" (1917), and "Spaltung"

^L. Li. Matthias, Review of Gesammelte Werke, Gottfried Benn, Bucher unserer Zeit (Wiesbaden: Limes Verlag, 1963), p. 9. o ‘'Franz Lennartz, Deutsche Dichter und Schriftsteller unserer Zeit (Stuttgart: Alfred Kroner Verlag, 1959), p. 49.

35 36

(1925) were written during the poet's period of "High Expres sionism, " when he desponded because he felt so keenly the abyss between the "flesh" which occupied him daily and the

"spirit" which seemed to elude him.

The abyss was ever before him, but the poet did not fall victim to the Nihilistic void that lay open before his path. In his essay "Nihilistisch oder positiv? " (Ibid. , 399-401) Benn de scribes his position as one of resignation, which he says is not nihilistic, but "fiihrt ihre Perspektiven bis an den Rand des

Dunkels, aber sie bewahrt Haltung auch vor diesem Dunkel. "

(Ibid. , 399) A t the edge of the d ark n ess Benn co n stru cts a positive work of art which negates the nothingness: "Das angefertigte Werk ist eine Absage gegen Zerfall und Untergang. "

(Ib id ., 400)

Even if creative man realizes that cycles of culture must end . . . and above everything floats infinity whose essence is probably not accessible to human comprehension, "der schopferische Mensch sieht dem ins Auge und sagt sich, in dieser Stunde liegt auf m ir das unbekannte und todliche Gesetz, dem muss ich folgen, in dieser Lage muss ich mich behaupten, ihr mit meiner Arbeit entgegentreten und ihr Ausdruck verleihen. " (Ibid.) 37

To confront this hour with his creative work was the poet's answer to the chthonic force in life that sought both to preserve itself and to perish (Primal Vision, 32), his answer to the urge and denial of the night when the individual ego had been all but lost* in the chaotic void of the contemporary world. (Ibid. , 36)

Benn reasserts his creative "Ich" in order to span the abyss that threatens to engulf him. His art stands as "das Ja uber den

•• 2 •• Abgriinden. " His poetry "stromt [ihm] aus dem Nichts zusam m en. " (HI, 298)

In the beginning all was void--and without form, but in the beginning was the Word--the Logos--which moved in Creativity upon the face of the deep, and in the present day is the Word-- the Poem--which waits upon the command of the poet.

Ein Wort, ein Satz--: aus Chiffern steigen erkanntes Leben, jaher Sinn, die Sonne steht, die Spharen schweigen und alles ballt sich zu ihm hin. (IH, 208)

Benn attributed artistic creation to the form-seeking power of nothingness which finds expression through the Word--

*Cf. "das Ich, dem Ich vorbei. " Citing Albert Soergel and Kurt Hohoff, Dichtung und Dichter der Zeit: Vom Naturalismus bis zur Gegenwart (Dusseldorf: August Bagel Verlag, 1963), H, 547. 2 Citing Lennartz, op. cit. , p. 50. 38

Nur in Worten darfst du dich zeigen, die klar in Formen stehn (Ibid. , 449)

Form is the whole being of the artist, "der existentielle

Auftrag des Kunstlers, sein Ziel. " (I, 508) Form is the ultimate goal of the poet; form "ist ja das Gedicht. " (Ibid. ,

507)

To aid in an understanding of what Benn meant by "form, " one may turn to the poet's comments about the form of Stefan

George's "Komm in den totgesagten park und schau" :

Er kennt seine Worte, er weiss mit ihnen etwas anzufangen, er kennt die ihm gemasse Zuordnung der Worte, formt mit ihnen, sucht Reime, ruhige, stille Strophen, ausdrucksvolle Strophen, und nun entsteht eines der schonsten Herbst-und Gartengedichte unseres Zeitalters--drei Strophen zu vier Reihen, diese faszinieren kraft ihrer Form das Jahrhundert. " (Ibid. , 508)

Benn does not believe that George's "L'art pour l'art" is in the least esoteric; but, recognizing the severe discipline that perfect form requires of the poet, he terms George's verse a "Sichherankampfen an schwere Dinge. " (Ibid. , 476) Benn understands full well that "das lyrische Ich ist ein durchbrochenes

Ich, ein Gitter-Ich, fluchterfahren, trauergeweiht ..." (Ibid. ,

512)

Through every moment, through every Word--out of

Creation's wound the blood pours forth; changing the earthly, 39

its nectar flows on the heart of Become and then returns

home:

Durch jede Stunde, durch jedes Wort blutet die Wunde der Schopfung fort,

verwandelnd Erde und tropft den Seim ans Herz dem Werde und kehret heim. (Ill, 157)

A "Saying-light” descends upon the poet who pursues with all diligence the forming of perfect poetry, but it is not a

"Healing-light, " for the wound remains and darkness will fall

again. This creative victory of Light over Darkness, of Form

over Void, of Poetry over Nothingness, must be won again and

again by the poet:

Nur diese Stunde ihr Sagenlicht und dann die Wunde, mehr gibt es nicht

ein Tausch, ein Reigen ein Sagenlicht, ein Rausch aus Schweigen, mehr gibt es nicht. (Ibid. , 157-58)

A Word, a gleam, a light, a spark, a thrust of flame, a stellar trance, and then again--immense darkness, the world and I and empty space (Ibid. , 208)--this is the "Reigen" of Creativity and the "Tausch" of Creation. 40

The continuous interchange, this ring-dance between

Darkness and Light, sets in motion the perpetual labor of

Creation's womb. The poet, like Ikarus (Ibid. , 46), is rewarded by a brilliant burst of sunlight- - that good light which was "before eyes were, " which will flood out the darkness, even though for but one hour. The pure form of the poet's pure art will then emerge, continuing to glow, scattering buds over the desert,

"Keime des Glucks und Keime der Trauer" (I, 593).

This art, this poetry, "bessert nicht, aber sie tut etwas viel Entscheidenderes: sie verandert. " (Ibid.) Notin any sense, however, should poetry be regarded as a therapeutic or pedagogical mouthpiece for the poet; it works in entirely different ways: "Sie hebt die Zeit und die Geschichte auf, ihre

Wirkung geht auf die Gene, die Erbmasse, die Substanz--ein langer innerer Weg. . . . Alle Dinge wenden sich um, alle

Begriffe und Kategorien verandern ihren Charakter in dem

Augenblick, wo sie unter Kunst betrachtet werden ..." (Ibid.).

Art is borne on a flood that promises flowering to the barren desert shore--all made possible because the poet poses himself, "das lyrische Ich, " against the void, "die Leere. "

The art of the poet is wafted on the wings of endurance and suffering-- "ertrage . . . Du musst" (Feise and Steinhauer, 41

Pt. II, p. 329), but all is endured, that from time to time a perfect poem may come forth, attesting to the creative victory of the poet over the powers of nothingness:

Ob Rosen, ob Schnee, ob Meere, was alles erbluhte, verblich, * es gibt nur zwei Dinge: die Leere und das gezeichnete Ich. (Ibid.) VI. GEORG KAISER

In February 1921, Georg Kaiser was brought to trial and

convicted of selling furniture and objets d'art from homes which he had rented. His own words of defense at this trial portray an artist completely obsessed by his work‘d and by the conviction

that "artistic immunity" should absolve him of any responsibility

toward the civil law, which he considered only a hindrance to the man of the spirit who should be exalted above the trivialities of

the every-day workings of society: "Irrsinnig bin ich nicht, also muss ich irgendwie recht haben. In diese selbstverstandlichen

Alltaglichkeiten kann ich mich nicht hineinfinden. Ich kapiere

es n ich t ......

Das da ist kein Verhaltnis von Recht und Unrecht . . . unsinnig

ist der Satz: Alles ist gleich vor dem Gesetz. Ich bin nicht

Jeder. . . . "^

*Cf. Pygmalion's confession that as a creative artist he has "aller Pulse bebend Leben vergabt dem Werk. " Georg Kaiser, Griechische Dramen (Zurich: Artemis Verlag, 1948), p. 12.

^Citing B. J. Kenworthy, Georg Kaiser (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1957), p. xix.

42 43

This belief in the special place which should be accorded the artist by his fellow-man culminates and finds its most poignant expression in the posthumously published Griechische

Dramen (1948), consisting of "Pygmalion" (1943-44), "Zweimal

Amphitryon" (1943), and "Bellerophon" (1944). It is in the last two of these dramas to be written (both completed in 1944) that one may clearly discern Kaiser's complete dogma concerning the call of the poet.

Kaiser explains his reason for turning to "das Studium des

Altgriechischen" in a 1943 letter to his wife: "Merkwiirdig fiihle ich mich in meine Jugend zuruckversetzt--als in das reinste Zeitalter meines Lebens . . . Vielleicht repetiere ich das Griechische nur, um diesen Reinigungsprozess zu erleben

. . . um die Gegenwart zu uberwinden, die wohl kaum lebens - wert ist . . .

To experience a cleansing process--cleansing from the refuse of his time--was the poet's ardent desire. To go back to the primal sources of purity and thus to be victorious over the unworthy present prompted Kaiser, in the last years of his life, to put down his pen as the foremost dramatist of Expression ism and to take it up again as a writer of classical blank verse.

^Ibid. , pp. xxii - xxiii. 44

In these Greek dramas Kaiser jubilantly praises the beauty of the world which Divinity has created and which the artist

("Pygmalion" and "Bellerophon") has sought to preserve. With wrathful indignation he unleashes his virulent judgment against the wickedness of mankind.

As "Pygmalion" opens, the sculptor--somnambulating-- descends the moonlit stairs of his workshop, revealing in whispered tones his visions of beauty--visions which take him and a lovely veiled maiden away across a blue ocean toward an island cove; but suddenly a slimy monster bars their way!

Pygmalion throws his chisel at the monster and the clattering

sound awakens him out of his dream. He realizes that the visionary maiden is in reality only the moon-beam encircled

statue which, although formed out of his very being, now stands

cold and unfeeling in the corner of his workshop.

If this perfect work of art cannot be a part of his real world, if "Traum" cannot become "Welt," then Pygmalion will take his own life; but Athene stays his uplifted chisel. She then reveals that Zeus, angered by the evil ways of men ("Zum

Schlamm erniedrigt sich das Menschenvolk, " 17), has already pronounced impending judgment on the world. Yet, says Athene, 45

. . . den Blitz des richtenden Vollzugs hielt ich noch auf im Hinweis auf der Kiinstler heiliges Geschlecht, das doch den Gott bewahrt inmitten der entmenschten Menge--wurdevoll und gross!-- -- (Ibid. )

And Zeus grants grace as long as the artist dips down into

the pure depths of the spring of humanity and creates a

"vollkommnes Werk" (Ibid.), thereby testifying to the still living presence of Divinity in the world. Pygmalion stands ready to answer his call:

ich bin auf meinen Knien nur bereit den Blitz zu fuhlen, der mich rasch versengt. Verbiet nicht mehr den jahen Feuerstrahl. (18)

Feeling keenly his own uniqueness among men ("Bin ich nicht s chaff end einem Go tte gleich? ", 19), Pygmalion desires

the living companionship of that Divine thing which he has

created, that that which was born of the inspiration that had lived within his heart may live again as the reality of the moment. He expresses his complete readiness to continue to

create for the sake of a "humanity-under-condemnation"

die Gnadenbilder fur die ganze Menschheit, die sie beim Gott entschuldigt. (21)

This idealist-artist has every hope of awakening the spirit of mankind through his art, under the influence of whose light the

dark powers of envy and strife will pale. (Ibid.) 46

Athene laments that the artist must bear the sin of the world:

. . . dass ein Mensch erlitt in der Erlosertat fur alle Menschen (Ibid.), but she grants Pygmalion his wish. Her recognition of the suffering which lies ahead is inherent in her solemn command to the artist:

Neige dich tiefer--um zu steigen hoher als es dem Flug der Lust erlaubt. Erleb1, was zu erleben hartren Tod bedeutet! (22)

Dig deeper in life, O poet, that you may ascend to greater heights of art!

Touching the statue with her golden spear, Athene dis appears, and Pygmalion's beautiful dream of art becomes reality before his eyes; "Traum wird Welt" --the statue has become a lovely young girl. As her purity and beauty flood the artist's soul, his immediate reaction is to escape the world of reality, to renounce "der Stunden Wechsel" (24), to protect the child-like innocence of Chaire.

There seems not only to be a desire on the part of the artist to spare his work the mocking of society, but also there is a tendency for the work itself to pull the artist away from the real world. ("Niemals ist eins von andern hier zu trennen, " 26) 47

Pygmalion's hopes of escaping to the island of his dreams

("da Traum die Welt und wieder Welt zum Traum wird, " 29) are crushed by "das Ungetum, " the once-visionary multishaped monster: vain pride, lust, and covetousness, personified in the wealthy fig-dealer Konon, the wanton widow Korinna, and the contemptuous Theban nobleman, Alexias.

The dark forces of evil inherent in these three persons seem to converge upon Pygmalion and Chaire. Arrested and bound in chains, they are brought to trial as a result of com- pounded-misunderstandings. In his defense in the market place the sculptor recalls how he first created Chaire out of stone, drawing upon Divine sources of inspiration, but being allowed only "Eintritt" into the realm of the gods over which by all rights he should rule. O how much must be sacrificed in order that art may be created! (102) The artist had not only been an exile from the realm of the gods, but he was separated from the people "durch hundert Einsamkeiten" (103), and if he would send a message to them out of the joy of his art, "gab es den

Strom nicht, der das wich'ge Holzstuck triige. " (Ibid.)

Perishing from thirst in an unending desert, languishing for the source-spring of divine inspiration, a stranger on earth, how could the artist have hoped to find satisfaction in the muddy 48 market-place? Having been allowed to capture "das Gottliche" in stone, transcending raw reality and embodying all that was valid in his soul and in his life in Chaire, Pygmalion had wished

to be a creator of life just as Zeus had been (115).

The people all laugh cruelly and ridicule his story of the miraculous birth of Chaire, who is thought to be an escapee from a house of prostitution.

Pygmalion, having been set free, returns to his work

shop and falls into a fevered sleep. Rousing and remembering the events of the past hours, he attempts suicide once more, only to be prevented a second time from ending his own life by

Athene, who tries to impress upon Pygmalion his holy call to assuage the wrath of the gods upon a humanity who have laid waste their divine gifts:

Lass mich nicht verlieren den Kampf um Menschen, die Zeus viel erzurnten und nur durph deinesgleichen noch des Seins sich freuen. T*ote nicht die Kunst mit dir-- sie bilden Menschen, wenn sie gottlich werden, und machen Gotter machtlos, die nur Menschen bilden. (124)

The human artist has at his disposal the means of creating

Divinity, rendering the gods powerless, for they can only create humanity--the poet's task is indeed majestic!

Kaiser realizes that this Divine Art cannot be a part of the world of "getting and spending. " It can remain in the world, 49 but only indirectly can it hope to influence human affairs for the betterment of mankind. Art must be distanced from the bestiality of the human race in order that it may not be destroyed by m an's evilness; yet ever remain a testimony to the gods that there is still a remnant of the divine among men.

The lonely artist must create again and again out of his suffering, strengthened only by the knowledge that the gods suffer with him (127}. He must understand that his art can only live in the protecting-stone (132). He must come to the bitter realization that there is no utopian realm in which the boundaries between life and art (dream) have been removed, in which the separating- walls erected by the mad ways of men have been torn down, in which life and art dwell together in beauty. The artist watches

Chaire turn back to stone; and, bowing in submission to his artistic call, the lonely Pygmalion acknowledges:

Sie kann nicht beide sein-- -- dies zu verstehn ist m ir von nun an bitter aufgegeben. Es sollen Traum und Leben sich nicht einen zum einz'gen Ring ohn' Anfang und ohn* Ende. (132-33)

His dream shattered, Pygmalion quaffs the bitter cup, and in deep anguish he cries out: 50

-- --Sind Wunden solche Beete, aus denen jene Purpurrosen bluhn, die blut'ge Blatter tragen?-- --So entspriessen aus blutiger Verwandlung meine Rosen, die farbiger die andern ubertreffen-- der Schopfung tief gehiitetes Geheimnis.-- --(133)

The poet comes to know the deepest secret of Creation-- to be able to create out of the purple roses of pain from the wounds that will never heal, in the hope that the blood-tracks of his art might lead some perceptive ones to a higher plane of purposeful activity:--the price--

Pygmalion in Blut und Schmerz und Leid?-- --(Ibid.)

Whereas in "Pygmalion" there is a definite progression of important ideas and many pronouncements concerning the call of the poet, in "Bellerophon" there are a minimum of specific lines which are pertinent to the subject, but it is rather the total impact of this later drama which shows Kaiser's com plete abdication of the world of humanity. In "Pygmalion" it is as though Kaiser were still struggling with the implications of the poetic call; but "Bellerophon" rings out with the poet's irrevocable judgment against a humanity out of which only the purest ones--the undefiled artists--are worthy to be saved.

From the opening lines of the play, one hears the gentle tones of Bellerophon's willow lyre, but the evil tyrants have no 51 time to heed this call of beauty. Only the pure and lovely maiden, Myrtis, who is to be the chosen-companion of

Bellerophon, is responsive to the music of this shepherd-boy, so "rein von Unrecht" (300), "von Anbeginn der wiirdigste"

(367). It is in the face of such innocence that Bellerophon's enemies are finally damned.

At the close of the play, Apollo appears and reveals that he was the wise shepherd in whose care the young Bellerophon had grown up. It was he who had fashioned the lyre of willow twigs and taught the boy to play sweet songs. To this lyre which accompanied Bellerophon through the wilderness of his wander ings had been lent magic qualities by Apollo, that it might charm every ear which was susceptible to its music:

Doch stumpf und dumpf verhartet Taubheit sich und wuste Uberlegung sinnt den Tod. (375)

Bellerophon would have been divinely guided to safe harbor out of the midst of these,the evil machinations of men, but

Apollo, realizing that eternal loneliness might be fresh torture, granted him a period of grace in which to find an ideal com panion. This one he had discovered in Myrtis, and together they will now form the newest star in the lonely eternity of the gods. 52

To replace the willow lyre which had grown mute and fallen apart, Apollo presents Bellerophon with a silver lyre,

das unverganglich seinen Klang bewahrt und durch den Himmel tonen lasst das Lied dauernd von Myrtis und Bellerophon.

After completing this last drama, Kaiser wrote to Casar von Arx: ". . . Mein Schwanengesang. Ich habe mich selbst in die Sterne versetzt. . . . Having despaired of any awaken ing of mankind to the things of the Spirit, the poet has removed himself entirely from the realm of men who have continuously frustrated the Divine impulse in the world. He can no longer endure. The intended blessing of the poetic call has become a cu rse:

Genug--genug. Nicht mehr ist zu ertragen. Mehr nicht--mehr nicht. Der Blitze ist genug, die m ir die tiefen Wunden brennend schlagen. Es ist kein Segen m ehr--es ist ein Fluch. ^

The final supplication of the poet is that he be taken out of this cursed world, his desire is that he be consumed by the gods:

Dem Schrei ist Antwort heisseres Entziinden und das Erbarmen weicht noch weiter weit. Mehr denn. Triff mich in meinen tiefsten Griinden Verbrenn1 mich--gluh' mich aus. Ich bin bereit. ^

^Ibid. , p. 184.

^Citing Duwe, op. cit. , p. 175.

3Ibid. VII. WILHELM LEHMANN

A new kind of nature poetry, which gave testimony to the dogma, "die Orthodoxie der funf Sinne, 11 was the poetic legacy which Wilhelm Lehmann left to such poets as Elisabeth

Langgasser, Gunter Eich, Peter Huchel, and Karl Krolow.

This "Natur-Dichter" believed that

Wir sehen, was wir horen, fiihlen Die Ufer sind die Melodien. (115)

One must regain his "balance of the senses" in a world turned upside down, by returning to a true appreciation and understanding

of the world of nature; and then, says the poet,

Zerbricht der hohle Weg in einen Duft von Zimt. Der Glanz beglanzt der vielen Briiste Runde, Die Erde hangt ihr an mit jedem Munde. Ich hore die versunknen Wesen saugen, Ich seh den Staub verwandeln sich in Pfauenaugen. *

Lehmann's world was filled with myriad birds, trees,

grasses, and shrubs, whose voices spoke to him and through his poetry. Coming only as an "Antwort des Schweigens, " Nature,

the W orld--"der Heilige"--is silent, "da er das All sich selber

zeugen la s s t. " (16)

* Citing Soergel and Hohoff, op. cit., II, 624.

53 54

In a luxuriant wild flora, the poet's fauna bred, crawled, or took to wing; moment by moment "ein greller Gott wispert hier mit sich selbst. This dazzling god of Nature does not

reveal himself in a purely descriptive manner, but he lives in

Lehmann's poetry as "Elementargeist. "

Borrowing Loerke's phrasing (49), Lehmann further

defines his Nature-world as "der Grune Gott, " whose power is

exceedingly great, for he gives life to life itself--in him "wuchs

das Leben erst zum Leben" (50).

The poet is called upon to lose himself in the nothingness

of silence, then will the world lose her body of sorrow as she

rests "im Arm des Gedichts. " (62) The poem that rises out of

this silence is the redeemer of existence, the articulation of being and therewith its fulfillment. The true "Wort, " the

"Lied, " is hidden in Nature, while the "All" of Creation is

"verengt" (83) within the poet. As the wind in the reeds, the poet, obedient to the urging call of Creation, is able to release

this "All" on the wings of song. (Ibid.)

This idea is rather unique with Lehmann: the poet's

embodying the heart of Nature and the poem residing in Nature,

until the poet holds out his hand to her, and "sie schmiickt die

*Ibid., p. 623. 55

Haut [ihm] mit leisem Zeichen" (95)--holy signs (127) from a holy world (137). The poet understands these "signatures11 of the Creation, for

In ihre Art geschickt, Lebt alle Kreatur. (106)

But he asks himself the searching question:

Bin ich nur ihr entruckt Und ohne Signatur ? (Ibid. )

The reassuring answer comes. The poet finds his own identity when he "sees" and "hears" the birds, when he accords to them their true identity:

Die Vogelkreatur, Kann ich sie horen, sehn, Brauch ich nicht mehr zu flehn Um meine Signatur. (107)

Lehmann sums up his theory in the essay "Wirkungen der Literatur" : "Wir sind erst in der Dichtung. " Continuing, he cites Novalis* well-known lines: "Die Poesie ist das echt absolut Reelle. Dies ist der Kern meiner Poesie. Je poetischer, je wahrer. "*

In yet another essay, "Erfahrung des Lyrischen, "

Lehmann stresses that the poet is not to use words as the

*• • • 2 "Fuhlfaden aller seiner Erkenntnis, " but rather, his true call

*Ibid. , p. 630. ^Ibid. , p. 628. 56 is to get beneath the surface appearance of things "zu ihrem eigentlichen Dasein . . . aus der Scheinsprache zu der eigentlichen Sprache vor. The great task of the poet, "das

Z 3 di-chterische Tun, " is a "Widerstandsbewegung" --a resist ance movement against the "language of appearances. "

Thus stripping language of its sham, the poet stands ready to call the now nameless creatures by their true names:

Wenn die Mittagslichter brennen Und die andern Menschen ruhn, Kommt in seinen grauen Garten Nur der Dichter, nichts zu tun Als das Namenlose nennen. (93)

The harmonious intimacy between the poet and nature brings comfort to Lehmann. When the evilness of men ("Aus

Stoppelfeldern drangt Gauchheil der Menschenspuren, " 103) crowds in upon the poet's consciousness, he finds a "Deliverer" in the magic of the cool green leaves:

Mit dem Blattermund, der kuhl an meinen drangt, Still der Nachricht, die das Herz versengt,

Durch ein weissgegliihtes Sieb die Seele presst, Nichts dem Nichts mehr ubrig lasst--. (108)

The times are now free from trouble ("miihelose Zeit, "

103) and valid ("giiltige Zeit, " 229). The poet has no need to

^Ibid. ^Ibid. 57

despair, for the Word lends immortality to the times, and the poet will be able to fulfill his mission ("im Wort geborgen,

Unverwelklich seine Zeit, 11 Ibid.)* He may, however, find

cause to sorrow, but the lovely world will not forsake him:

Weinend hull ich das Gesicht, Schone E rd e, la ss m ich nicht! (67)

By means of his poetry, the poet can negate the Terrible:

Sanft hat in Dichtermund Das G rauen sich gebettet. (171)

The world of Nature which he holds in his embrace is trans formed by "das Wort" into a paradise:

Ich weiss das Wort, den Mond zu hissen, Ich bin im Paradiese vor dem Falle. (224)

This paradise of Nature, this "nahe Ferne, ferne Nahe" (50),

is an ever-living, ever-dying, and ever-reawakened Nature--

"die Sohne werden weiter dichten"*; and because Nature is

everlasting, so is the work of the poet, for Nature and the Poem

are One--"der grune Gott war dein Gedicht. " (49)

*Ibid., p. 629. VIII. HERMANN BROCH

Through five-hundred odd pages of sheer poetry in his lyrical novel, "Der Tod des Vergil" (1945), Hermann Broch propounds his ideas concerning the call of the poet.

The plot is concerned with only the last eighteen hours of the Roman poet's life--from the time he arrives, deathly-sick, at an Italian port, in the retinue of Emperor Caesar Augustus-- until the hour of his death.

His frail body racked by fever during the long night,

Vergil passes in review his whole life and finds it wanting. The climax is reached when he feels an imperative summons to burn the Aeneid; Augustus prevails upon him not to destroy this work of art, and Vergil, having finally arrived at a clearer compre hension of his call as a poet, comes to understand that this unfinished writing, as it stands, possesses some of the validity of which his past life and work have been so bare.

There are really two dramas in one: the outward hap penings surrounding Vergil's death, and, far more important, the unfolding of the poet's mind through a rhythmical flow of

58 59 imagery and symbolism emanating, as it were, from the throb bing stream of Vergil's consciousness.

Each new experience of soul-searching on the part of

Vergil leads him a step closer to reunion with the Infinite, but the final consummate merging of the Created with the Creator is only possible after an agonizing struggle. This theme is not new to German literature. It finds expression in varying ways in

Goethe's "Polaritat und Steigerung" and in his idea of the con tinual metamorphosis of the individual--"stirb und werde!" ; and also in the related theme of the "ewige Wiedergeburt" of

Nietzsche and others.

Vergil's inner collapse begins to take shape even'while he is still aboard ship in the harbor and gathers momentum as he is borne by slaves through the city's slum district. The poet laments that hope has fled--hope that the hallowed and serene sky of Homer would favor the completion of the Aeneid (10).

Destiny has pushed him out into the savage loneliness of this crowd of humanity, a crowd to whom he has always been a stranger, for "bloss am Rande seiner Felder war er geschritten, bloss am Rande seines Lebens hatte er gelebt . . . ein Gast seines Lebens. " (11) And now suddenly he is thrown 60 into the midst of smoldering avarice and lust, rootless, but ready to devour, "allesverschlingend" (12).

Vergil had always endeavored to hold fast to his ideal of the unity in human existence--to protect it from mentally dis integrating into manifold existences, to preserve it as a perfect image within his mind. By so doing he had in fact only approached the "Pforte des Wissens" (19). Now he was forced to look upon a fragmented world--that which he had hitherto ignored--"das dumpf brutende Massentier" (21).

Surely these were not the Roman people whom he had so glorified in the Aeneid--this teeming, unholy, unspeakable, inexpressible, incomprehensible Evil! He can no longer evade the answer which floods his soul:

Ja, und dies war das Volk, das romische Volk, des sen Geist und des sen Ehre er, Publius Vergilius Maro, er, ein echter Bauernsohn aus Andes bei Mantua, zwar nicht geschildert, wohl aber zu verherrlichen versucht hatte! Verherrlicht und nicht geschildert, das war der Fehler gewesen, oh, und dies hier waren die Italer der Aneis! (22)

But with "des Unheils Ahnung" (Ibid.), there came "das erweckende Heile" (Ibid. ), knowledge-aware, knowledge- fraught, knowledge-persuading, which must be a part of every true song. For the first time Vergil was aware of the people's profound capacity for evil in all of its ramifications, "namlich 61 des Volkes Unheilsabgriindigkeit in ihrem ganzen Umfang" (23), and the poet was able to realize that his own blindness was

"selber ein Teil des Unheils" (24).

Slowly carried through the "Street of Misery, " step by step (44), Vergil is now compelled to see, to hear, to experience

"bis in die letzten Wurzelgrunde seines eigenen Seins" (24) life as it really is. The poet had never before gotten beyond the stage of being physically born, now he must come to know that

"Geburt, um gultig zu sein, nach Wiedergeburt verlangt. " (48)

Rebirth--Redemption--is made possible only by the dissolving of a merely-perceived unity ("Vorlauschen, Vorsuchen, Vorfiihlen, "

85) and the rebuilding of an experienced unity: "Aufl'osung zur

Erlosung--zur neuen Einheit. " (Ibid.)

Vergil had never resisted death which he now views with such dread, but he had resisted life, he had been "voller

Widerstand gegen Gemeinschaft und Liiebe" (93). His hope had always been that, as a poet, life would be revealed to him in some mysterious way from the "beyond" (94).

This revelation of life, however, rises from the seething masses of humanity, and despair engulfs his being: "Oh,--ihr

Gotter! auch die Aneis wird unabgeschlossen bleiben mussen, unfortsetzbar, unabgeschlossen wie dieses ganze Leben! (102) 62

He had thus arrived at the forecourt of reality (112). His glance had been forced "erdwarts" (145). If only now he could under stand that the poet is duty-bound to help his fellow man, to awaken that good thing which slumbers within the human heart.

The god who is the guardian of the pledge of prayer, the pledge of duty (145), knows that the hope of mankind lies with the poet. This god, whose "erlosendes Wort" (Ibid.) is able

through the poet to restore language ("die Sprache") anew to a pledge-bearing unity, hopes that thereby it might be lifted out of

• • the "Uber-und Untersprachlichkeit" (145) into which it has fallen. The gulf between the poet and the people must be bridged.

Language must be rescued out of the "Wolkigkeit der Schonheit, "

out of the "Zerfetztheit des Lachens, " out of the "Dickicht der

Undurchsichtigkeit" and reestablished as "Werkzeug des

Eides. " (145) This is the task of the poet, the duty of the poet,

"die irdische Pflicht" (146), the helping-duty, the awakening-

duty, beside which there is no other. (Ibid.)

The gods have a duty, too, "die Menschheitsverpflichtung

des Gottes" (Ibid.), to awaken the poet to his sense of respon

sibility toward his fellow-man, to help him to recognize the

"Nicht-Gemeinschaft der Sprachstummheit" (147) and the

speech-robbed "Nicht-Gemeinschaft der Vereinzelten" (Ibid.), 63 which may be dissolved through love, help, communication, trust, and language (147).

Vergil had hoped that "die Macht der Schonheit" (148) and "des Liedes Zauberkraft" (Ibid.) might bridge the abyss of lack of communication, but he came painfully to acknowledge that this was a flagrant overestimation of beautiful poetry (Ibid.).

Beauty is only one side of life, and what is needed is that poetry, as a symbol, reflect the "Zusammenhange" (149) of all of life, in order that life's contradictions may fall into balance (150).

The "Sprache der Schonheit" must be cast off, the poet must reach beyond its cold surface and push on to simple words.

These simple words, coming close to death, are able to help men to liberate their imprisoned souls and to re-instate among themselves a "Sprache unmittelbarer Gute" (151).

What a pity for the poet to be thrown into the prison of art ("Kerker der Kunst, " 151); he must then become either a vain dreamer, or, if he is a real artist, he despairs, for he ever hears the "Ruf jenseits der Grenze" (151). Vergil has de spaired, for he knows that he has been untrue to his mission; but he now longs for an "Erneuerung des Schopfungseides" (152), that he may never exclude himself "von der titanischen 64

Bewaltigung und Verwirklichung und Vergottlichung des

Menschen-Seins" (152).

Art must represent the fate of man and his continuous

self-mastery of existence. The artist must first pursue his

own soul, as it penetrates more and more deeply the inner

thickets of Being and the inner reality of Ultimate Knowledge, as

it experiences the grace of descent, the grace of self-knowledge,

which belong to the soul as well as to art--their common truth.

The soul, thus realizing the great equilibrium between the ego

and the universe, is able to recover herself in the universe and

to experience thereby a "Seins-Zuwachs im All, in der Welt, ja

im Menschentum uberhaupt" (153). His soul awakened, the poet

is able to uncover the inscrutable Divinity in the universe and in

the soul of his fellow-man--even in the soul of the most degraded.

Just as birth implies rebirth, even so life implies death,

and death implies new life--in art as well as in life. In this near

ness to death, art "zum Sinnbild entfaltete Menschenseele ist"

(154). The poet must deny his earlier attempt to create a

death-fixed beauty with human beings as the lifeless building

blocks--eternally uncreated. Now he must acknowledge man in

his bestiality, in his great need for help, not as a mere word-

c re a tu re . 65

The poet himself must descend again and again into the

fires of rebirth* in order that he may immerse the "Word" in

the primal springs of all Matter. This--Vergil had never done,

and therefore the Aeneid must be burned! "Alles durchdringende

Form und kalt" (221)--this was not enough.

To the poet, who has been a mere "word-maker, " comes

• • an unmistakable command: "Offne die Augen zur Liebe!" (244)

Vergil does open his eyes to love ("a smiling love, " 480)--love

for his beloved Plotia, for a servant-boy, for his friends, for his

slaves, and for his Emperor, in demonstration of this new-found

Love, Vergil asks Augustus to accept the Aeneid; but the poem is

to remain as it is, an unfinished incongruity--as is life!

Every human work has to rise from twilight and blindness

and therefore must possess "Unstimmigkeit" (477), which is but a reflection of man's "Unzul&nglichkeit" (Ibid.) and yet, of

his "Gottesnahe" (Ibid.). Only in this incongruity, says Broch,

may the poet reveal the fearful glory of the human lot, which ever

reaches out beyond itself. This revelation is only possible through

the human Word, which occupies the unique position between the

"Stummheit des Tieres und der des Gottes" (478).

*In Part IV of the novel, Vergil experiences in death a pro cess of "creation-in-reverse" and is then re-born into life-- "the ring of time closed and the end was the beginning" (481). 66

The poet must again and again penetrate to the "Logos" in order to extract the Word's substance, the Word's comfort, the Word's blessing, the Word's advocacy, the Word's redemp tive power, the law-founding force of the Word, the Word's renewal--once more expressed and expressible in the insufficient but still sole-sufficing representatives of human actions and wanderings, made known, preserved, and repeated in them forevermore.

The poet assumes the divine task of mediating the Pure

Word, for this "Logos" is the "word beyond speech" (481), the "word of the pledge" (Ibid.). Itself unutterable even for the poet, the "Logos" ever remains the place of birth and rebirth of the imperfect, yet valid Word of the poet, which in turn promises spiritual renewal for the poet and for the people "an jeder Wende der Zeit. " IX. GERTRUD VON LEFORT

The first seventeen pages of Gertrud von LeFort's Gedichte

(1954) are devoted to a section entitled "Von Dichtung und Muse. "

This special emphasis is indicative of the high regard in which

she held her call as a poet. No doubt her religious background and deep Christian convictions influenced her thought toward an assurance of having been set apart ("Ungerufen betratst du einst mein Gemach, " Gedichte, 5) unto a high calling, summoned by a divine Muse ("von oben, " Ibid. , 9), who moved in wonderfully mysterious ways her blessings upon the poet to bestow. LeFort's deep gratitude is offered to the Muse ("Dank an die Muse, " Ibid. ,

5-6), at whose beckoning she had long ago been drawn away from

the simple play-circle of her sisters and led to the place of song:

Du nahmst mich an Liedes Statt an Und gabst m ir Heimatrecht in deinem bezaubernden Reich. (Ibid. , 5)

By grace the poetess has become a citizen of the realm of

the Muse, to whom she responds with a heart overflowing with

love:

Ich habe dich lieb gehabt, so wie du geliebt sein wolltest, Lieb mit der ganzen Stimme, lieb mit jeglichem Worte, Lieb mit alien Kraften der Sprache und Tone, Lieb ohne Vorbehalt, lieb ohne Nebenliebe. (Ibid.)

67 68

"Ask and it shall be given you" has been her experience fro m that m om ent on:

Nichts hast du m ir versagt, das ich begehrte, In holder Verwandlung nur gabst du mir das Erflehte, Mit vollen Handen hoch uber jedem Verhangnis! (Ibid.)

The Muse has accompanied ("treuste Gefahrtin, " Ibid. , 6) her Chosen One in all her ways: glorifying her joy, lovingly sharing her sorrow and burying it in song, teaching her to rise above the stony paths, making it possible for her to be the

"bitternislose im bittren Geschehen der Weltnis" (Ibid.).

The poetess has nothing but praise ("Lob der Muse, "

Ibid. , 7-8) for this "Schwester der hohen Sibylle" (Ibid. , 7).

Though not intended to be a prophetess, how like one the Muse is (Ibid.), and her love is all-embracing:

Denn alles liebst du ja schon gleich einer Erlosten: Die Blumen, die Tiere, Quellen und Strome, die blauen Wiesen des Himmels und die grunen der Erde, Die ganze Schopfung, die zur Verklarung bestimmte, Yerklarst du vorauf im Gesang! (Ibid.)

Not only does the Muse, the "suss-heimliche Christin"

(Ibid.), celebrate in song the finite world of Creation, but she

crowns suffering--"das verstossenste Kind dieser Erde" (Ibid.)-- with her kiss, "wie eine Lieberin des gekreuzigten Gottes! "

(Ibid.). Never does her song celebrate the successful; her 69 mission is rather to embrace the weeping with "ewge Erbarmung"

(Ibid.), to swallow-up the "wasted life" in the arms of her song, to awaken doubting souls to intimations of immortality,

Zart wie am Ostermorgen die Flugelgesange der Engel, Wenn sie das Felsengrab sprengen . . . (Ibid. , 8)

It is by a miracle of grace ("Gnade des Dichters, " Ibid. ,

9) that LeFort's tongue has been loosed to sing the praise of the

M use, for

Stumm aber wird der Dichter geboren, Sprachlos steht er im Kreise der flinken Sprecher

Nur eine, die himmlische Muse entzaubert sein Schweigen, Sie, die den heiligen Schlaf der Lieder behutet, Und ihr Erwachen erkiisst. (Ibid.)

The holy sleep of the songs is protected by the Muse until by her kiss a Chosen One is awakened, who, in turn, awakens "die

L ied er. "

This grace of the gift of song descends upon the poet, whose voice is not commanding, but whose spirit never submits to the wisdom of this world or to its own desires. The poet awaits, in unbreakable chains, the chiming hour:

Die da mit Flugeln bricht aus dem Unbekannten, Mit Flugeln fallt sie ihn an, mit Flugeln hebt sie ihn auf, mit Flugeln lasst sie ihn fallen Zuriick ins Gefangnis der Ohnmacht. (Ibid.) 70

And yet one song is worth a thousand hours of silence. Yes,

splendid it is to be dependent on a heavenly voice! (Ibid.)

LeFort stresses both in her Gedichte and in her

Aufzeichnungen und Erinnerungen (1951) that poetry has an irresistible inclination to embrace the erring, the frustrated, and most assuredly--the guilty--"diese Neigung ihren Gipfel

dem Schuldigen gegenuber erreicht" (Aufzeichnungen, 45); for victors in the battle of life and conquerors in the history of the world "lassen die Muse kalt. " (Ibid. )

Maintaining that the realm of poetry is the tragic

("Tragische Dichtung, " Gedichte, 10-12), LeFort quotes from

Schiller's "Die Gotter Griechenlands" :

Was unsterblich im Gesang soil leben, Muss im Leben untergehn. (Aufzeichnungen, 45)

Poetry lies in the same direction as that consummated in

Christianity--the recognition of a lost world and the reaching out in love and compassion to redeem the guilty, "die Musen lieben die fallenden Sterne" (Gedichte, 10).

The poet is called to seek out the downtrodden, to em brace both the beggar and the despised king, to follow the guilty

one fearlessly "bis zum bosen Tal des Geschehens" (Ibid., 11), but to hate the wanton offense, 71

Doch wenn der gottliche Blitz den Vermessenen fallte, Dannkniet seine Stimme nieder, erschiittert von Ehrfurcht und Grauen, Und er bedeckt den Entsuhnten Mit seinem erbarmenden Lied. (Ibid.)

Under the shadow of his wings, under the compassionate song of the poet shall the sinner find refuge.

LeFort warns against being untrue to the summons of the

Muse: "Weh aber weh" (Ibid. , 12). She proclaims that if the time ever comes when "der Umarmende" (Ibid.) has denied his call and "sich zum Verstossenden wandelt" (Ibid.), then the whole foundation of human existence will be on the brink of d isa ste r:

Dann, dann, ja dann ist es aus . . . Es fliesst keine Trane mehr, es bebt kein heiliges Erschauern Um das entgottlichte W ort--die Musen verhullen ihr H aupt-- Kahl wie der Baum des Gesanges, unendlich einsam Ragt das vergebliche Kreuz. (Ibid.)

It is therefore imperative that the "Stimme des Dichters"

(Ibid. , 13-17) be attuned to the needs of the times.

LeFort raises her voice to make known her own intimate relationship to Creation:

Tausendmal ward ich geboren und tausendmal kusst ich Dies holde, gewaltige Dasein-- Auf tausend Namen bin ich getauft, Tausendmal ward ich vermahlt und tausendmal bin ich gestorben! (Ibid. , 13) 72

Her soul swings from one form to another:

Ich habe alle We sen bewohnt, die ich gesungen, Ich ging ihnen mitten durchs Herz! In jedem Hause, das meine Stimme umrankte, War meine Heimat, An jedem Ufer, wo meine Harfe hing, hing meine Seele. (Ibid.)

When the narrow prison "des grauen Alltags" threatened to enclose her:

Dann lief ich m it leuchtender Leier Die Hugel der Gesange hinab Und die strahlenden Hohen der Lieder empor. (Ibid.)

The symphony of Creation fills her soul:

O diese Stimmen des Alls, O diese gewaltgen Liturgien der Schopfung: Das leuchtende Credo der Sonnen, das Gloria der Sterne, Das brautliche Liebesgebet der blumenempfangenden Erde Und ihre M utterlieder, die lallenden, lullenden Quellen! (Ibid., 14)

But the poetess does not forget the weary and the op pressed: they speak through her mouth, cry with her eyes, live their lives through her life. (Ibid. , 15-16) From which one of these lives will she finally emerge as an identity?

Wie aber, wenn sich einst am Ende der Tage Der strenge Engel erhebt; den Namen schallend, Den einen von alien, der m ir allein gehorte: Aus welchem Grabe werd ich erstehn, aus welchem Schicksal mich sammeln, Mit welchen Handen erfleh ich im letzten Gericht Das ewge Erbarmen? Ich weiss es nicht, mein Gott--ich habe mich langst vergessen. (Ibid., 17) Long since has LeFort forgotten herself, but her songs and the trusting forms of the suffering ones will plead for her before the angel and will lend her own soul back to her. She desires to claim her soul for "nur eine Stunde" (Ibid.) :

Dass ich bestehen kann, denn ach, von allem, was mir gehorte, Blieb mir nur das Verschwendete, nur das Verschenkte. (Ibid.) PART II. STEFAN GEORGE X. POET WITH A PURPOSE

Consecration of the Muse

From the days of his youth Stefan George was aware of having been set apart unto a high calling. In images somewhat reminiscent of the Apostle Paul's sudden conversion on the road to Damascus, George describes his early vision and immediate dedication to the call of the poet. In the midst of an aimless life of wandering, a life devoid of beauty, suddenly a heavenly image confronts the poet, and within the depths of his being he accepts the summons to be the standard-bearer of Love:

Ich wandelte auf oden diistren bahnen Und planlos floss dahin mein leben. In meinem herzen war kein hohes streben Es schien mich nichts an schonheit zu gemahnen.

Da plotzlich sah ich - o wer sollt es ahnen - Ein himmelsbild an m ir voriiberschweben . . In meinem innern fuhlte ich ein beben Und Liebe pflanzte ihre siegesfahnen. (II, 470)

Perceiving that in the face of life's deception and pain more is expected of the poet than a passive love, he vows actively to praise the fate that has sent him this vision of beauty. By Love's hand he has been led in a dream to the realms of inspiration and action:

75 76

1st m ir auch taus chung nur schmerz geblieben Und kann ich Dich von glorienschein umwoben Anbetend und begeistert still nur lieben:

So muss ich doch das giitige schicksal loben Das mich durch Deine hand zur tat getrieben Und zu den sternen mich emporgehoben. (Ibid.)

This initial period of response to the dawning realizations of the abundant blessings of the poet's call was beset by tortuous fears of his own inadequacy to bear worthy fruit:

Manchmal durchzuckt es mich wie heller strahl Es treibt mich an zu streben und zu s chaffen Dann angstigt mich der hindernisse zahl Und alle krafte fuhle ich erschlaffen. Das konnen ist die frucht des reichsten segens . . Was nuzte mich - o tief empfundne qual - Das rasen ob des eignen unvermogens? (Ibid., 473)

These doubts, however, by no means fostered an atmosphere of complacency for the young poet; for from the "diistren hallen"

(Ibid. , 516) of his generation, George emerges as a student who questions life and its values.

Characterizing his early role as "ein tiefer freund des denkens" (Ibid. , 517), the poet describes his first terrifying encounter with hitherto "unbekannte welten" (Ibid.) of nature:

Ich schliirfte trunken jeden laut von aus sen Ich fiihlte innres rasen . . . (Ibid.)

He seeks refuge in the recently-discarded values of his fathers, but realizes that "nichts mehr ist hier mir wert" (Ibid. , 518); 77 he is drawn toward that lonely hour of soul-freedom--that time of tarrying for blessings of the spirit (Ibid. ).

Admittedly not knowing exactly what it is that drives him away from his former life, nor to what "nachsten ziel" (Ibid.) he herewith has surrendered, George is still determined to experience first-hand what he perceives to be "die lebende

W eisheit" (Ibid. ):

. . . der leiber Der blumen und der wolken und der wellen. (Ibid. )

Since he has already been repulsed by the manifest world of nature, perhaps it is the vital womb of creativity--the answer to life itself--that George seeks.

These earliest poems, although written between 1886 and

1889, were first published in 1901 under the title "Die Fibel"

(Ibid. , 465-518). In the intervening years limited editions of what would become George's first major work--"Hymnen,

Pilgerfahrten, Algabal" (I, 7-59) were published.

"Weihe"--the initial poem in "Hymnen"--underscores

George's resolve to escape the finite world of his past and im m erse himself in the primeval images that preserve life and space. His mounting defiance of the existing order emerges in cogent imagery, as he seeks by the reed-rimmed river, as night - descends, the consecration of the Muse: 78

Hinaus zum stromt wo stolz die hohen rohre Im linden winde ihre fahnen schwingen Und wehren junger wellen schmeichelchore Zum ufermoose kosend vorzudringen.

Im rasen rastend sollst du dich betauben An starkem urduft, ohne denkerstorung, So dass die fremden hauche all zerstauben. Das auge schauend harre der erhorung.

Siehst du im takt des strauches laub schon zittern Und auf der glatten flu ten dunkelglanz Die dunne nebelmauer sich zersplittern? Horst du das elfenlied zum elfentanz?

Schon scheinen durch der zweige zackenrahmen Mit sternenstadten selige gefilde, Der zeiten flug verliert die alten namen Und raum und dasein bleiben nur im bilde. (Ibid. , 9)

George is now ready to accept the boon offered by the dream- encircled goddess who denies not her kiss to the poet--so pure and ripe for bliss:

Nun bist du reif, nun schwebt die herrin nieder, Mondfarbne gazeschleier sie umschlingen, Halboffen ihre traumesschweren lider Zu dir geneigt die segnung zu vollbringen:

Indem ihr mund auf deinem antlitz bebte Und sie dich rein und so geheiligt sah Dass sie im kuss nicht auszuweichen strebte Dem finger stiitzend deiner lippe nah. (Ibid.)

There is no earthly passion in this embrace, for the Muse is a creature of the Spirit, sent to comfort and assure the poet with a phantom kiss, to celebrate with him his joy, and to help him bear his suffering in this chaotic world: 79

Doch so kann ich mit schattenkuss nur trosten Ich leichter wolke kind und lichter plane: Im chaos fragen, jubeln dem Erlosten Und dulden wie ich deine duldung ahne. (Ibid. , 20)

As George contemplates the task set before him, he is intensely aware of a profound yearning within the womb of nature to establish through the poet a living and meaningful relationship among the manifold parts of the great body of creation:

Die jenen wonnetag erwachen sahen Empfinden heiss von weichem klang berauscht, Es schmachtet leib und leib sich zu umfahen. (Ibid. , 10)

But the Chosen One must not yield himself to the lure of nature's magic; he must needs penetrate to the heart of life. His pur poses may only be accomplished through a rigid self-discipline which will compel him to perfect the style of his creative out pourings. *

Der dichter auch der tone lockung lauscht. Doch heut darf ihre weise nicht ihn ruhren Weil er mit seinen geistern rede tauscht:

Er hat den griffel der sich straubt zu fuhren. (Ibid.)

However firmly resolved the young poet may have been to pursue his work with all diligence, he has yet to be fully persuaded of

t &iQ2K..long.:.tbJe . s t r e t c h e s out beyond each bend. V ;------^Ilfeis at this time that George begins to work with the "terza rima" verse form. 80

At his bidding the gardens of reality fade into oblivion while burning moons flee through the garden gates. The poet stands wondering if the hope of his calling has now been fully realized, or will he be compelled to build on the words of promise as a pilgrim, staff in hand:

Friihe nacht verwirrt die ebnen bahnen, Kalte traufe triibt die weiher, Gluckliche Apolle und Dianen Hullen sich in nebelschleier.

Graue blatter wirbeln nach den gruften. Dahlien levkojen rosen In erzwungenem orchester duften, Wollen schlaf bei weichen moosen.

Heisse monde flohen aus der pforte. Ward dein hoffen deine habe? Baust du immer noch auf ihre worte Pilger mit der hand am stabe? (Ibid. , 22)

Believing it necessary for the sake of his art to become a stranger to the existence of which he had once been a part and to journey forth in quest of . "das schone leben, " George early sought to gather around him a select circle of fellow poets with whom he could share his abnegation of the world. Such a

"Dichter der Schonheit" was the young Hugo von Hofmannsthal to whom George dedicated the "Hymnen, " in memory of their days of eager enchantment (Ibid. , 26)--days which were destined to be short-lived, for the Austrian poet soon came to reject the basic prem ises upon which George so devotedly fashioned his 81 myth. It is as if George were aware of their impending sepa

ration from the beginning, for his pilgrimage begins in utter

loneliness:

ALSO BRACH ICH AUF UND EIN FREMDLING WARD ICH UND ICH SUCHTE EINEN DER MIT MIR TRAUERTE UND KEINER WAR (Ibid.)

Forsaking the places which have not answered his needs, the pilgrim-poet roams through desert lands:

Ich muss aus d.er statte wo keinerlei gnaden m ir warden Durch wusten weiterfliehn. (Ibid. , 33)

Throughout "Pilgerfahrten, " hostile demonic forces ("Boser

engel, verfiihrender engel! " , Ibid. , 37) ever seek to turn the

dedicated poet aside:

Hinan und hinunter verletzen mich harene karden Und schwellende blatter wie schlangen am boden ziehn. (Ibid. , 33)

But at the edge of the precipice the storm-tossed pilgrim ("die winde wirren ihm das haar, " Ibid. , 37) gains firm footing and becomes forcefully aware of new and varied goals that lie just

ahead for him who would be the m aster of his own destiny:

An dieser hohe saum Entdeck ich auf ihrem haupt eine grunende insel, Da steht ein thujabaum, Gebusche ranken am rande, Von droben wie aus der kindlichen m eister pinsel Erstrecken sich turme und brucken und stadte und lande, Wie manches neue ziel! (Ibid., 34) 82

The destiny of the poet is to bring to submission this rebelling world of nature in order that he might mold it to fit his creative purposes. Old visions are now impotent: "Ihr alten bilder schlummert mit den toten. " (Ibid. , 36) The poet is seized by rumors of enchantment and inspired to create new images:

Getroffen von berauschenden geruchten Erblick ich in dem blauen wiesental Die reiher weiss und rosafarben fluchten Zum nahen see der schlaft und glanzt wie stahl. (Ibid.)

These new visions shall distance the clamoring creation as

George turns to a symbolic representation of what lies before his eyes: "O weisses spiel durch diese hullen ahnen! " (Ibid.)

•'Pilgerfahrten” closes with one of George's most-famous poems, the first stanza of which is often cited as an apt definition of the poet's verse:

Ich wollte sie aus kuhlem eisen Und wie ein glatter fester streif, Doch war im schacht auf alien gleisen So kein me tall zum gusse reif. (Ibid. , 40)

George felt that neither he nor the times were mature enough for this fashioning of verse "aus kuhlem eisen" and conse quently he ventured next to write "Algabal" which he describes in the next stanza of "Die Spange" :

Nun aber soil sie also sein: Wie eine grosse fremde dolde Geformt aus feuerrotem golde Und reichem blitzendem gestein. (Ibid.) 83

Algabal is the late Roman Emperor Heliogabalus whom

George sees as the priest-emperor who, like himself, has been set aside from ordinary life for a special purpose. The work is dedicated to King Ludwig II of Bavaria, the patron of Wagner, and lover of the arts, who had attempted to create an artificial mode of life to replace the ordinary humdrum existence.

George sees in Algabal's kingdom the conscious building-up of that which one individual considers worthwhile and beautiful, turning away from the beauty which lies in the things of nature over which man has no control, in the sense that they are accessible to anyone and everyone. Having himself turned away from the unknown and unwanted world of nature, George feels an affinity to such kingly figures, "die das los fur den purpur gebar" (Ibid. , 53), for this poet is but another

Kind erkoren von den Hulden Zu der volker heil und liebe. (Ibid. , 56)

The exotic poetry of "Algabal"--the lavishly jeweled clasp of flaming gold--is not what George had felt destined to create. The vision of that true destiny returns again at the end of "Algabal" in the image of the snow white and silver swallows, at first stifled by hot bright winds (Ibid. , 59); but then the picture changes as the poet continues to follow the birds' flight: 84

Schwalben seh ich wieder fliegen, Schnee- und silberweisse schar, Wie sie sich im winde wiegen In dem winde kalt und klar! (Ibid.)

The vision of the swallows, however, momentarily fades from view as George turns to legend and history for the themes of "Die

Bucher der Hirten-und Preisgedichte, der Sagen und Sange und der Hangenden Garten" (Ibid. , 61-115). These three books are not intended by the poet as reflections "eines geschichtlichen oder entwickelungsabschnittes" (Ibid. , 63), but rather are "die spiegelungen einer seele" (Ibid.) which has temporarily taken refuge in other eras and other regions. The poet recognizes that "jede zeit und jeder geist riicken indem sie fremde und vergangenheit nach eigner art gestalten ins reich des personlichen und heutigen und von unsren drei grossen bildungswelten ist hier nicht mehr enthalten als in einigen von uns noch eben lebt. "

(Ibid.)

In "Die Bucher der Hirten-und Preisgedichte, " the only one of the three having any direct bearing on the role of the poet, George is attracted to figures who stand out in their solitude.

The shepherd is pictured against a setting of bright rivers, green meadows, singing fields, fragile shells of many hues, cool 86

Die fischer uberliefern dass im suden Auf einer ins el reich an zimmt und ol Und edlen steinen die im sande glitzern Ein vogel war der wenn am boden fussend Mit seinem schnabel hoher stamme krone Zerpflucken konnte, wenn er seine flugel Gefarbt wie mit dem saft der Tyrer-schnecke Zu schwerem niedrem flug erhoben: habe Er einer dunklen wolke gleichgesehn. Des tages sei er im geholz verschwunden, Des abends aber an den strand gekommen, Im kuhlen winde shauch von salz und tang Die s’usse stimme hebend dass delfine Die freunde des gesanges naher schwammen Im m eer voll goldner federn goldner funken. So habe er seit urbeginn gelebt, Gescheiterte nur hatten ihn erblickt. Denn als zum erstenmal die weissen segel Der menschen sich mit gunstigem geleit Dem eiland zugedreht sei er zum hugel Die ganze teure statte zu beschaun gestiegen, Verbreitet habe er die grossen schwingen Verscheidend in gedampften schmerzeslauten. (Ibid., 69-70)

This great legendary bird whose whole life has been dedicated to beauty cannot abide the menacing onslaughts of a materialistic world, revealing an early stage of George*s developing ideas concerning the call of the poet. Although

George continues to proclaim that the world of men, uncaring and unconcerned, will never be directly awakened to "das schone leben" by the "Dichter der Schonheit, " the poet later firmly asserts his faith in the power of the poet to establish and promulgate a spiritual power cell which holds the promise of the yeast--a promise of a gradual and ever-widening circle of 87 influence. The hope for the future lies in those who lift up their

eyes to the hills of Beauty amidst a society which lays waste its

potentiality for all save materialistic gain.

All of these figures symbolize George--the lonely shepherd-

poet who has consecrated himself to the holy mission of poetry--

the fieldgod-poet whose very nature sets him apart from the

crowd of humanity- - the singer-poet whose poetry of beauty is

threatened by an unfeeling world of men.

The poet thereafter resolves that his art shall be protected

from the evil society of his day; it shall be purified within the

deep recesses of the temple. A divine voice, the voice of "das

schone leben, " calls him

Zum tempel zum dienst Des Schonen: des Hochsten und Grossten. (Ibid. , 71)

Art for Art's Sake

The Blatter fur die Kunst (twelve series of five numbers

each between 1892-1919) announced by the very title what its aim

was to be: that is, to serve art exclusively. The first number

of the journal series indicated that by art was meant especially

the art of poetry (Ibid. , 531). All that had reference to the state

or society was excluded from consideration. What was desired

was "Kunst fur die Kunst"--George's ideal being an exclusive 88

cultivation of "das schone leben, " a life in which all conflicts

resolved into an harmonious dedication to beauty. It was on this

common ground that the three greatest poets of the day--George,

Hofmannsthal, and Rilke--met in a brief communion of ideas

leading to the founding of this literary journal. Soon thereafter

each of the three went his separate way as is the wont of the

greatest creative artists. The poets who did compose the

"George-Kreis" were never able to rise above the shadow cast by their m aster and only served as the supporting force for the

George myth. (Ibid. , 389)

Later, in the poem "Der Prophet, " Hofmannsthal seems

to attribute his estrangement from George to a change in

George's attitude. He describes the initial meeting with George as a time in which "ein Zaubertrunk halt jeden Sinn gefangen, " but then he concludes:

Er aber ist nicht wie er immer war, Sein Auge bannt und fremd ist Stirn und Haar. Von seinen Worten, den unscheinbar leisen, Geht eine Herrschaft aus und ein Verfuhren, Er macht die leere Luft beengend kreisen Und er kann toten, ohne zu beruhren. ^

No doubt George's masterful and autocratic personality

disturbed the sensitive Hofmannsthal; but rather than George's

* Citing Soergel and Hohoff, op. cit. , I, 377. 89 having made an about-face, one can see that the initial enchant ment for the seventeen-year-old Hofmannsthal had simply vanished. Upon close association with George, the younger poet had come to realize, probably all the sooner, that his poetic mission lay not in being a disciple of beauty.

Antithetically, George's entire life was dedicated to the ideas expounded in Blatter fur die Kunst. In direct opposition to Naturalism, the intention of the George-writers was to divorce art from life (Ibid. , 530) and to found "die geistige kunst auf grund einer neuen fuhlweise und mache. This new sense of feeling did not concern itself in any manner with com mon, every-day "wollust" (Ibid. , 532); but rather, it was a feeling elicited from within that spirit artistically tuned to and permeated by a sense of the beauty of form and sound. It was this awakening to a new artistic sensibility for which George strove with such dedication and discipline: "Die kunst ergreift am meisten in der man das atemholen neuer noch schlafender geister spurt. " (Ibid. , 531) And of all the arts, poetry was elevated to the place of supreme importance: "Die dichtung hat eine besondere stellung unter den kiinsten. Sie allein kennt das 90

geheimnis der erweckung und das geheimnis des ubergangs. "

(Ibid.)

Poetry alone knew the secret of the awakening and the

secret of the passage! Not just any poetry, but only a purified

poetry, could fulfill these expectations, and the poet must effect

this purification. There must be an elevation of language out of

the effete realm of common usage, and the poet must bring about

this elevation--the poet who recognizes in language a most

sacred creative instrument.

This redemption of "das Wort" has attracted many poets

over the years and for each of them it presents a different

challenge. Liliencron owed much of his originality to a spon

taneous and sometimes even roguish use of common words.

Rilke stated his belief that not one word in a poem, not even an

"and" or a "the", is identical with the same word in conven

tional speech. George, along with his predecessors in this

respect, Klopstock, Platen and Meyer, often substitutes for the generally used word one which has a loftier meaning.

George saw in the redeemed-word a greater symbolic possibility; and not only was symbol important to the word, but to the poem, and to the entire artistic creation. The word, the 91 poem, and the whole artistic work must individually and collec tively raise their symbolic voices.

The poet further perceived that the secret meaning woven intricately into each artistic utterance could be further

enhanced by the beauty of form. In the essay "Uber Dichtung"

(Ibid. , 530-31) George speaks of the worth of a poem as being

determined by its form, a form he defines as "jenes tief

erregende in maass und klang wodurch zu alien zeiten die

Urspriinglichen die M eister sich von den nachfahren den kiinst-

lern zweiter ordnung unterschieden haben. " (Ibid. , 530) The poetry of the "Epigonen" may possess outward form, but only

the "Meister-Dichter” is able to penetrate to the primal

sources of original creativity and produce a perfectly-formed

work of art. The very essence of such consummate art is its

inseparable unity of symbol and form. Poetry from the m aster's

hand can not and must not be dissected into pleasing little

strophes, for "die notwendige folge des einen aus dem andern

kennzeichnet erst die hohe dichtung. " (Ibid.)

The creation of such "priestly poetry" became the con-

sinning passion of George's life. His entire poetic career

lends evidence to a conscious fashioning and sustentation on

his part of the esoteric qualities of his verse: his early invention of a "vokalreiche Geheimsprache"*' (closer to the more primal

Old High German); the omission from his verse of capital letters and of generally used punctuation except where needed for emphasis and his avoidance of the use of prepositions, articles, and conjunctions; the uniquely uniform type (all letters of equal height) in which his poetry is set and the use of the raised period in lieu of the comma; the poet's own slow and solemn oral declamation of poetry, resembling the intoning of the office in the

Catholic church and also remindful of a Gregorian chant; the enhancing of his poetry's elemental qualities by the m asterly use of assonance and alliteration ; and, finally, the gradual trans formation of George's poetry from that which speaks of the role of the poet to that which by its very nature fulfills the call of the poet--the call to evoke the Divine.

^Cf. the last two verses of "Ursprunge" in "Der Siebente Ring" (I, 295).

Cf. "Komm in den totgesagten park und schau" and "Es lacht in dem steigenden jahr dir" in "Das Jahr der Seele" (Ibid., 121, 153). XI. POET WITH A MISSION

Communion with His Soul

George had characterized his earlier "Bucher der

Hirten-und Preisgedichte, der Sagen und Sange, und der

Hangenden Garten" as m irrored reflections of a soul (Ibid. , 63), but beginning with "Das Jahr der Seele" (Ibid. , 117-67) the poet has reached the point of a direct and personal communion with his own soul. He is convinced that the power of uttermost creativity lies within the poet who becomes "der kenner der seele"

(Ibid. , 532). It is only out of the overwhelming awesomeness of solitude that poetic insights are born; the creative artist who would experience the deepest suffering by mingling with the crowd does not understand that "tiefster schmerz deutet sich . . . nicht an durch ausstossen von wehlauten auf offenem markt" (Ibid. ), but the true poet discerns that "der kenner der seele . . . hort ihn [den schmerz] unendlich riihrend als seufzer aus einer scheuen einsamkeit. " (Ibid.)

This creative experiencing of the world is what George was struggling to achieve as he shed the pilgrim's weeds, the

93 94

emperor's purple, and the dress of a recluse and now stands naked before the deeps of his own poetic being. In the preface

to "Das Jahr der Seele" the poet says "selten sind sosehr wie

in diesem buch ich und du die selbe seele" (Ibid. , 119)> and it

is to this dark sister soul that George addresses the poems. *

He now understands that if he is adequately to answer the poetic

call, he must plumb the inexhaustible riches of his own soul,

finding there the "Kraft" to deny the finite world of nature in

order that he may build up an infinite world of art.

In the opening poem George urges his "dustre schwester" :

Komm in den totgesagten park und schau: Der schimmer ferner lachelnder gestade, Der reinen wolken unverhofftes blau Erhellt die weiher und die bunten pfade.

Dort nimm das tiefe gelb, das weiche grau Von birken und von buchs, der wind ist lau, Die spa ten rosen welkten noch nicht ganz, Erlese kusse sie und flicht den kranz,

Vergiss auch diese lezten astern nicht, Den purpur um die ranken wilder reben, Und auch was ubrig blieb von grunem leben Verwinde leicht im herbstlichen gesicht. (Ibid. , 121)

* Although "Das Jahr der Seele" is dedicated to Anna Maria Ottilie and also contains numerous dedicatory poems, George clearly indicates in his preface that these,persons have no bearing on the real meaning of the poetry. Perhaps George had hoped to share his art with some, of these friends but had found this to be impossible. 95

They say the park is dead or perhaps effete "words” have brought about its death, but you and I will see it awaken. Nature is there, waiting to be molded and controlled by the hand of the poet--and perhaps you, too, my dearly beloved sister, will awaken at my call.

As the poet-chosen itinerary leads through swirling snow, he discovers that the stones which had threatened to block his path "verschwanden alle in dem weichen schooss" (Ibid. , 126).

So artistically stimulating is this new sense of control over the natural order of the universe that George stands ready to bless what he knows will be "die schwere wandrung. 11 (Ibid.) His newly-created world, "die einsam keusche fahle" (Ibid.), is alive with sounds and shapes far more splendid than those of any night in May:

Und wir bekannten ihren rauhen machten Dass in den reinen liiften tone hallten Dass sich die himmel fullten mit gestalten So herrlich wie in keinen maien-nachten. (Ibid. , 127)

This soul-awakening is not achieved momentarily, and when the poet realizes that he must completely destroy his former world, having yet not fully apprehended the new (Ibid. ,

128), he experiences the frightening unsubstantiality of the intermediate moment: 96

Nun heb ich wieder meine leeren augen Und in die leere nacht die leeren hande. (Ibid. , 129)

Then as if to assure himself that he is answerable only to his own creative impulse, George over-leaps the promise of antic ipated spring that the thawing waters bring and resolutely follows his own inner call-- symbolized by the "brother" whose "joy- banner" beckons from another shore:

Weg den schritt vom brande lenkend Greif ich in dem boot die ruder - Druben an dem strand ein bruder Winkt das frohe banner schwenkend. (Ibid. , 130)

The impetuous warmth of a "tauwind, " traditional harbinger of spring, symbolically bares the fallow earth of creativity in whose furrows new blooms of beauty will spring up--impelled by the withered blossoms of the old:

Tauwind fahrt in ungestiimen Stossen.uber brache schollen, Mit den welken seelen sollen Sich die pfade neu beblumen. (Ibid.)

The triumph of summer (Ibid. , 131) is the triumph of "das schone leben, " that "reich der sonne" (Ibid. , 132), created by the "kenner der seele"--a realm in which the poet and his soul

"allein die freude ziere" (Ibid.). George has attained a large measure of the poetic assurance for which he has so desperately struggled: 97

Wie ein erwachen war zu andrem werden Als wir vergangenheit in uns gebandigt Und als das leben lachelnd uns gehandigt Was lang uns einzig ziel erschien auf erden. (Ibid. , 133)

This is the crowning hour when the union between the poet and his soul has been divinely consummated:

Auf einmal alle stunden so nur galten: Ein muhevolles werben um die hohe Die uns vereinte, die in ihrer lohe Gestalten um uns tilgte und gewalten. (Ibid. , 134)

After this period of crisis, George felt that his pen was not yet ready to bring forth great poetry; but while he tarried for the ripening process to be accomplished, he continued to write, turning his hand to light rhymes (Ibid. , 136-51). The poems, however, which precede these dedicatory verses, reveal what George had salvaged from his discarded youth--those values which would lend continued support to his creative struggles.

Even as a child, the poet had shunned the crowd (Ibid. , 136 and 138) and locked himself in dreams:

Zu meinen traumen floh ich vor dem volke, Mit heissen handen tastend nach der weite Und sprach allein und rein mit stern und wolke Yon meinem ersten jugendlichen streite. (Ibid. , 136)

The affinity between dreams and creativity is considered highly significant by the later George, as shown by his comments in

• • ^ tfUber Dichtung, " the precis of his artistic creed: 98

Das wesen der dichtung wie des traumes: dass Ich und Du, Hier und Dort, Einst und Jezt nebeneinander bestehen und eins und dasselbe w erden. (Ibid. , 531)

George's early desire to set himself apart from other men had led him to create a secret language which they could not comprehend:

Des sehers wort ist wenigen gemeinsam: Schon als die ersten kiihnen wiinsche kamen In einem seltnen reiche ernst und einsam Erfand er fur die dinge eigne namen -

An deren kraft und klang er sich ergezte, Sie waren wenn er sich im hochsten schwunge Der welt entfliehend unter traume sezte Des tempels saitenspiel und heilge zunge. (Ibid. , 137)

O that he might realize his dreams--the youthful George had prayed that the image which had taken shape within his spirit might grow into the sun:

Als er zum lenker seiner lebensfriihe Im beten rief ob die verheissung loge . . Erflehend dass aus zagen busens muhe Das denkbild sich zur sonne heben moge. (Ibid.)

As "Das Jahr der Seele" draws to a close, George faces once more the abyss of his own soul, in order that he may test his readiness for the impending task of creating a tapestry of life. In the concluding "Traurige Tanze"--the poet's final evaluation of his past life ("dies leid und diese last, " Ibid. , 99

158 )--he clearly sees that the shadows will soon be enmeshed in light:

Der hugel wo wir wandeln liegt im schatten, Indes der druben noch im lichte webt. (Ibid. , 162)

For though heavy vapors hang from bush and tree, the poet has but to command and the pallid spectres do not delay him in his search for "das schone leben" :

Ob schwerer nebel in den waldern hangt: Du sollst im weiterschreiten drum nicht zaudern, Sprich mit den bleichen bildern ohne schaudern, Schon regen sie sich sacht hinangedrangt. (Ibid. , 163)

Amidst the sadness of the final dances of past days, the holy call of poetry arises, bringing healing in its wing. The poet is assured that all has been worthwhile since he has been responsive to an awaking awareness of a divine call from the days of his youth. It will suffice his poetic needs if he but fully grasp the value of past moments when he had caught sight of the abundant life. Reaffirmation of his divine election once more crowns his writing--as promising as the poetry "aus kuhlem eisen!11 (Ibid. , 40), as hopeful as the swallows "in dem winde kalt undklar! " (Ibid. , 59), as rewarding as the grandeur of the silent earth "in ihrem silberlaub und kuhlen strahle" (Ibid. ,

126), as inspiring as the ,(brother" who waved "das frohe banner" (Ibid., 130), as refreshing as the sleep "aus dem sie 100 froh und schon erwacht" (Ibid. , 135)--just as auspicious as all of these is that which comes to him now from afar:

Bescheide dich wenn nur im schattenschleier Mild schimmernd du genossene fulle s chaus t Und durch die muden lufte ein befreier Der wind der weiten zartlich um uns braust. (Ibid. , 167)

And behold! Past days which once were burning wounds are no more; yet, all that, once known as Beauty, is gathered together and remains ever alive and meaningful--at the abnegated ,rtoten quell" (Ibid. , 167).

The Divine Imperative

The poet has now attained full stature as a "kenner der seele, " and beginning with the "Teppich des Liebens" (Ibid. ,

169-223) searches zealously "nach strofen drinnen tiefste kummernis" (Ibid. , 172), * only to discover a naked angel (Ibid.) whose spirit is buried in a wealth of precious blooms--"und rosen, rosen waren um sein kinn. " (Ibid.) The angel's voice, almost like the poet's own (Ibid.), announces:

Das schone leben sendet mich an dich Als boten . . . (Ibid.)

Many years before, the Muse had consecrated George to his mission and now the Angel brings a sense of beatification and

^Gf. "tiefster schmerz" (I, 532). 101 delight in the chosen way. The poet vows he will not breathe save in the fragrant air of the Angel's shrine of Beauty:

Ich mag nicht atmen als in deinem duft. Yerschliess mich ganz in deinem heiligtume! Yon deinem reichen tisch nur eine krume! So fleh ich heut aus meiner dunklen kluft. (Ibid.)

Then realizing that if the full blessing is to be his, he must wrest it from the Angel as did Jacob of old, George quickly challenges the Angel:

Ich aber bog den arm an seinen knieen Und aller wachen sehnsucht stimmen schrieen: Ich lasse nicht, du segnetest mich denn. (Ibid. , 173)

Only then can the poet proclaim:

Nun halt ein guter geist die rechte waage Nun tu ich alles was der engel will. (Ibid.)

What had appeared in the past to be "starre diademe"

(Ibid. , 174) to be worn in weariness has now been transformed into a flowery wreath, "versprechen einer neuen morgenblust"

(Ibid.).

No longer need the poet look to distant shores for inspi ration, for the Spirit of his native Rhineland stands ready to yield up "das geheimnis ewiger runen" (Ibid. , 175), and that

"lebengriiner Strom! " (Ibid.) holds treasure far richer than the great and ruined Rome. George is thus commissioned to search out the secret of the eternal runes--a secret which promises 102 ultimately to manifest itself in a Divine Revelation if the poet but pursue it with unrelenting devotion.

The Angel binds the poet to a covenant of "Kunst fur die

K unst" :

So komm zur statte wo wii* uns verbiinden! In meinem hain der weihe hallt es brausend: Sind auch der dinge formen abertausend 1st dir nur Eine - Meine - sie zu kunden. (Ibid. , 178)

All things are to be seen by the poet in the light of Beauty--a light which shall in turn emanate from his finished work of art.

There can be no hesitation, for the summons is Divine:

Nun spricht der Ewige: ich will! ihr sollt! (Ibid. , 179)

These heights of sanctification are.the culmination of

George's determined pursuit of "das schone leben. " This moment of divine imperative is the time of harvest within the soul of the poet:

Die fruhe liebe blieb zum licht, zu holden Gelanden sanftem berg und schlanker pinie Zur reinen farbe und zur klaren linie Und zum gefluster aus den gartendolden. (Ibid. , 180)

The poet may now speak "wie herab vom ather" (Ibid. , 182), while "neue lichter" (Ibid.) illumine the night. Having been fully redeemed from his past life, he comes to know, "der lang verborgen als ein sichrer tater" (Ibid.). The withered earth gleams anew, George's "brothers" assume poetic significance, 103 the secret of Beauty transforms the "traurige tanze" of humanity into the new dances of Divinity:

Die welken erden hob durch neue glanze Und seinen briidern durch sein amt bedeutet Wo sie vor alien wahren ruhm erbeutet Und das geheimnis lehrte neuer tanze. (Ibid.)

George clearly sees what starry fathoms separate him from the worlds of other men (Ibid. , 181). Although his goal will be to give new shapes and colors to the "streit von mensch mit mensch und tier und erde" (Ibid. , 182), his creative offerings of Beauty will neither be understood nor accepted by the masses:

So steigt allein den gottern opferbrodem Wie ihm d r heiligen jugend lobesstimme Die uber seine stufen h’oher klimme In ih re m odem viel von seinem odem . (Ibid. , 183)

These gods to whom George will offer his poetry are clearly the deification of his own poetic ego, for in place of the tradi tional image of God's breathing into man the breath of life,

George pictures gods in whose breath there is much of his own.

The poet ponders life, and revelation pulses through his veins. The healing "Word" pierces his soul like an arrow:

Da steigt das machtige wort - ein grosses heil - Ein stern der auf verborgenen furchen glimmert Das wort von neuer lust und pein: ein pfeil Der in die seele bricht und zuckt und flimmert. (Ibid. , 182) 104

Bringing "Losung" which "wird den seltnen selten im gebilde"

(Ibid. , 190), the mighty "Word" unfolds the "Teppich des

Liebens" within the poet*s soul. Primeval landscapes, thun derous storms, lonely strangers and marble statues are among the oddly-meshed figures that leap to life when George speaks.

Finally the parade of life draws to a close in a song of dream and death. All opposites are reconciled within the unchained spirit of the poet:

Da am weg bricht ein schein fliegt ein bild Und der rausch mit der qual schuttelt wild. Der gebot weint und sinnt beugt sich gern "Du m ir heil du m ir ruhm du mir stern"

Dann der traum hochster stolz steigt empor Er bezwingt kuhn den Gott der ihn kor . . Bis ein ruf weit hinab uns verstosst Uns so klein vor dem tod so entblosst!

All dies sturmt reisst und schlagt blizt und brennt Eh fur uns spat am nacht-firmament Sich vereint schimmernd still licht-kleinod: Glanz und ruhm rausch und qual traum und tod. (Ibid., 223) XII. POET WITH A REVELATION

Divine Incarnation

In "Der Siebente Ring" (Ibid. , 225-342) George reveals himself as the conscience of his times--times when "nur niedre herrschen" and love has withered (Ibid. , 244). * Men have

denied the existence of beauty, thereby presaging their own

downfall (Ibid. , 244-45). How can one flee the foulness of this

earth--asks the poet, and the answer resounds in the final

"Lobgesang. " Prepare the way for the Incarnation of Divine

Beauty in the person of the boy-god Maximin-- the supreme manifestation of "das schone leben"! :

Du bist mein h err! wenn du auf meinem weg, Viel-wechselnder gestalt doch gleich erkennbar Und schon . . . (Ibid. , 276)

The advent of Maximin is the advent of a long-awaited

Spring:

Nun wird es wieder lenz . . Du weihst den weg die luft Und uns auf die du schaust - So stammle dir mein dank.

*Cf. also "Vorrede zu Maximin" (Ibid., 471-541).

105 106

Wenn solch ein auge gluht Gedeiht der trockne stamm, Die starre erde pocht Neu durch ein heilig herz. (Ibid. , 280)

To the poet who had once sought only the austere discipline of winter's cold, who had thus refrained from deeds until his hands were sure (Ibid. , 182)--to this same poet the radiance and warmth of a holy fire has descended. New miracles of spring have put to flight the icy gloom of former years:

In eurem schleppenden und kalten jahre Brach nun ein fruhling neuer wunder aus, Mit blumiger hand, mit schimmer um die haare Erschien ein gott und trat zu euch ins haus. (Ibid. , 284)

The death of this fair young "freudenbote" (Ibid. , 288) seems to be symbolically linked to the very efficacy of "das schone leben, 11 for inspired by his star (Ibid. ) and infused with his spirit (Ibid. , 291), George now feels that from his sacred lyre will rise

EINEN sonnigen lobgesang. (Ibid. , 307)

Maximin's short-lived presence among the George-Kreis has purified the "tempelbogen, "

Da blieb nur wer als priester kam . . . (Ibid. , 288)

George himself is spiritually transformed; he is now the

"child of his own son" (Ibid. , 291, 353, and 359). The poet's divine sensitivity has given birth to Maximin (Ibid., 359), and in 107

turn his divinity has been transmuted into George (Ibid. , 373).

The poet is now transported into realms of spiritual ecstacy

(Ibid. , 293) as he releases his creative powers through the terza

rima verse forms--these forms being perfected in "Stern des

Bundes" and the "Neue Reich.

The Eternal Bond

Maximin appeared as the "stern des gottes" and, through

George, continued to live as the "Stern des Bundes" (Ibid. ,

345-94). Beginning with the writing of this book, George has less to say about the call of the poet, but rather, through per fectly formed poetry he accomplishes what he considered to be

o his holy mission --to produce faultless works of art, thus giving testimony of the abiding presence of the Divine in "die

Schonheit. " Morwitz gives an excellent analysis of some of the differences thus produced between George's earlier poetry and

"Stern des Bundes" :

^Ernst Morwitz, Kommentar zu dem Werk Stefan Georges (Munchen: Helmut Kupper, 1960), p. 287.

^Melitta Gerhard in her book Stefan George (Bern: Francke Verlag, 1962), p. 100, draws an analogy between George's "Stern des Bundes" and Holderlin's late "Hymnen, " in that each work "selbst schon durch die von Grund aus erneuerte Sprache die Echtheit seines [des Dichters] Sehertums bezeugt. " 108

Die Gedichte des "Stern des Bundes" enthalten Weisheiten und Gesetze (Weistumer) einer neuen Welt, des neuen Lebens. . . . Der Zusammenhalt der Worte und Verse wird . . . die Wucht eindeutigen Sagens, also durch die Kraft der Sprache selbst, hergestellt, die wie in der Antike nicht Mittel zur Vorstellungs- anregung, sondern Endzweck. . . . Die Worte, der einfachsten und ungeschmucktesten Sehens-und Redeweise entnommen, schieben sich durch ihr Eigengewicht ineinander und gewinnen auf diesem Weg einen inneren Rhythmus. Wie die einzelnen Worte verklammern sich auch die Gedichte dieses Bandes, sie sind nicht gradlinig auf-oder absteigend wie in fruheren Werken, sie suchen von alien Seiten her den gedanklichen Kern moglichst eng einzukreisen. . . . Sie bleiben nach Ton und Sinn anfanglos und endlos, weil der Raum, aus dem sie tonen, unbegrenzt und unbegrenzbar ist. Durch das Reime enthaltende Gedicht am Ende jedes der Abschnitte und Teile wird der kreisende Sinn und Klang der voraufgegangenen reimlosen Gedichte mit Hilfe der befestigenden Wirkung des ausseren Reimes in sich geschlossen.

Having reached this level of mastery over "das machtige

Wort, " there is no doubt that George is deeply conscious of the impelling validity of his call:

Nennt es den blitz der traf den wink der lenkte: Das ding das in mich kam zu meiner stunde . . Ungreifbar ists und wirklich wie der keim. Nennt es den funken der dem nichts entfahren Nennt es des kreisenden gedankens kehr: Nicht spruche fassen es . . . (Ibid. , 358)

He is even more deeply aware of the power that has been de livered into his hand, for

^Morwitz, op. cit., p. 340. 109

. . . als kraft und flamme Fullt es in bild in welt-und gottesreich! (Ibid. , 359)

By no means, however, does the poet conclude that he is the first or the last Proclaimer of Divinity upon this needy earth:

Ich komme nicht ein neues Einmal kiinden: Aus einer ewe pfeilgeradem willen Fuhr ich zum reigen reiss ich in den ring. (Ibid. , 359)

George firmly states that his mission is not to bring what comes

only once, but to take his place within a circle of new awakeners

(Ibid., 358) who throughout the ages shall fight desperately to withstand the flood of disintegration which ever threatens to

engulf civilization:

. . . dem rad das niederrollt Zur leere greift kein arm mehr in die speiche. (Ibid. , 362)

George is not certain at this point whether he will be able to close the gaping wound of society, for the "hybris" of man kind has sorely offended the gods and the wrath of heaven has broken forth from crimson clouds. (Ibid. , 360) The Divine c rie s out:

Siech ist der geist! tot ist die tat! Nur sie die nach dem heiligen bezirk Gefliichtet sind auf goldenen trirem en Die meine harfen spielen und im tempel Die opfer tun . . und die den weg noch suchend Brunstig die arme in den abend strecken Nur deren schritten folg ich noch mit huld - Und aller rest ist nacht und nichts. (Ibid.) 110

All creation, however, is not doomed; the gods still pursue with their blessing those who abide in their temple-- and those others still groping for the way. The judgment pro nounced on civilization should not be allowed to cast its shadow on those who have not been wanton with the vintage of the gods-- those who have received and given in keeping with the divine law (Ibid. , 374). For them the windows of heaven have opened, the earth is swept with joy, the deed is born:

Die Tat ist aufgerauscht in irdischem jubel Das Bild erhebt im licht sich frei und nackt. (Ibid. , 367)

As the second book opens, "das schone leben" which had been so passionately sought, has now been fully revealed. The

Angel of "Der Teppich des Bebens" has become living reality in the person of Maximin. * George surrenders completely to this Divine Manifestation of Beauty:

Vernichte mich! lass mich dein feuer schlingen! Ich selbst ein freier gab mich frei zu eigen . . (Ibid. , 374)

In this surrender the poet does not disappear into oblivion, but rather he is born anew:

Seitdem ich ganz mich gab hab ich mich ganz. (Ibid. , 375)

^Duwe, op. cit. , p. 105. I l l

Then once again George clearly indicates that this Divine

Star which appeared in the body of Maximin and which now fills the poet's entire being has been torn from its orbit by nothing but the power of the poet's love!

UBER WUNDER SANN ICH NACH In der weisheit untern kammern: War der gott der mich erleuchtet War der geist der mir erschienen Fern aus unermessnen hohn? Hab ich selber ihn geboren? Schweig gedanke! seele bete! Ist ein wunder gleich dem einen Wunder dieses ganzen jahrs? Riss ich nicht ins enge leben Durch die starke meiner liebe Einen stern aus seiner bahn? (Ibid., 377)

The poet's devotion to Beauty has caused that "Deathless

Spirit" to take what was mortal--the boy-Maximin--and by empyreal power make it immortal--the god-Maximin--(Ibid. ,

380).

The refreshing and ever recurrent promise of spring has become a reality of the moment:

Keimmonat ist es . . fruhste fruhe Verhulltes sprossen keusche bluhe Ein kuhles licht ein herber hauch. (Ibid.)

The final book of "Der Stern des Bundes" proclaims the present joys of this Spring of Beauty--a time of new awakenings and new beginnings. The earth is laughing as on the day of creation, the wind carries along the marvelous singing of 112 newly-awakened worlds, a holy light floods the land--this is the newly-born "reich des Geistes. "

The flame of Beauty encompasses the circle of initiates who gather round George. Their eyes are lifted up toward the sourceof all their joy in order that they may be inspired to be living examples of mortals who have been touched by the Divine

--who have forsaken the poisonous atmosphere of a' society devoid of any sense of Beauty--who may themselves be the awakeners of a new people to whom they will impart their know ledge of the new word which has been made flesh and whose

Beauty they have beheld:

• Auf hohen ward ein quell entspiindet Und frische inseln bluhn versteckt: Das neue wort von dir verkiindet Das neue volk von dir erweckt. (Ibid. , 385)

George does not clearly indicate at what precise time or to what degree this more general awakening shall take place, but he does state unequivocally that the new word shall blossom forth indestructibly--"untilgbar ist das wort das bluht" (Ibid. , 387).

And he further commands that the seals of their (George-Kreis) lips be broken in order that the redeeming runes may be revealed to those that hunger:

Brich nun unsrer lippe siegel Sag dass wir die rune losen Vor dem volk das hungernd ruft . . (Ibid. , 388) 113

Great power is needed for such a task and that power

shall be engendered within the bonds of the circle:

So weit eroffne sich geheime kunde Dass vollzahl mehr gilt als der teile tucht Dass neues wesen vorbricht durch die runde Und steigert jeden einzelgliedes wucht: Aus diesem liebesring dem nichts entfalle Holt kraft sich jeder neue Tempeleis Und seine eigne - grossre - schiesst in alle Und flutet wieder riickwarts in den kreis. (Ibid. , 389)

It is a holy call which has led George through holy fields

(Ibid. , 391), the battle has been fought, the field is won (Ibid. ,

393), the victory celebrated. Now the poet seeks to close the

spiritual circle round his followers--his "neuer kreis" (Ibid.,

392), in order that they may be inspired to venture forth from

the inner room, that cell which holds the nucleus of their power-- for before them lies "das weite land" (Ibid. , 393), which has need of many such power-cells of Beauty. Their ways will divide, but they move out with a common purpose--to testify to the world

of the "schone leben. " George's battle (Ibid. , 356) will doubt

less be fought again and again by those who go out, but each

victory will be another link in the chain of spiritual awareness

that holds the only hope for the future.

A holy paean rises--the realization of an eternal spring,

one that shall never die, but continue to live on for those who

awaken to its call: 114

Gottes pfad ist uns geweitet Gottes land ist uns bestimmt Gottes krieg ist uns entzundet Gottes kranz ist uns erkannt. Gottes ruh in unsren herzen Gottes kraft in unsrer brust Gottes zorn auf unsren stirnen Gottes brunst auf unsrem mund. Gottes band hat uns umschlossen Gottes blitz hat uns durchgluht Gottes heil ist uns ergossen Gottes gluck ist uns erbliiht. (Ibid. , 394)

Kingdom of the Spirit

"Das Neue Reich" (Ibid. , 397-469)--the fruit of the

Eternal Spring--is founded; but George is persuaded that this kingdom can only come to those who stand apart from the venal mob (Ibid. , 418) and even in a mournful age hearken only to the

call of Beauty. In just such needy times it is the poet who is

desperately needed to stir the holy flame, keeping aglow the last vestiges of Divinity in an otherwise hopeless void:

Der Sanger aber sorgt in trauer-lauften Dass nicht das mark verfault. der keim erstickt. Er schiirt die heilige glut die iiber-springt Und sich die leiber formt . . . (Ibid.)

In such times of chaos the poet shall lead his faithful to the work of the awaking day--the "planting" of a spiritual kingdom which shall flourish forever in the eternal spring of Beauty:

Er fiihrt durch sturm und grausige signale Des friihrots seiner treuen schar zum werk Des wachen tags und pflanzt das Neue Reich. (Ibid.) 115

Realizing that the most profound of rites calls for renewal which thus lends permanence to the fleeting moment, George prays that he may continually probe the sombre fountain depths in order to find the Divine Image anew and draw it upward:

Ich muss mich neigen uberm dunklen brunnen, Die form aus seinen tiefen wieder suchen - Anders und immer Du - und aufwarts holen . . Die reichste feier will verjungt sich sehen Der fluchtigen von heut entnimmt sie dauer . . (Ibid. , 422)

One is reminded of a like symbol of Divinity which led Faust upward and on:

Alles Vergangliche Ist nur ein Gleichnis; Das Unzulangliche, Hier wird's Ereignis; Das Unbeschreibliche, Hier ist's getan; Das Ewig-Weibliche Zieht uns hinan. *

For George--Maximin has become the "Ewig-Schones, " symbolic of all that is touched by the hand of the gods; and, as the poet continues to probe the dark waters, a new image of light does appear, an image that is "other, yet always you"-- an image like unto the Beauty of Maximin:

* Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Samtliche Werke ("Jubilaumsausgabe" ; Stuttgart: Cotta Verlag, 1902-07), XIV, 286. 116

Du schlank und rein wie eine flamme Du wie der morgen zart und licht Du bliihend reis vom edlen stamme Du wie ein quell geheim und schlicht

Begleitest mich auf sonnigen matten Umschauerst mich im abendrauch Erleuchtest meinen weg im schatten Du kuhler wind du heisser hauch

Du bist mein wunsch und mein gedanke Ich atme dich mit jeder luft Ich schliirfe dich mit jedem tranke Ich kusse dich mit jedem duft

Du bluhend reis vom edlen stamme Du wie ein quell geheim und schlicht Du schlank und rein wie eine flamme Du wie der morgen zart und licht. (Ibid. , 469) PA RT in. HUGO VON HOFMANNSTHAL XIII. EARLY PERIOD

The poet, said Hugo von Hofmannsthal, is the "lautlose

Bruder aller Dinge" (V, Pt. 2, 244). He is such an integral part of all things that even their changing colors bring anguish deep within his soul, for "er leidet an alien Dingen" (Ibid.).

Yet, because he shares their sorrow, he also may share their joy. This "Leidend-genie s sen" (Ibid.) is his very life.

The sacred trust of the poet embraces the individual as well as the whole, the high as well as the low, the sublime as well as the common. And not only does he concern himself with things, but also with thoughts, with human beings, and with dreams,

"denn ihm sind Menschen und Dinge und Gedanken und Traume vollig eins" (Ibid.). * He is not permitted to close his eyes to 2 anything, "es ist, als hatten seine Augen keine Lider. " (Ibid.)

Nevertheless, in the face of all that calls to him from the reality of his present life, he still perceives "in dem Poren seines

^Cf. "Und drei sind Eins: ein Mensch, ein Ding, ein T rau m . " (I, 18).

2Cf. "Ganz vergessener Volker Mudigkeiten Kann ich nicht abtun von meinen Lidern. " (Ibid. , 19).

118 119

Deibes" (Ibid. , 245) long-forgotten times and peoples, and he ever holds communion with the living fire of the stars. * All of this is but to say that the sole law under which the poet stands is this: "Keinen Ding den Eintritt in seine Seele zu wehren. " (Ibid.)

Hofmannsthal voiced these significant ideas concerning his own role as a poet in a 1907 essay "Der Dichter und diese Zeit"

(Ibid., 229-58), reiterating what he had propounded in his

"Gesprach liber Gedichte" (Ibid. , 80-96) in 1903. In this earlier writing he had warned against the poet's withdrawal from society and admonished: "Wollen wir uns finden, so diirfen wir nicht in unser Inneres hinabsteigen: draussen sind wir zu finden, draussen. " (Ibid. , 82-83) Outside--in the world of reality-- lies the true realm of the poet who would "find himself" and 2 thereby be able to synthesize the "Inhalt der Zeit. " From the hands of the poet should be shaped a vessel that breathes of life and death, longing and fulfillment, blooming and decay, a here and now, and yet, "ein ungeheures Jenseits" (Ibid. , 94).

*Cf. "Ein Traum von grosser Magie" (Ibid., 20-21).

^Cf. "Der Dichter und diese Zeit" (V, Pt. 2, 257-58). 3 This idea of an "ungeheures Jenseits" as the inevitable completion of "Diesseits" is an important theme of both "Jedermann" and "Das Salzburger grosse Welttheater" (HI, Pt. 3, 7-93, 251-335). 120

Thus one sees that Hofmannsthal envisions a consummate work of art as being correlated creatively to its maker, who con siders the world of reality his most precious inheritance.

Hofmannsthal's sureness of purpose and firmness of con viction at this point in his life should not be allowed to obscure the long road he has already traveled in order that he might stand on solid ground in 1907, nor should the resoluteness of his words cause one to accept them without giving careful attention to the poet's future creative work, in order that a judgment might be made as to how valid these pronouncements prove to be when the voices of the "created" instead of the "creator" make them selves heard.

Aesthetic Impressionism

While still a gymnasium student Hofmannsthal had enthusi astically embraced the ideas of the Viennese "Moderne, " a literary circle associated with Hermann Bahr; and, in 1890 a sonnet written by the sixteen-year-old poet (pseudonym: Loris

Melnikow) appeared in the Wiener Zeitschrift. In his "Studien zur Kritik der Moderne" (1894), Bahr confessed that upon first reading the poetry of this unknown "Loris, "--"meine Seele 121 blinzelte vor unvermutetem Licht. And, to be sure, the brightness of the young lyrist's genius had already made him the

"Gotterliebling" of the literary salons and coffee houses of his native Vienna.

Most of these early poems reflect the spirit of the times, a spirit of aestheticism and decadence that revelled in thoughts of beauty and longing (I, 13); melancholy (Ibid. , 8-9) and transito riness (Ibid. , 17-18); promise and helplessness (Ibid. , 11); 2 beauty and death (Ibid. , 57-64). The impressionable young

Hofmannsthal was seeing the world, which he defined as "ein ewiges Gedicht" (Ibid. , 467), through the eyes of such writers as Schnitzler and Beer-Hofmann.

Before meeting the timid boy-poet, Bahr had envisioned him as a forty-or fifty-year-old man, "in der Reife des

Geistes, " --otherwise, says Bahr, his poetry could not have demonstrated such peace of renunciation, such a distancing of the things no longer desired. What Bahr and many others did not discern were the undertones of an awaking awareness of the

* Citing Soergel and Hohoff, op. cit., I, 461.

2 Cf. the "Tristan" theme of Platen and Thomas Mann. 3 Citing Soergel and Hohoff, loc. cit. 122

world which lay beyond the fleeting impressions of beauty

crowding in upon the mind of the poet--a world in which many

"down below" must perish, the many who ply the heavy oars

and never know the flight of birds nor the starry realms of those

whose appointed place is with the sibyls. But Hofmannsthal

realized that a shadow from these "other lives" falls across

the happier ones, and that he, the poet, would vainly try to lib

erate his eyelids from the weariness of forgotten peoples. For,

he concludes:

Viele Geschicke weben neben dem meinen, Durcheinander spielt sie alle das Dasein, Und mein Teil ist mehr als dieses Lebens Schlanke Flamme oder schmale Leier. (Ibid. , 19)

In these early verses, written in such exquisitely beautiful

language, Hofmannsthal was silently weeping for life (Ibid. , 8-9)*

--a life of service (Ibid. , 27)--conjecturing that a quest of super ficial beauty was fruitless (Ibid. , 13) in a world where

Kinder wachsen auf mit tiefen Augen Die von nichts wissen, wachsen auf und sterben, Und alle Menschen gehen ihre Wege. (Ibid. ,16)

Even at this early stage of his poetic career, the poet feels

very deeply the "Zusammenhang" of all times, all places, and

all things. To the young lyrist this understanding comes only in

1 Later this silent weeping turns to bitter wailing in "Der Tor und der Tod" (I, 199-220). 123

a dream-like intimation of what life really is, but later he picks up the threads of this vision one by one and weaves them into a mature appreciation and revelation of the complete life, which

takes into account both the reality of the moment and of eternity.

In the highly significant document, "Ad me ipsum,

Hofmannsthal designates this early period of lyrics and lyrical

dramas as his "Praexistenz" (VI, 213), a time in which he

moved about within the egocentric circle of his "Ich-Welt, "

having no real contact with the world of social existence, but a

time of insights far beyond his range of normal experience, when

by intuition he laid hold of the harmonies of the universe:

"Als junger Mensch sah ich die Einheit der Welt. . . . Spater war es das Einzelne und die hinter der schonen Einheit wirksamen Krafte, das ich darzustellen mich gedrungen fuhlte, aber von dem Gefuhl der Einheit liess ich nie ab. " (Ibid. , 234)

* Hofmannsthal clarifies and places in perspective much of his work in "Ad me ipsum, " a fact recognized by recent scholar ship. This "Spiralgang" of his development reveals the "formidable Einheit des Werkes" (Vi, 237)--a unity which he considered highly significant. A few critics designate much of "Ad me ipsum" as "Dichtung" ; however, this is hardly con ceivable in the light of its form, which is certainly not poetic in any sense of the word. The document consists of notations, outlines, and "Schlusselworte, " written originally for a few friends and later published in no precise order. Yet, in spite of the uniqueness of its nature, one who is familiar with the life and works of Hofmannsthal can follow the line of thought quite readily (Ibid. , 211-44). 124

It was during these early years that Hofmannsthal had been drawn into association with Stefan George in their joint efforts, along with Rainer Maria Rilke, in the publishing of Blatter fur die Kunst, * the first five volumes of which contained some of the most beautiful of Hofmannsthal's lyrics and also his verse drama

"Der Tod des Tizian" (I, 181-98). This drama is a glowing panegyric of Renaissance art and a glorification of the artist who lives only for the sake of that which he creates. Around him are gathered only those who appreciate his work--those who desire to serve and honor him. One may certainly see a direct analogy between Titian and George, and one may conjecture just how near

Hofmannsthal came to being another of the "George-Kreis. "

The following lines from "Tod des Tizian" reflect quite clearly the developing attitudes of George:

Siehst du die Stadt, wie jetzt sie drunten ruht? Gehullt in Duft und goldne Abendglut Und rosig helles Gelb und helles Grau, Zu ihren Fussen schwarzer Schatten Blau, In Schonheit lockend, feuchtverklarter Reinheit? Allein in diesem Duft, dem ahnungsvollen, Da wohnt die Hasslichkeit und die Gemeinheit, Und bei den Tieren wohnen dort die Tollen; Und was die Ferne weise dir verhullt, 1st ekelhaft und trub und schal erfullt Von Wesen, die die Schonheit nicht erkennen Und ihre Welt mit unsren Worten nennen. (Ibid. , 190)

^The avowed purpose of this literary journal was to combat the unmitigated realism of such Naturalists as Sudermann and to uphold the ideal of "art for art's sake. " 125

But Hofmannsthal could not forget the world of ugliness and moral blight, the world of men, by Beauty quite unstirred; and he had begun to wonder whether his task lay not in descending into this world to live and write and to offer his creative gifts to his

"Bruder-Mensch. " He came to despise the mantle of the prophet, proffered to him so enticingly by his admirers. Rather, he came to rejoice over what he termed the immeasurable fortune of being a human being, * and some of the characters of his early lyrical dramas came to reveal the futility and danger of a life devoted exclusively to the cultivation of the beautiful, a life in which one never comes face to face with harsh reality.

Lyrical Dramas

"Gestern" (Ibid. , 139-80) was the earliest writing that

Hofmannsthal included in his collected works. In this little verse drama he introduces for the first time his most typical type of character, a rich young man greatly blessed with physical beauty, standing on the threshold of life--a life, the depth and breadth of which he never comes to know, for his "life" is a realm in which nothing other than his own being is m irrored. Surrounded by friends who cater to his.every desire, Andrea knows nothing but

^■Citing Richard Alewyn, Uber Hugo von Hofmannsthal (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1958), p. 34. 126

"der freien Triebe freies Spiel" (Ibid. , 155). Those about him. have no identity of their own: "Ihr Wesen ist nur ein Schein, Ich lebe, der sie brauche, ich allein. " (Ibid. , 147) He is not even able to recognize his beloved Arlette as a person. To him,

"Thou" is but another "I"; the "I" is everything; the moment is everything--until he comes painfully to realize, through the un faithfulness of Arlette, that

Dies Gestern ist so eins mit Deinem Sein, Du kannst es nicht verwischen, nicht vergessen: Es ist, so lang wir wissen, dass es war.

Was einmal war, das lebt auch ewig fort. (Ibid. , 179)

In the third^ verse drama, "Der Tor und der Tod" (Ibid. ,

199-220), the fool Claudio also realizes how empty his yester days have really been:

Es scheint mein ganzes so versaumtes Leben Veriorne Lust und nie geweinte Tranen Um diese Gassen, dieses Haus zu weben Und ewig sinnlos Suchen, wirres Sehnen. (Ibid. , 201)

In the face of death, his anguished cry rings out: "Ich habe nicht gelebt! " (Ibid. , 210) He has n ev er been w illing to drink of the fulness of life and love, nor to walk the streets of despair:

*The following list indicates the chronology of the verse dramas: "Gestern" (1891); "Der Tod des Tizian" (1892); "Der Tor und der Tod" (1893); "Das Bergwerk von Falun" (1893). 127

Ich hab von alien lieben Lippen Den wahren Trank des Lebens nie gesogen, Bin nie von wahrem Schmerz durchschuttert, Die Strasse einsam, schluchzend, nie! gezogen. (Ibid. , 201)

And thus when Death appears, Claudio realizes that this "grosser

Gott der Seele" (Ibid., 209) could have become "Wirklichkeit" in life, had he been sought and wrestled with as Jacob wrestled with the Angel:

Bin nie auf meinem Weg dem Gott begegnet, Mit dem man ringt, bis dass er einen segnet. (Ibid. , 210)

In tnis play, Hofmannsthal not only assumes the mask of the

"Angeklagten, 11 but also that of the "Anklager" and one is reminded of a like objectivity in Der Ackermann aus Bohmen.

Even more important, however, Hofmannsthal here assumes the dual role of "Dichter-Richter. " "Der Tor und der Tod" is a strong condemnation of "das schone Leben. " The poet is saying that if Claudio had understood life he would have understood death.

Death is his first taste of reality, and the light of this reality illuminates his understanding of the life he has failed to live. The poet says that herein lies Claudio's salvation: "Dass der Tod das erste wahrhaftige Ding ist, das ihm begegnet, das erste Ding, dessen tiefe Wahrhaftigkeit er zu fassen imstande ist. Ein Ende 128 aller Lugen, Relativitaten und Gaukelspiele. Da von strahlt dann auf alles andere Verklarung aus.

A fairy-tale, "Das Marchen der 672. Nacht" (II, 7-28), written in 1895, some two years after "Der Tor und der Tod, " presents the story of a young man, who--like Claudio--possesses everything that his heart desires, but who closes his mind to any deeper meaning behind the surface beauty of "das schone Leben. "

He even turns his back on the first salient opportunity he has to reach out in love and concern to a little servant girl. Finally, possessed by an inner compulsion that literally drives him out into a section of the city that reeks with poverty and dirt, he still seeks to meet human needs with anything other than a part of him

self. Time after time when he is brought close to a piece of this miserable humanity, "er wollte eine Goldmunze suchen, denn er hatte deren sieben oder acht fur die Reise eingesteckt. " (Ibid. ,

26) And still concerned only with material things, while bending down to pick up a piece of jewelry which had slipped from his pocket, he is trodden under foot by a horse. Carried to a

"niedriges eisernes Bett" (Ibid. , 27) in an unfamiliar, dark, and odorous room, he curses the humanity upon whom he places the blame for his miserable condition. Unlike Claudio, this young

* Citing Alewyn, op. cit. , p. 74. 129 aesthete spurned even this last chance of abdicating his "Ich-

Welt" and reaching out in heartfelt pity to his fellow man. As he lies dying, it is not the hateful death as much as the "schone

Leben" that he questions: "Er hasste seinen vorzeitigen Tod so sehr, dass er sein Leben hasste, weil es ihn dahin gefiihrt hatte. "

(Ibid. , 28)

Hofmannsthal is becoming increasingly concerned with those who stand above the crowd, never giving nor receiving any bene fits from having been born into this world of men. He is con cerned with those who, even when they suddenly have a chance of

"finding themselves" in the midst of a chaotic world, choose rather to remain strangers both to themselves and to reality.

The young poet had found a solution which he was to put to the test in many of his future works--the one who would "find himself" must be willing to submit himself to the magic of love--"Magie:

Fahigkeit, . . . das Chaos durch Liebe zu beleben". *

The fourth lyric drama (the first act of which was published during Hofmannsthal's early period) which might contribute to an understanding of the poet's ideas concerning his own "call" is

"Das Bergwerk von Falun" (I, 319-64). The story had previously been treated by both J. P. Hebei and E. T. A. Hoffmann;

*Ibid. , p. 148. 130

Hofmannsthal's version is unlike that of Hebei, but has much in common with E. T. A. Hoffmann's. It is the story of a young man who is enticed by the beautiful Queen of the Mountain into the depths of her underground kingdom. Still haunted by dreams of the world of reality, he returns to find a place in this real world waiting for him--friends, a home, and the girl who loves him.

However, he turns his back on all this in order to descend for ever into the realm of pure beauty. Hofmannsthal is saying that if the poet wants to dedicate himself to the exclusive cultivation of Beauty in his poetry, then he cannot be a part of life and love and reality. He may be able to produce shining works of art, for

Elis' beloved Anna says: "Er funkelt wie ein Licht" (Ibid. , 464), but there is no warmth in this light, not even enough love in his last embrace to warm the heart of Anna:

Ein Premder wars, die Scham trieb mir das Blut Empor, da wurde m ir das Herz ganz kalt, Die Hande kalt wie Stein. Nun klopf ich an-- Die Tur ist auch von Stein und er steht drinnen Im Finstern. . . . (Ibid.)

But although Hofmannsthal recognizes that some great artists choose to dedicate their lives and their creative energies to "das schone Leben, " he does not believe that such artists have realized their full potential* as he comes to understand the

llbid. , p. 150. 131

call of the poet; for the m aster whom they serve demands their

complete renunciation of the vibrant, pulsing world of "Wirk-

lichkeit, M and the only world they are to know is the one which

they will create for themselves. The picture Hofmannsthal paints of this George-type of poet is a picture cast in dark hues:

Jetzt steht die Tur von deiner Kammer offen: Da wirst du leben drin und deine Tage, Die werden kommen und voruberrinnen So wie der Brunnen draussen, hor nur, hor. Und Nachte auch, erst solche wie bisher, Dann eine, wo du liegst und gliihst im Dunkeln, Weil der im Dunkeln steht, dem du gehorst . . . Doch vorher noch so viel: des Kuckucks Ruf Wird durch den Abend dringen, weit herab, Weit hin, nur nicht hinunter, Sturme werden Am Fenster riitteln, sanfte Regenbogen Aufsteigen aus den Schluchten, immer wirst du Die Glocken lauten horen. . . . (Ibid. , 397)

In "Ad me ipsum" Hofmannsthal likens the world of the mountain queen in "Das Bergwerk von Falun" to the "Reich der

Worte" (VI, 241), a realm whose magic charm exerts a powerful

influence on the naive poet, tempting him "der Zeit zu entfliehen

• • in das Uberzeitliche" (Ibid.). George's cult of the word is here most assuredly brought into question, and even as early as 1896,

Hofmannsthal had written to George of his doubts as to whether he (Hofmannsthal) had any right whatsoever to allow words which

should denote values and judgments to pass from his lips. XIX. MIDDLE PERIOD

Poetic Crisis

The poetic crisis for Hofmannsthal came about the turn of the century. In "Ein Brief" (V, Pt. 2, 7-20), an imaginary letter from Lord Chandos--the younger son of the Earl of Bath-- to Lord Bacon, the young nobleman explains his reasons for abandoning his literary pursuits. He has come to doubt the ade quacy of language to convey real meaning and has hence condemned himself to complete silence. Hofmannsthal was too deeply aware of his poetic call to follow the example of Lord Chandos. * To the contrary, this work proved to mark the major turning point in the poet's outlook and creative development. He had come to doubt the efficacy of beautiful words written only for the sake of beautiful words in the same way he had come to reject the role of the poet who cultivated "art for art's sake. " The bitter struggle between the "temple" and the "street, " rumblings of which had been heard in Hofmannsthal's earliest creative work, had now broken out into the open, and it is the poet-victorious who meets and conquers his enemy in "Der Brief des Lord Chandos. "

•^Cf. Goethe's writing of "Werther. "

132 133

Almost twenty years later Hofmannsthal recast these basic ideas into a comedy, MDer Schwierige" (IV, Pt. 2, 145-314).

The difficulty of "the difficult man" was the difficulty of com munication--the realization that mere words conceal more of the

true meaning of reality than they are able to uncover. But in this

"John Alden-Priscilla" plot, the hero Hans Karl is able to break through the "meaning barrier" of words and win the beautiful

Helene. Encouraged by this successful venture, he finally decides that "Schweigen" and "Nichthandeln"^ might often speak louder than words, and therefore'words and actions should not be abandoned as worthless. There may be a parallel between the decay of society and the decay of language as a means of valid communication, and in this connection Soergel-Hohoff comments:

"Die Gesellschaft des 'Schwierigen' ist . . . Bild jeder

Gesellschaft zu jeder Zeit, wo der einzelne, der wesentliche

Mensch das Du erst finden kann, wenn er sich und jenes Du aus der Gesellschaft gelost hat, wenn die sprachliche Konvention gebrochen wird. Das geschieht im 'Schwierigen1, wenn Helene dem Helden ihre Liebe zogernd, in gebrochenen Worten,

1 ' * Cf. "Osterreich im Spiegel seiner Dichtung" (V, Pt. 3, 342-43). 134 wechselnd zwischen dem Sie und Du der Anrede, gesteht. m1 Thus the hope of re-establishing valid bases for our whole culture might lie in the individual's being able to break through the sham and pretense of conventional speech in order to re-establish the

validity of "words" by drawing nigh to the "Bruder-Mensch" who, like himself, needs to be redeemed out of the mass of the

collective.

Hofmannsthal's early interest in his "Bruder-Mensch" was shown in his turning away from any role as "Dichter der

Schonheit" and his resolving during the critical "Lord Chandos period" that language for the true poet can be more meaningful

than the "sounding brass and tinkling cymbal" of the aesthete.

He had hoped that out of his new state of mind new lyrics might

emerge, equally pure and strong, but quite different from the

early ones; but, in his searching he found a new form of art which proved to be more responsive to his needs and through which he

could more easily express his poetic call.

The contemporary literary world had said that Hofmannsthal had lost his inspiration; they lamented that the early blossoming

of his genius had now fallen away; and, he was to find out that the

"Ruhm" of his youth would continue for sometime to cast a

^■Soergel and Hohoff, op. cit. , I, 488. 135 shadow across his following years of literary activity. Strangely enough, he no longer seemed interested in the plaudits of his fellow poets if they were to be won at the expense of being untrue to what he considered to be his true task. If this chosen "road among men" was the way of anonymity*- then he was ready to accept this condition. Years later Hofmannsthal was able to speak of the self-reliance of the artist, which allows him the advantage to choose between simply being bound to the times or being free to follow his own "geistigen Umgang" (VI, 235).

The course which he did choose at the turn of the century was one in which he would never again consider donning the robes of an infallible "Dichter-Konig. " What he desired most was to be capable of flexibility in meeting what he considered the opportunities of his high calling in a world full of challenge and change, foreshadowing his own definition of the poet in "Ad me ip su m " :

. . . Er ruhrt an die grossten Dinge und sie besitzen ihn nicht. Er hat in einem Augenblick das Weltall zu Gebot, im anderen fast nichts. Er scheint Menschen zu verstehen --aber er muss sich gestehen, dass er sie fast nicht versteht. Er ist unerfahrener als seine Kinder--seine Dialektik ist nichts wert. Entwickelt er sich? kaum. Seine Eitelkeit ist nicht sehr gross--aber seine Empfindlichkeit desto grosser. Er ist da und nicht

*Cf. "Der Dichter und diese Zeit" (V, Pt. 2, 242-43). 136

da. Er ist ein Dichter. [italics mine.] Ferner: er furchtet den Tod nicht, eher das Leben. - -Er gleicht dem Zerstreuten der abends in sein Haus kommt es nicht erkennt: verhalt er sich so zur Epoche? Er kommt im Maskenkleid zu einem Begrabnis. (Ibid. , 235-36)

Wirklichkeit

Hofmannsthal chose to pursue what he considered to be the higher values of the world of reality, acting upon his belief that it would be possible for the poet to hear and answer his call only if he "lived and moved and has his being" among his fellow men.

In 1900 he m arried and settled in Rodaun, a suburb of Vienna, which was to be his home for the remainder of his life; and, that same year marks the beginning of his collaboration with the pro ducer Max Reinhardt and the composer Richard Strauss. The turn of the century also saw the publication of Freud's

"Traumdeutung" (1900) and "Uber den Traum" (1901), which were to have a decided effect on the poet's character portrayals in his Greek dramas. In these plays Hofmannsthal used the classical form and language, but the action of the characters was deeply embedded in modern pychological motivations.

In "Elektra" (HI, Pt. 2, 7-75) all the interest is concen trated on her. (She never leaves the stage.) This ragged figure of a woman lusting for the blood of her father's slayer, her whole 137 existence weighted down, and any chances of happiness engulfed by the enormity of her desire for vengeance, is unforgettable.

• • The Greek conception of the fate tragedy in "Odipus und die Sphinx" (Ibid., 271-417) is varied by Hofmannsthal. By

• • giving Odipus foreknowledge of what is to happen, a completely different light is cast on the whole action. Essentially what the poet does in these Greek dramas is to take over settings and basic plots from their classical counterparts; and then by inserting at least one significant motivation variable into his play and unmerci fully laying bare the psychological make-up of his characters, he is able to transform a classic drama into a modern and more uni versally valid play. This is not to say that these same passions, which Hofmannsthal defined so clearly, are the exclusive posses sion of the modern world, but rather that he was creatively responsive to the awaking interest in human psychology, which interest was so characteristic of the age in which he lived. This new century was a time in which the agelong bases for human behavior were being sought-out, recognized, and approached scientifically by such men as Freud and considered important by such poets as Hofmannsthal.

Hofmannsthal was not only interested in human behavior as such, but he became increasingly concerned that he might help to 138

direct some of this behavior into channels of deeper spiritual

significance. It was in the theatre that he recognized an oppor

tunity to create for his works a larger audience--an audience

which, in the atmosphere of the theatre, would be more respon

sive to the symbolic content of his plays. The poet believed that

only that which transcended the action on stage could possibly be

the medium for the transmission of ideas which are of universal

significance in individual destiny. In this way, "art" would

become the means by which many individuals could recover their

spiritual balance. The theatre audience could be reached through

the emotions, through the heart; and Hofmannsthal had already

proclaimed in the Lord Chandos letter that were we but willing

to think with our hearts we might be able to enter into a new,

clear-sighted relation to our existence. Believing that all this

could best be accomplished by the union of poetry and music,

the poet collaborated with Strauss in the writing of six operas,

once telling his friend Brecht that in opera he could immediately

present the significant, the essence, through a purely emotional,

more profound means than in any other medium. What

Hofmannsthal was to discover was that in order to accomplish

this purpose he first must convey clearly to the composer the meaning which he hoped to convey to the audience, for the 139

"essence" of the meaning and the "emotion" of the music must be in complete harmony, lest the meaning be lost.

Das Soziale

Hofmannsthal's endeavor in the field of comedy proved to be a sphere in which he once more moved ahead to fulfill his destiny as a poet of the people. In these plays he descends into the world of simple things and simple speech, the realm of common experience. And rather than following the rather unre alistic German dramatic tradition ("klassischen, protestantisch- schillerischen Dramaturgie")* of separating the ethical from the world of reality, Hofmannsthal becomes heir to the Austrian tradition in which the noble and the common, the serious and the witty, the most sublimely spiritual and the most sensuously earthy are united. The atmosphere thus engendered seems closer to the world of actuality--the everyday interplay between mem bers of the society of which one is a part. The individual's being recognized as an integral part of the whole was of prime impor tance to Hofmannsthal, who stated .hat the purpose of true comedy is that the individual be freed from isolation, that the "Du neigt sich zum Du, "--and this principle he called the "Soziale, "

^AJLewyn, op. cit. , p. 80. 140

concluding that it could best be exemplified in and through

comedy. In fact, in "Ad me ipsum, " he speaks of "das

erreichte Soziale: die Komodien" (VI, 226).

The characters of the comedies are no longer mouthpieces

of the poet, but they seem to move of their own accord and live

their own lives. Hofmannsthal once commented that the greatest

gift in dramatic creation is to feel the situation grow out of the

very heart of the characters. All of them step "aus dem

Leben, " and the language they speak reflects their various

stations in life and their varying personalities. * However, the

genius of Hofmannsthal is able to mold these various dialects

and idioms into a "Kunstsprache" which rises above the mere presentation of raw reality adhered to so meticulously by the

Naturalists.

Concerning "Der Rosenkavalier" Hofmannsthal once wrote to Strauss that the actual creative work of the poet consists in finding for each individual character a distinct diction, a

definite style of his own; for by the manner of speaking, the

change of tone, and the rise and fall of the voice of his characters,

the poet can establish characteristic living figures and thus

1 Hofmannsthal's use of dialect is not restricted to the comedies--e. g. the Austrian dialect is used in "Das Salzburger grosse Welttheater. " 141 convey their social relationships. And; he goes on to say, even that indefinable something which is implied between the characters can hardly be expressed in any more direct form.

"Der Rosenkavalier, " with its mixture of Viennese dialect,

"Adelsjargon, " and "Rokokogrammatik" (Variation of which speech is used later in "Der Schwierige" and "Arabella"), also seems best to exemplify the fact that in these comedies the poet truly stands free above his creation, not even interceding to moralize as he did in earlier writings, such as "Der Tor und der Tod. " The Greek dramas, although moving a step closer to

"Wirklichkeit" by their lack of didacticism and by their character motivations, had retained a lyrical language--one of great beauty but not of great validity.

Auiother direct means of presenting reality was

Hofmannsthal’s choice of the "Abenteuer" type--this adventurer who lives so "intensively, " crowding into each moment expe riences that the average man encounters perhaps in a lifetime and, at the same time, this one who lives so "extensively" that his one life embodies much of the "Mannigfaltigkeit des JLebens. "

The fact that the "Abenteuer" is a creation of concentrated reality, moving in a realm apart from the moralizing atmosphere of Hofmannsthal’s earlier works, does not mean that the poet who 142

condemned Andrea and Claudio has now come to withhold any judgment of one like Florindo (IV, Pt. 1, 79-260). To be sure,

Hofmannsthal does not condemn Florindo--Florindo condemns himself, and it is the "Kapitan" who upholds the true "Soziale, "

in that he is responsive to those he loves.

It is as though the reader and the poet were both observing a

"piece of life" in which the actions and comments of the characters

left little doubt as to their true relationship to "das Soziale. "

These actions also reveal each character's relationship to that

higher order which Hofmannsthal was now ready to approach--

that Christian order, which would lend deeper meaning to the

principle of "das Soziale. " In this order not only would the

"Du neigt sich zum Du, " but all those who were such a vital part

of this interplay of society should, the poet believed, come to

recognize that their responsibilities to each other could only be fulfilled completely as they recognized their responsibilities to

God. Only those who are attuned to the values of this higher

order can respond to the needs of society, and these needs can

only be met as men are morally responsive to such genuine

values of existence as: "Liebe, " "Ehe, " "Gesellschaft, " "die

Tat," "das Kind, " and "das Werk" (VI, 211-244). The life

that is wasted stands outside the realm of true reality as surely 143 as does the life that has never been lived. Thus Hofmannsthal's

"Lebensklinstler,r is but a brother of Hofmannsthal's "Lebens- dilettant, " (as the poet once designated Claudio). *

Living in a world of reality has made it possible for

Florindo at least to recognize that there is more to life than he has experienced. As this Venetian adventurer speaks, one can see that he is not completely unaware of those values which transcend the life he has lived:

Zeigt m ir einen Mann und eine Frau, die einander wert sind: wie sie zusammengekommen sind, danach will ich nicht fragen. Aber dass sie beieinander zu bleiben verm*ogen, das ist wundervoll. Das geht liber die gemeinen Krafte. Das ist ein Mysterium--kaum zu fas sen ist es. --Und darum bitte ich mit Respeckt aus davor, so wie ich ihn selber im Leibe habe. " (IV, Pt. 1, 429)

Richard Alewyn comments concerning the meaning of

"Christinas Heimreise" : "Uber dem bloss vitalen Leben erhebt sich das sittliche Leben, und aus beiden zusammen erst bildet sich die Wirklichkeit. 11 2 This idea certainly finds consummate realization in Hofmannsthal's fragmentary novel "Andreas, oder die Vereinigten" (II, 113-247).

The use of the word "Vereinigten" involves much more than is apparent on the surface. This one concept of

* Alewyn, op. cit., p. 99.

^Ibid. , p. 100. 144

"Vereinigten-Ganze-Einheit" probably best embodies

Hofmannsthal's entire poetic philosophy; his own life enveloping both "Praexistenz" and "Existenz"; his idea of inter dependence, adumbrated in his earliest lyrics and realized in

"das Soziale"; his condemnation of both the "Lebenskunstler" and the "Lebensdilettant" ; his lifelong preoccupation with being a complete poet; and now his more concentrated interest in the individuals who compose "das Soziale "--an interest in their being complete personalities (Maria-Mariquita) and a parallel interest in the higher "Einheit" possible through a union of the characteristics of two complementary personalities (Andrea-

Sacramozo); and finally, his elevation of marriage as the most perfect example of "Vereinigung . . . korperlich, seelisch, sakramental". ^

"Andreas" is a typical "Entwicklungsroman" in that it depicts a naive young man who, after many adventures and testings, finally "comes to himself. " Hofmannsthal's young man stands, as it were, on the threshold of life. The door is still closed, but he anticipates the conditions under which it will be opened and is receptive to the intimations of an imminent

"Wirklichkeit. " This developing awareness is what makes it

^Soergel and Hohoff, op. cit. , I, 485. 145 possible for any individual to recognize the moment at which he is afforded entrance into "Existenz, " thereby becoming a part of and contributing to the great "whole" of life. This pregnant moment is a moment of reciprocal healing^ between individuals in society--a healing of disintegrated personalities and therefore a step closer to the healing of a disintegrated world. This chain of healing, later characterized in "Die Frau ohne Schatten"

(Ibid. , 254-375) as "das ewige Geheimnis der Verkettung alles

Irdischen" (Ibid. , 375), seems to contain the idea of both a gradual and a momentary transformation, the one apparently preparing the way for the other. When Andreas succeeds, through love's awareness, in integrating what is disintegrated, by recognizing behind the spirit (Maria) a body and behind the body (Mariquita) a spirit, and by feeling "das eine als Trager des anderen" (Ibid. , 227), then he enables Maria-Mariquita to accept for herself both aspects of her own personality. And to complete the "chain, " Andreas not only has contributed to the healing of a fellow human being, but in so doing he has added immeasurably to his own maturity. The happy consequence is

^•Somewhat parallel ideas are found in the Parzival- Anfortas reciprocal "healing" and in the "soul-body" healing of "Der arme Heinrich. " 146 that the "ganze M aria" is now free to be united with God and the "ganze Andreas" is now ready to be united with his beloved

R om ana. ^

^Alewyn, op. cit. , p. 132.

i XV. LATE PERIOD

From the Temple to the Street

This selfless concern for human beings, which brings about a mystical redemption of both the one who loves and the one who is loved, found most complete expression in "Die Frau ohne

Schatten" (1911-1919). * It is the story of a spirit-princess who marries an earthly king upon whom a fearful curse rests. If the new queen does not bear him a child he will be turned to stone; however, since spirits do not bear children, the Kaiserin must first become a human being. She stands between two worlds-- the demonic spirit world which ever exerts a magic charm to gain back its princess and the world of humanity, entrance into which is barred, both by the king‘s jealously-selfish love and by her own naivete. The "shadow" which she does not possess is symbolic of the humanity of which she is not a part.

Greatly desiring to obtain this "shadow" because of her great love for her husband, she renounces all of her pride and

1 Hofmannsthal wrote two versions of this story: (1) an opera in three acts (HI, Pt. 3, 148-242) and (2) a narrative (II, 254-375). For the purposes of this paper the narrative version is the main source of information.

147 goes out into the dark and dirty world of reality. Ready to assume the role of an imperfect human being, even willing to take on the form of a servant, she seeks out the most miserable example of humanity which she can find--the Farber Barak and his beautiful, but evil, wife. The Kaiserin becomes the

Farberin's servant. Every part of her spirit-being is repulsed by the bestiality of her environment, and she becomes a tacit partner to the pact with the Farberin, which her Mephistophelean

"Amme" (III, Pt. 3, 480-81) draws up--an exchange of costly jewels and clothes for the Farberin's shadow. Realizing what effect this would have on the already unhappy circumstances of the dyer and his wife, the Kaiserin reaches out in compassion to embrace these poor people, whom she now acknowledges to be but a part of suffering humanity. Falling prostrate at the dyer's feet,

"mit unsaglichen Demut, " (II, 346-47) she is able, by this act of unashamed humility, to begin a work of transformation in the hearts of these two human beings and, at the same time, within her own heart. For the first time in their m arried lives both the Farber and the Farberin forget self (Ibid. , 347), and the

"Du neigt sich zum Du, " in which moment they truly become man and wife (Ibid. ). However, this does not prove to be the one "magic moment" when all difficulties are immediately resolved.

Hofmannsthal envisions many steps leading down into the realm of true humanity. The Kaiserin had only descended a part of the long way: her first step being her initial renunciation of pride in assuming the form of a servant, then a second step--made possible when her aversion turned to pity. But now her "Mitleid" must be transformed into "Mitschuld, " for in her acquiescence to the Amme's pact--"in dies bose Spiel ist die Kaiserin verknupft, unschuldig schuldvoll" (HI, Pt. 3, 482). This acceptance of guilt is not easy, for a "Geisterbote" would fain offer his m istress the Farberin's shadow, which he feels is rightly hers. The queen, however, must be the master of her own destiny;^ and, refusing the panacea of the "magic goblet--

Farberin's shadow, " she cries out: "Dir Barak bin ich mich schuldig! " (II, 369) But her lesson in humanity is not over.

Even after this declaration of "Mitschuld, " she still feels her self being mysteriously drawn toward the glowing realm of eternal beauty from which she has come. Then suddenly, that piece of dark humanity which is closest to her heart--her husband, but yet a stony statue--demonstrates, for the first time, an

1Cf. "Selbstgefilhl" of "Ad me ip sum" (VI, 211-44). 150 unselfish love and clasps her in his cold embrace. The Faustian battle between "das sch’one Leben" and "Existenz" is finally- resolved within her breast:

Nun lag sie mit der Statue Brust an Brust, d-’e steinernen Arme schlossen sich um sie zusammen, ein Blick von nachster Nahe traf sie aus den steinernen Augen, so jammervoll, dass er ein steinernes Herz hatte erweichen konnen. Die furchtbare Last hing an ihr; sie selbst schlang die Arme um den Stein, sie umrankte ihn ganz, das Steigen horte auf, sie fuhlte sich hinabgerissen ins Bodenlose. Die glatte furchtbare fremde Natur des Steins drang ihr ins Innerste. Vor unbegreiflicher Qual zerriitteten sich ihr die Sinne. Sie fuhlte den Tod ihr eigenes Herz uberkriechen, aber zugleich die Statue in ihren Armen sich regen und lebendig werden. In einem unbegreiflichen Zustand gab sie sich selbst dahin und war zitternd nur mehr da in der Ahnung des Lebens, das der andere von ihr empfing. (Ibid. , 369-70)

The Kaiserin had taken the curse upon herself (VI, 235) and in so doing she had both redeemed the one she loved and made possible her own entrance into "his world. " As she stood over her slumbering husband,

ein unaussprechliches Entzucken durchfuhr sie aber nun und ein Schrei drang uber ihre Lippen: denn ein schwarzer Schatten floss von ihr uber den Liegenden, uber den Waldboden hin ......

Sie hob ihn zu sich auf, sie umarmten einander ohne Wort, ihre Schatten flossen in eins. (n, 370-71)

Realizing that his realm no longer holds any power over the queen, the "Geisterbote" returns to the Farberin her shadow

(Ibid. , 371), and the chain of healing is complete--"das ewige 150 unselfish love and clasps her in his cold embrace. The Faustian battle between "das sch’one Leben" and "Existenz" is finally- resolved within her breast:

Nun lag sie mit der Statue Brust an Brust, die steinernen Arme schlossen sich um sie zusammen, ein Blick von nachster N’ahe traf sie aus den steinernen Augen, so jammervoll, dass er ein steinernes Herz hatte erweichen konnen. Die furchtbare Last hing an ihr; sie selbst schlang die Arme um den Stein, sie umrankte ihn ganz, das Steigen h*orte auf, sie fuhlte sich h in a b g e risse n ins Bodenlose. Die glatte furchtbare fremde Natur des Steins drang ihr ins Innerste. Vor unbegreiflicher Qual zerrlitteten sich ihr die Sinne. Sie fuhlte den Tod ihr eigenes Herz uberkriechen, aber zugleich die Statue in ihren Armen sich regen und lebendig werden. In einem unbegreiflichen Zustand gab sie sich selbst dahin und war zitternd nur mehr da in der Ahnung des Lebens, das der andere von ihr empfing. (Ibid. , 369-70)

ein unaussprechliches Entzucken durchfuhr sie aber nun und ein Schrei drang uber ihre Lippen: denn ein schwarzer Schatten floss von ihr liber den Liegenden, liber den Waldboden hin ......

Sie hob ihn zu sich auf, sie umarmten einander ohne Wort, ihre Schatten flossen in eins. (II, 370-71)

Realizing that his realm no longer holds any power over the queen, the "Geisterbote" returns to the Farberin her shadow

(Ibid. , 371), and the chain of healing is complete--"das ewige 151

Geheimnis der Verkettung alles Irdischen" (Ibid. , 375) has trium phed.

The Christian Poet

Hofmannsthal believed that two antinomies had to be solved if life were to be meaningful-- that between loneliness and the community of men and that between passing time and permanence.

And, he adds, "ohne Glauben an die Ewigkeit ist kein wahrhaftes

Leben moglich" (VI, 228). The poet's mission, then, would seem to be twofold: to place the individual in the right perspective among his fellow men and to show the passing moment as the very stuff of eternity.

It is evident in his works that Hofmannsthal thought

Christian action based on sacrifice of self would make possible the "wahrhafte Leben. " Foreshadowed in "Die Frau ohne

Schatten, " this principle finds more profound expression in

"Das Salzburger grosse Welttheater"^ in the beggar's submission to God and in his consequent recognition that a completely "new world" must arise if man is to be more than a puppet:

Es muss fur wahr und ganz ein neuer Weltstand werden, Sonst blieb' dies gar ein armlich puppig Spiel. (Ill, Pt. 3, 313)

^Both this play and "Der Turm" are based on dramas by C alderon. 152

The human being who voices this challenging judgment of the needs of the world has come a long way from the miserable self-centered beggar he had been, when in the face of extreme adversity he had cried out: "Es hat nicht sein mussen! " (Ibid. ,

288) Now, after a Saul-like encounter with God (Ibid. , 310), old things are passed away and all things are become new. However, those around him still possess an abundance of things while he yet stands destitute of worldly possessions, and Wisdom, knowing his former bitterness over the inequality and injustice of his condition, asks him to search "die Seele in der Seele" (Ibid. ,

313):

Und kannst du deinen Brudern nun verzeihn Am schalen Erdengut ihr dumpfes Haben? (Ibid. , 311)

The beggar's reply reveals that he is no longer envious of what his brothers possess, but that he now rejoices over his own good fortune. His humble forest habitation, once despised, has become a place of happy communion with God--a place prepared

"von Ewigkeit, " where he--a guiltless child--will come to know the joy of nearness to his God:

Was weiss ich, wer ihr seid--was weiss ich, wer ich bin? Als wie von Ewigkeit Ist m ir der Wald bereit, Da ich ein schuldlos Kind Auf moosigem Stein gelegen. Dort liegen und in Lust Mich ganz zu Gott zu regen! (Ibid. , 312) 153

And Wisdom answers:

O Seele, du bist jah zum grossen Ziel gekommen, Grab dich in Waldesgrund und bluhe als ein Christ! (Ibid.)

Resurrection into this life, not simply into some future eternal life, is possible for that man who would recognize and pursue the things of the spirit.

Then, climactically, through the beggar's submissive, yet majestic confession, one hears the voice of Hofmannsthal, the

Christian poet, who recognizes, along with such great literary forebears as Dante:

Ich ward hineingestellt, Als Gegenspieler diesen zugestellt Denn dies ist Gottes Spiel, W ir h e isse n es die W elt. (Ibid. , 313)

"Das Salzburger grosse Welttheater" (HI, Pt. 3, 251-335) was the second of Hofmannsthal's contributions to the Salzburg festival, which he, in collaboration with Max Reinhardt, Richard

Strauss and others, had organized in 1920. The festival's opening production was Hofmannsthal's "Jedermann, " which, written between 1903 and 1911, shows the poet's early and con tinuing respect for the tenets of the Roman Catholic church. The simple diction of this play, admittedly influenced by Hans Sach's

"Comedi vom sterbend reichen Menschen" (Ibid. , 501), was one of Hofmannsthal's first attempts to create "etwas Populares" 154 and, at the same time, to bridge the gap between the common sphere of the popular and the less accessible realm of the spirit.

In the proclamation of the Salzburg festival, Hofmannsthal designates the works and values of art as the only lasting forces amid the constant changes of time. He had come to regard the stage as the one great secular institution that had retained the universal validity of combining art and life; and, sensing the

Austrian's natural affinity for the theater, he hoped for a renais sance of the German theater on the foundation of a living Austrian baroque tradition.

The Man of the Spirit

An examination of Hofmannsthal's posthumous papers reveals sketches, written about the same time as "Die Frau ohne Schatten, " which outline the story of a '.'Priesterzogling"

(Ibid. , 491-93). After being thoroughly trained in the sacerdotal ways of the priesthood, this pupil of the temple is commanded, for his last initiation, to go "auf die wimmelnde Strasse" (Ibid. ,

493). Doubtless both the "Priesterzogling" and the "Frau ohne Schatten" are symbols of the poet who descends "vom

Tempel zur Strasse, " as Hofmannsthal was convinced he must do, in order that he might come into immediate contact with the teeming world of reality, thereby validating his high and holy call. But of equal importance is the concomitant value of the poet's making it possible for the street to have access to the temple, for the world of reality needs the world of ideas in order to be

complete. It is the poet who spans these two worlds, being ever

cognizant of his task to unite the higher realm of the spirit from which he has come (VI, 223) and the everyday world of human affairs in which he now assumes his role as "Dichter-Diener. "

As early as 1896, in the essay "Poesie und Leben" (V,

Pt. 1, 260-68), Hofmannsthal perceived that: "das Element der

Dichtkunst ist ein Geistiges, es sind die schwebenden, die unendlich vieldeutigen, die zwischen Gott und Geschopf hangenden

Worte" (Ibid. , 266). And only the poet, attuned to this world of

the spirit, has access to the heart of life, for "was wissen die

Menschen dieser Zeit von der Innigkeit des Lebens! " (Ibid. , 267)

That which the poet creates, although born of the spirit and

suspended between heaven and earth, finds true meaning for the later Hofmannsthal only when it becomes the spiritual heritage

of the real world. The true worth and honor of language, that

tool of the poet, lies in the fact that it is concerned with the living present, "unmittelbar schreiten wir durch sie [die Sprache] in

das Volk hinein" (V, Pt. 4, 439). But this living present encom passes both the past and the future, finding consummation in the eternal, for "das Ewige bezeichnet auch das Gegenwartige, das kein Vergangenes und kein Zuklinftiges hat, und dies ist des

Ewigen Vollkommenheit" (Ibid. , 438). Thus, because the poet's medium is not confined by the finite bonds of time and space, but moves freely within the infinite regions of the spirit--for this very reason, "die Sprache" opens the door to the highest life:

"Die Sprache ist ein grosses Totenreich, unauslotbar tief; darum empfangen wir aus ihr das hochste Leben. " (Ibid. , 439)

Hence, life and death, seemingly antipodal, become a part of the great "geistige Einheit" (Ibid. , 411) of all creation, and the poet, who is heir to the things of the spirit, finds the fulfill ment of his destiny in preserving this inheritance: "Dieses

Erbe [Geisteserbe] selbst und die Berufung es zu wahren wird ihm zum dunkelsten Geschick. " (Ibid. , 404)

Still acknowledging his poetic obligation to deny nothing entrance into his soul, Hofmannsthal, in the span of two decades, has come to understand more fully this aspect of his mission.

He now acknowledges that the multitudinous impressions received within his soul must be born again in him and thus receive a new validity--"zu neuer Giiltigkeit aus ihm wiedergeboren" (Ibid. ,

403). This new validity is realizable because the poet has access to primal sources of renewal and strength. The fallen hero Sigismund in "Der Turin" (III, Pt. 4, 7-

207, 321-463) is such a "man of the spirit, M whose ideas will live on to exert their healing influence on a disintegrated society:

"Sigismund! bleibe dein Name bei uns! " (Ibid. , 208) In like manner, the poet's great work lives on and continues to impreg nate the world of ideas. PART IV. RAINER MARIA RILKE XVI. BEAUTY, CREATIVITY, AND GOD

Impressionism- -Neo-Romanticism

Mich riihrt so sehr bohmischen Volkes-Weise, schleicht sie ins Herz sich leise, m ach t sie es schw er. (S. W . , I, 39)

Rainer Maria Rilke as a student at the University of Prague in 1895-1896 envisioned himself as a true "Heimatdichter" of his native Bohemia. The old houses, the familiar streets, the towering catherals, the lovely chapels, the countryside and the people, all appear with the simplicity of the "Volkslied" on' every page of "Larenopfer " (Ibid. , 7-69). These varied sights of Prague, known to Rilke since early childhood, belonged to him through his feelings of joy and sorrow, having no independent life of their own. Rilke sees them only with his heart, for "Gott gab . . . in das Herz--die Heimatlieder11 (Ibid. , 23).

A divine command, as it were, is heard by Rilke above the applause of the crowd, drawing the "grosse Dichter" back to their own people:

Und grosse Dichter, ruhmberauschte, dem schlichten Liede lauschen sie, so glaubig wie das Volk einst lauschte dem Gotteswort des Sinai. (Ibid. , 40)

159 160

The idyllic impressionism of ''LarenopferM turns into a visionary neo-romanticism in "Traumgekront" (Ibid. , 71-98) and "Advent" (Ibid. , 98-141). The poet himself is the "dream- crowned" king of "Traumgekront, " as may be seen from the use of first-person pronouns in over seventy-five percent of the poems. And even in such a poem as "Konigslied, " the "du" and the poet are both aspects of the same personality:

Darfst das Leben mit Wurde ertragen, nur die Kleinlichen macht es klein; Bettler k'onnen dir Bruder sagen, und du kannst doch ein Konig sein.

Ob die der Stirne gottliches Schweigen auch kein rotgoldener Reif unterbrach, -- Kinder werden sich vor dir neigen, selige Schwarmer staunen dir nach.

Tage weben aus leuchtender Sonne dir deinen Purpur und Hermelin, und, in den Handen Wehmut und Wonne, liegen die N’achte vor dir auf den Knien. (Ibid. , 73)

Beggars may call the poet brother, and yet he can be a king; children bow before him, whose purple and ermine robes the days weave from the gleaming light of the sun; and the nights pay homage on bended knee.

The call of this "Poet-King" emanates from somewhere among the tranquil stars: 161

Und schlichen hoch ins Weltgetriebe sich wirklich solche Sterne ein, -- sie miissten der verborgnen Liebe und alien Dichtern heilig sein. (Ibid. , 86)

Some sixteen years later Rilke has long since discarded his kingly robes; he now doffs his shoes and hides his face, having heard a divine voice calling to him from the thornbush:

Stimme im Dornbusch. Streife, wem sie gilt, die Schuhe ab und krumme sich und schlage den ganzen Mantel vors Gesicht und sage in seinen Mantel: Herr ich bin gewillt. (Ibid. , II, 213)

Let the poet not hesitate for lack of comprehension, for the full ness of Grace has hewn out a narrow way:

Auch wer das nicht begreift, was ihn beruft, der sei bereit. Es wird ihm in das grade ungangbare Geheiss aus voller Gnade ein schmaler Pfad hineingestuft. (Ibid.)

In "Advent" Rilke adumbrates his turning away from the cult of beauty to embrace a world of reality, and he consecrates himself to the role of "suffering poet, " in order that he may

"ripen far out of life, far out of time! " :

Das ist mein Streit: Sehnsuchtgeweiht durch alle Tage schweifen. Dann, stark und breit, mit tausend Wurzelstreifen tief in das Leben greifen-- und durch das Leid weit aus dem Leben reifen, weit aus der Zeit! (Ibid. , I, 103) 162

Thus even the young Rilke seems to realize that there is more to

the poetic call than singing sweet songs in glorification of one's

own soul:

Nennt ihr das Seele, was so zage zirpt in euch? Was, wie der Klang der Narrenschellen, um Beifall bettelt und um Wiirde wirbt, und endlich arm ein armes Sterben stirbt im Weihrauchabend gotischer Kapellen,-- nennt ihr das Seele?

Schau ich die blaue Nacht, vom Mai verschneit, in der die Welten weite Wege reisen, m ir ist: ich tra'ge ein Stuck Ewigkeit in meiner Brust. Das riittelt und das schreit und will hinauf und will mit ihnen kreisen . . . Und das ist Seele. (Ibid. , 107)

The poet's own soul, that piece of eternity within his breast,

trembles and cries out in its struggle to attain a more valid

relationship with the universe.

In his next volume of verse, "Mir zur Feier" (later

revised as "Die Fruhen Gedichte, " Ibid. , 143-200), maybe heard the beginnings of Rilke's greatest poetic endeavor, to give life to "things" :

Ich furchte mich so vor der Menschen Wort Sie sprechen alles so deutlich aus: und dieses heisst Hund und jenes heisst Haus, und hier ist Beginn und das Ende ist dort.

Ich will immer warnen und wehren: Bleibt fern. Die Dinge singen hor ich so gern. Ihr rilhrt sie an: sie sind starr und stumm. Ihr bringt mir alle die Dinge um. (Ibid., 194-95) 163

How was the poet going to liberate "die Dinge, " permitting

them to unfold and sing, awakening them to new life? This could

only be accomplished by first redeeming "die armen Worte" :

Die armen Worte, die im Alltag darben, die unscheinbaren Worte, lieb ich so. Aus meinen Festen schenk ich ihnen Farben, da lacheln sie und werden langsam froh.

Ihr Wesen, das sie bang in sich bezwangen, erneut sich deutlich, dass es jeder sieht; sie sind noch niemals im Gesang gegangen, und schauernd schreiten sie in meinem Lied. (Ibid. , 148-49)

Out of the poet's festival of colors the poor starved words are

renewed; they smile for joy as they regain their being in the song of the poet.

These early poems * contain the seeds of many other typically Rilkean ideas concerning the call of the poet;

In Wahrheit: Wen die Musen lieben, dem gibt das Leben nicht zuviel.

The love of the Muse is what the poet most desires, other than this, he only wants life's necessities, not her bonds:

Ein Stubchen ......

Ein Stuhl, als Schreibtisch eine Truhe, ein Bett, ein Holzkreuz und ein Krug.

...... "Ich bleibe lieber, " hatte er gesagt, "kde domov muj. " (I, 38-39)

^The "later Rilke" rejected his earlier role as a "Dichter der Schonheit, " as having been superficial, in that it failed to give a true picture of man as he really is. 164

The poet longs most for holy solitude ("In-sich-Gehen, "

Briefe, I, 6l)--as rich and pure and infinite as an awakening garden:

Du meine heilige Einsamkeit, du bist so reich und rein und weit wie ein erwachender Garten. (S. W. , I, 103)

This is longing--to live in fluctuation, having no home in time. These are wishes--soft, lonely dialogues with eternity.

This is life--silently to hold communion with the Eternal:

Das ist die Sehnsucht: wohnen in Gewoge und keine Heimat haben in der Zeit. Und das sind Wunsche: leise Dialoge taglicher Stunden mit der Ewigkeit.

Und das ist Leben. Bis aus einem Gestern die einsamste von alien Stunden steigt, die, anders lachelnd als die andern Schwestern, dem Ewigen entgegenschweigt. (Ibid. , 145)

Do not wait, O Poet, for God to come to you, but know that already from the beginning He has been a part of your very breath:

Du darfst nicht warten, bis Gott zu dir geht und sagt: Ich bin.

Da musst du wissen, dass dich Gott durchweht seit Anbeginn. (Ibid. , 200)

Approach life as does the child, not attempting to under stand it ("du musst das Leben nicht verstehen, " Ibid., 153), nor to imprison it in your embrace, but allowing it to glide gently 165 from your hands, that new life may take its place (Ibid.). Rilke also saw God in somewhat this same light, as "der Kommende

. . . der Zukiinftige, die endliche Frucht eines Baumes, des sen

Blatter wir sind ..." (Briefe, I, 64).

Jacobsen--Niels Lyhne

In 1924, Rilke referred to Jens Peter Jacobsen as being

"der 'Jahres-Regent' meines Himmels-Erdenjahres" (Briefe, II,

438), a star of the first-magnitude which led him out of the dark ness of his youth (Ibid. , II, 438-39). Upon first reading

Jacobsen's Niels Lyhne (in 1897), Rilke doubtless felt a kinship with the would-be poet who

had advanced no further in the art of poetry than to be able to string verses together . . . [who] had been too busy adorning himself with what'he lacked to have time to observe what he already possessed, but now, with all the enthusiasm of a discoverer, he began to piece himself together from the memories and impressions of his child hood and the most vivid moments of his life. He saw with glad surprise how it all fitted together, piece by piece, uniting to form a personality that was familiar to him, al though different from the one he had pursued in his dreams --a personality that was genuine after a different fashion, and strong and capable withal. . . . *

It was thus largely through the influence of Jacobsen that

the young Rilke became a discoverer of his own creative

^•Jens Peter Jacobsen, Niels Lyhne, trans. from the Danish (New York: P. F. Collier and Son, n. d.), pp. 121-22. 166 personality (Ibid. , 460). He began to observe what he already possessed as a poet--that inner compulsion to create, which to deny would be to deny life itself (Ibid. , I, 41):

Muss ich schreiben? . . . Ich muss ......

Ein Kunstwerk ist gut, wenn es aus Notwendigkeit entstand. In dieser Art seines Ursprungs liegt sein Urteil: es gibt kein anderes. . . . in sich zu gehen und die Tiefen zu prufen, in denen Ihr Leben entspringt; an seiner Quelle werden Sie die Antwort auf die Frage finden, ob Sie schaffen mussen. (Ibid., 41-43)

Russia--Becoming

In 1899 and again in 1900, Rilke made trips to Russia, which added infinitely to his developing artistic powers. This

Russian influence is evident in the small prose volume of 1904,

"Die Geschichten vom lieben Gott" (S. W. , IV, 35-208).

Several of the stories reveal Rilke's unfolding attitude con cerning the call of the poet. In "Wie der alte Timofei singend starb" (Ibid. , 85-97), the young singer Yegor forsakes wife and child for the sake of his art, just as Rilke had left Clara and

Ruth; in another story, "Von einem, der die Steine belauscht"

(Ibid. , 129-36), Michelangelo is shown to be responsive not only to the stone beneath his hand, but to the humble village beneath his feet and to his "God" ; a third story shows how three 167 quarreling artists finally catch a vision of their eternal mission and all else fades into oblivion: . . Sie malen immer noch an Gott. " (Ibid. , 177)

Russia and "God"--both Rilkean prototypes of "Becoming"-- are the paramount ideas developed in "Das Stundenbuch" (S. W. ,

I, 249-366). There are, however, in this early work, many other adumbrations of the "later Rilke, " which fact is pointed out by the poet himself in the well-known letter to his Polish translator in November, 1925. In this letter Rilke speaks of the later "Elegien" and the "Sonette" as being a further shaping out of those essential presuppositions which were already a part of some of his earlier works:

eine weitere Ausgestaltung jener wesentlichen Voraussetzungen, die schon im "Stundenbuch" gegeben waren, die sich, in den beiden Teilen der "Neuen Gedichte", des Welt-Bilds spielend und versuchend bedienen und sie dann im Malte, konflikthaft zusammengezogen, ins Eeben zuruckschlagen und dort beinah zum Beweis fuhren, dass dieses so ins Bodenlose gehangte Leben unmoglich sei. (Briefe, II, 480)

Rilke also spoke of the "Stundenbuch" as belonging to the works of his youth, but as being "undatable" ; and throughout Rilke's letters between 1911 and 1915, he gives evidence of a desire to re-achieve something of the spiritual depth, the intense seeking, the exaltation in possessing and in being possessed, in which the

"Stundenbuch" was written. 168

Thus, beginning with the "Stundenbuch, " Rilke's pro nouncements concerning the call of the poet should take on an added significance. It is important to bear in mind that the monk-poet-painter, whose "prayers" fill this book, bears no relationship to traditional religion. The "God" of the

"Stundenbuch" is fundamentally Rilke's developing Inspiration, that mysterious power that dictated the poems to him; or simply the Spirit of Poetry; or perhaps the inner force of life which seeks manifold manifestations in a process of growth and ripening, the deep essence of things: "Du bist der Dinge tiefer

Inbegriff. " (S.W., I, 327) The monk personifies the artist's prophetic mediation between God and man and Rilke's belief that only through the artist does God operate:

Und dennoch: m ir geschieht, als ob ich ein jedes Lied tief in mir ihm ersparte.

Er schweigt hinterm bebenden Barte, er mochte sich wiedergewinnen aus seinen Melodien. Da komm ich zu seinen Knien:

und seine Lieder rinnen rauschend zuriick in ihn. (S. W. , I, 301)

Throughout "Das Buch vom monchischen Leben" (1899),

"Das Buch von der Pilgerschaft" (1901), and "Das Buch von der

Armut und vom Tode" (1903), the monk-artist voices Rilke's 169 ideas concerning the vital relationship between the poet and his

"God. " Rilke later came to realize that it would take a lifetime of anguished creativity to recapture from time to time this first innocence,' when his "God" had bound him with ties of love to his poetic mission--the mission of a perpetual Beginner, to whom the Angel would deign to appear again and again (Letters, 251).

Many pronouncements of the monk-poet find their echoes in the later works:

So viele Engel suchen dich im Lichte und stossen mit den Stirnen nach den Sternen und wollen dich aus jedem Glanze lernen. Mir aber ist, so oft ich von dir dichte, dass sie mit abgewendetem Gesichte von deines Mantels Falten sich entfernen. (S. W. , I, 270)

So many angels seek you, God, in the light, but every time I come to write about you, they turn away with averted faces from your mantle folds. The poet is able to approach God with his verse, causing the shame-faced angels to "take flight" ; his approach is one of compelling determination and unconquerable perseverance in order that he may lay hold of his God:

Losch m ir die Augen aus: ich kann dich sehn, wirf m ir die Ohren zu: ich kann dich horen, und ohne Fusse kann ich zu dir gehn, und ohne Mund noch kann ich dich beschworen. Brich mir die Arme ab, ich fasse dich mit meinem Herzen wie mit einer Hand, halt mir das Herz zu, und mein Hirn wird schlagen, und wirfst du in mein Hirn den Brand, so werd ich dich auf meinem Blute tragen. (Ibid. , 313) 170

The way to God is terribly far and long-untrod, but in the deepest night the poet digs for his divine treasure, until with bloody hands uplifted in the wind, he draws God down to his earth from distant constellations, with all the gentleness of vernal rain:

In tiefen Nachten grab ich dich, du Schatz. Denn alle Uberflusse,• • •• die ich sah, sind Armut und armsaliger Ersatz fur deine Schonheit, die noch nie geschah.

Aber der Weg zu dir ist furchtbar weit und, weil ihn lange keiner ging, verweht. O, du bist einsam. Du bist Einsamkeit, du Herz, das zu entfernten Talen geht.

Und meine Hande, welche blutig sind vom Graben, heb ich offen in den Wind, so dass sie sich verzweigen wie ein Baiun. Ich sauge dich mit ihnen aus dem Raum, als hattest du dich einmal dort zerschellt in einer ungeduldigen Gebarde und fielest jetzt, eine zerstaubte Welt, aus fernen Sternen wieder auf die Erde sanft, wie ein Friihlingsregen fallt. (Ibid., 339-40)

Rilke has restored God to his rightful place--his place in the world of things. The poet has gathered up his God in an

^■Rilke's symbols of "falling" and "heaviness" are in evidence throughout his works. Cf. G. W ., I, 272, 298; II, 133, 240-41; HI, 79, 288, 308, 331, 367; S.W., I, 400, 726, 733. 171 earthly vessel, * pleasing to the Creator of the World:

Die Dichter haben dich verstreut (es ging ein Sturm durch alles Stammeln), ich aber will dich wieder sammeln in dem Gef’ass, das dich erfreut. (Ibid. , 291)

This vessel is the vessel of poetry--poetry, through which God inherits the World: the greenness of vanished gardens; the silent blue of faded skies; a thousand days* fresh dew; many sunny days; festal autumns; bleak winters; Venice, Rome, and Moscow; fiddles, horns, and voices,

und jedes Lied, das tief genug erklungen, wird an dir glanzen wie ein Edelstein. (Ibid. , 314)

Thus this superabundance of things flows to God--just as the upper fountain spills into the lowest:

• • So fliesst der Dinge Uberfluss dir zu. Und wie die obern Becken von Fontanen bestandig uberstromen, wie von Strahnen gelosten Haares, in die tiefste Schale, -- so fallt die Fulle dir in deine Tale, wenn Dinge und Gedanken ubergehn. (Ibid. , 316)

A mighty marvel unfolds in the world:

* Demonstrating a later step in the evolution of Rilke's concept of "God" is: "Schwer ist zu Gott der Abstieg. . . .

Er ist das Wasser: bilde du nur rein die Schale aus zwei hingewillten Handen, und kniest du uberdies--: Er wird verschwenden und deiner g ro sste n F assu n g liber sein. " (S. W. , II, 235) 172

alles Leben wird gelebt.

Wer lebt es denn? Sind das die Dinge, die wie eine ungespielte Melodie im Abend wie in einer Harfe stehn? Sind das die Winde, die von W assern wehn, sind das die Zweige, die sich Zeichen geben, sind das die Blumen, die die Dufte weben, sind das die langen alternden Alleen? Sind das die warmen Tiere, welche gehn, sind das die Vogel, die sich fremd erheben? Wer lebt es denn? Lebst du es, Gott,--das Leben? (Ibid. , 317)

Life and Things and God all coalesce into a Great Unity-- into the Word of the Poet. Thus already in "Das Stundenbuch, " the Golden Age of Orpheus is foretold, when grandeur in all things terrestrial shall be reinstated by the poet who has a true understanding of his mission--

und dienend sich am Irdischen zu iiben, vim seinen Handen nicht mehr neu zu sein. (Ibid. , 330) XVII. NEW INSPIRATION AND CRISIS

Rodin- - Dinggedichte

When Rilke wrote his "Neue Gedichte" (Ibid., 479-554), he abandoned his earlier instinctive method of composition and wrote with a conscious and well-defined aim. Being influenced greatly by Rodin's "il faut toujours travailler" and his work on the "modele" ("Arbeit am Modele, " G. W. , IV, 388), Rilke characterized the first part of "Neue Gedichte" as work, the transition from inspiration that comes to that which is summoned and seized.

Just as spontaneous inspiration was replaced by work, feel ing was abandoned in favor of "das Kunstding, " and subjectivity was superseded by a new approach toward the validating of experience. The poet sought to enunciate his feelings by concen trating upon various subjects, compelling them to inspire him:

"Darin liegt die ungeheure Hilfe des Kunstdings fur das Leben . . . dass es seine Zusammenfassung ist . . . Beweis seiner Einheit und Wahrhaftigkeit, der doch nur ihm selber sich zukehrt und nach aussen anonym wirkt, namenlos, als Notwendigkeit nur, als

Wirklichkeit, als Dasein--. " (Briefe, I, 172)

173 174

The call of the poet lay not merely in thinking what is sad or joyful but in shaping these feelings into a work of art, even as

Rilke had seen Rodin shape the stone:

O alter Fluch der Dichter, die sich beklagen, wo sie sagen sollten, die immer urteiln liber ihr Gefiihl statt es zu bilden ......

...... Wie die Kranken gebrauchen sie die Sprache voller Wehleid, um zu beschreiben, wo es ihnen wehtut, statt hart sich in die Worte zu verwandeln, wie sich der Steinmetz einer Kathedrale verbissen umsetzt in des Steines Gleichmut. (S. W. , I, 663)

Certainly measuring up in every way to Rilke's new con cept of what poetry should be is "Der Panther" :

Sein Blick ist vom Voriibergehn der Stabe so mild geworden, dass er nichts mehr halt. Ihm ist, als ob es tausend Stabe gabe und hinter tausend St'aben keine Welt.

Der weiche Gang geschmeidig starker Schritte, der sich im allerkleinsten Kreise dreht, ist wie ein Tanz von Kraft um eine Mitte, in der betaubt ein grosser Wille steht.

Nur manchmal schiebt der Vorhang der Pupille sich lautlos auf--. Dann geht ein Bild hinein, geht durch der Glieder angespannte Stille-- und h o rt im H erzen auf zu sein. (Ibid. , 505)

Whereas Rilke's earlier poems had said "I love this!", the

"Neue Gedichte" say "Here it is. " Rilke desired to create poems like Rodin's sculpture--self-sufficient, perfectly wrought, and rich in content. In these poems Rilke showed that in everyday 175 sights and in simple stories there were vast possibilities for the poet who had the perseverance and the insight to find them.

Rilke felt called to objectify his poetry by spending hours, even days, in the Louvre, or the Jar din des Plantes, patiently waiting for pictures, statues and animals to yield up their secrets; hours in the streets of Paris, observing the activity of the present; hours over his favorite books, the Bible and the Lives of Saints, finding there expressions of something within his own poet-soul. *

Paris- -Wendung

The sad children of Paris had already been calling to

Rilke from their window-ledges. These hopeless little ones, who had found their way into "Das Buch von der Armut und vom

Tode, " seemed now to demand precedence over the

"Dinggedichte" :

Da wachsen Kinder auf an Fensterstufen, die immer in demselben Schatten sind, und wissen nicht, dass draussen Blumen rufen zu einem Tag voll Weite, Gluck und Wind, -- und mussen Kind sein und sind traurig Kind. (Ibid. , 345)

And now all of the misery, poverty, cruelty, and indif ference of the people of Paris sought to find expression in "Die

* Jethro Bithell, Modern German Literature 1880-1950 (3r(^ ed. rev. ; London: Methuen, 1959), p. 191. 176

Aufzeichnungen des Malte Laurids Brigge, " the first existen tialist novel of the twentieth century. It is the story of one called to be a poet, who was never able to endure the solitude which

Rilke believed to be the price paid for poetry; who was never able to understand how the sorrows of life can in turn lift one to the mountain peaks of happiness; who fell and could not pick himself up again. *

Rilke had come to realize that his responsibility as a poet was to see even in the horrible, that which is valid. As he struggled to finish "Malte, " he wrote to Clara;

Ich . . . bin ausgesandt . . . um unter dem Mensch- lichen zu sein, um alles zu sehen, um nichts abzulehnen, keine • • der tausend Verwandlungen, in denen das Ausserste sich verstellt und schwarzt und unkenntlich macht. Ich bin wie einer, der Pilze sammelt und Heilkrauter unter den Krautern; da sieht man gebiickt und mit Geringem beschaftigt aus, wahrend die Stamme ringsum stehen und anbeten. Aber die Zeit wird kommen, wo ich den Trank bereite. Und die andere, wo ich ihn hinaufbringe, in dem alles verdichtet ist und verbunden, das Giftigste und Todlichste, um seiner Starke willen; hinaufbringe zu Gott, damit er seinen Durst stille und seinen Glanz in seine Adern stromen fuhle. (Briefe, I, 249-50)

"Malte" contains Rilke's most famous pronouncement con cerning the writing of poetry; but; if the poet had explicitly

^ Rilke seems to have "gotten 'Malte' out of his system" as Goethe had done with "Werther, " and Hofmannsthal with "Lord Chandos. " 177 followed his own advice, the world of modern poetry would have been much poorer than it is today; for he advises that

man sollte warten damit und Sinn und Sussigkeit sammeln ein ganzes Leben lang und ein langes wom’bglich, und dann, ganz zum Schluss, vielleicht konnte man dann zehn Zeilen schreiben, die gut sind. Denn Verse sind nicht, wie die Leute meinen, Gefuhle, --es sind Erfahrungen. Um eines Verses willen muss man viele Stadte sehen, Menschen und Dinge, man muss die Tiere kennen, man muss fuhlen, wie die Vogel fliegen, und die Gebarde wissen, mit welcher die kleinen Blumen sich auf tun am Morgen. Man muss zuruck- denken konnen an Wege in unbekannten Gegenden, an unerwartete Begegnungen und an Abschiede, die man lange kommen sah. - -an Kindheitstage, die noch unaufgeklart sind, . . . an Morgen am Meer, an das Meer uberhaupt, an Meere, . . . und es ist noch nicht genug, wenn man an alles das denken darf. Man muss Erinnerungen haben an viele Liebesnachte, von denen keine der andern gliche, an Schreie von Kreissenden und an leichte, weisse, schlafende Wochnerinnen, die sich schliessen. Aber auch bei Sterbenden muss man gewesen sein, muss bei Toten gesessen haben in der Stube mit dem offenen Fenster und den stossweisen Gerauschen. Und es genugt auch noch nicht, dass man Erinnerungen hat. Man muss sie vergessen konnen, wenn es viele sind, und man muss die grosse Geduld haben, zu warten, dass sie wiederkommen. Denn die Erinnerungen selbst sind es noch nicht. Erst wenn sie Blut werden in uns, Blick und Gebarde, namenlos und nicht mehr zu unterscheiden von uns selbst, erst dann kann es geschehen, dass in einer sehr seltenen Stunde das erste Wort eines Verses aufsteht in ihrer Mitte und aus ihnen ausgeht. (G. W . , V, 25-27)

In general this is a rather accurate description of the creative process that Rilke experienced from the time of "Malte" to the completion of the "Duineser Elegien" (S. W ., I, 683-726) and

"Die Sonette an Orpheus" (Ibid. , 727-71). 178

The crisis that found expression in "Malte" was resolved by the poet as he turned from sight-work to heart-work in order that the multitudinous images within his mind might become known to his soul. About this same time a poem sent by Rilke to Lou Andreas-Salome is entitled "Wendung, " the turning which had to come, said the poet, if he were to live:

Werk des Gesichts ist getan, tue nun Herz-Werk an den Bildern in dir, jenen gefangenen; denn du uberwaltigtest sie: aber nun kennst du sie nicht. (S. W. , II, 83-84) XVIII. LAMENT AND PRAISE

Duineser Elegien

The new beginning so necessary to the poet's existence did

come. At Schloss Duino on the Adriatic coast one stormy winter

day in 1912, as Rilke stood on the bastion above the raging sea,

suddenly the tempest within his own heart reached a fevered pitch. He swallowed the "call-note" of deep sobbing, knowing

that those perfect Angelic Beings, those favorites of fond

Creation, those beautiful elements of "Dasein, " to whom he would cry out, are but the beginning of Terror:

Wer, wenn ich schriee, horte mich denn aus der Engel Ordnungen? und gesetzt selbst, es nahme einer mich plotzlich ans Herz: ich verginge von seinem starkeren Dasein. Denn das Schone ist nichts als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade e rtra g e n . und wir bewundern es so, weil es gelassen verschmaht, uns zu zerstoren. Ein jeder Engel ist schrecklich. Und so verhalt ich mich denn und verschlucke den L ockruf dunkelen Schluchzens. (Ibid. , I, 685)

Rilke acknowledges anew that his mission is not to the

realm of the angels--those celestial creatures, the "Pollen der bluhenden Gottheit" (Ibid. , 689); nor can he expect these pure

179 180 beings to answer his needs, for they know nothing of human birth

and death, lament and praise, pain and joy.

The poet must look to the world; his call is terrestrial:

Ja, die Fruhlinge brauchten dich wohl. Es muteten m anche Sterne dir zu, dass du sie spurtest. Es hob sich eine Woge heran im Vergangenen, oder da du veruberkamst am geoffneten Fenster, gab eine Geige sich hin. Das alles war Auftrag. Aber bewaltigtest du's? (Ibid., 686)

The earth has need of the poet; is he equal to the task? Does he

hear the "giant-call,t?

Stimmen, Stimmen. Hore, mein Herz, wie sonst nur Heilige horten: dass sie der riesige Ruf aufhob vom Boden. (Ibid. , 687)

The voices call, but the poet is not yet able to answer.

He must first conquer the doubts within his own soul before he

can answer the needs of the "calling voices. " All of the terror

of "the angels" merges into one being of daemonic proportions

with whom Rilke must come to terms--"der Erzengel . . . der

gefahrliche" (Ibid., 689)--the poet's "internal lion" (Letters,

252).

No longer can Rilke say to his "God"--"Ich liebe dich,

du sanftestes Gesetz" (S. W. , I, 268). The "God" of the

"Stundenbuch" was far too easy to come by; and the

"Dinggedichte" failed to answer adequately the urgent question 181

of the poet and his relation to the world in which he lives. The

"Daemon" which had thrust Malte over the precipice, must be

dealt with, even as Jacob wrestled with the Angel (Ibid. , II,

146)--until the Blessing of Song falls upon the poet. * Then, and

only then, can lament turn to praise, and life and death merge into one great Unity; only then can Terror become the beginning of Beauty; only then can the poet find assurance that his unique poetic task is far greater and more to be desired than fellowship with the angels.

The price that had been and must continue to be paid was indeed great, for much of Rilke's life must continue to be lived in uncertainty and loneliness. Art, as Rilke conceived it, forced him to face squarely the abyss of his own being in frightful iso lation (Briefe, II, 450-56). To be true to his call, Rilke felt that he could not live a normal life; however, he did not desire to live as an aesthete in an "ivory tower", high above the world of men.

1Cf. "Wie ist das klein, womit wir ringen, was mit uns ringt, wie ist das gross;

Das ist der Engel, der den Ringern des Alten Testaments erschien; wenn seiner Widersacher Sehnen im Kampfe sich metallen dehnen, fuhlt er sie unter seinen ringern wie Saiten tiefer Melodien. " (G. W. , II, 137-38) 182

No, to the contrary, what Rilke wanted most was to experience the world with an even more acute sensitivity^ than the average man had ever had time to develop, in order that he might gather myriad impressions for his long hours of creative "Einsamkeit" :

All that the rest forget in order to make life possible, we [the artists] are always bent on discovering,on magni fying even; it is we who are the real awakeners of our [own] monsters, to which we are not hostile enough to be come their conquerors; for in a certain sense we are at one with them; it is they, the monsters, that hold the surplus strength which is indispensable to those that must surpass themselves . . . suddenly we feel ourselves walking beside them, as in Triumph, without being able to remember the exact moment when this inconceivable reconciliation took place (bridge . . . that connects the terrible with the tender . . .)• (Letters, 252)

During the long period of solitude in Schloss Duino that resulted in the first two "Elegien, " Rilke was seriously con sidering psychoanalysis; but although he felt that all was not well with him, he still held fast to the "unbegreiflichen, unerhorten

Wunderbarkeit" (Briefe, I, 343) of his existence, which had advanced "von Rettung zu Rettung" (Ibid.) as though always through the hardest stone. The poet feared that such order as might be established by psychoanalysis could only be purchased at the cost of disturbing a much higher order, to which he owed

^Cf. "diese funffingrige Hand seiner [des Kiinstlers] Sinne" (G. W. , IV, 293); "Voile Apfel, Birne und Banane" (S. W. , I, 739); and "Tanzt die Orange" (Ibid. , 740). 183 everything, and which he felt he ought to continue to trust even if it were going to destroy him. (Ibid.)

After the completion of the first two "Elegien" in

February, 1912, there were ten years of creative anguish until at last on another February evening, this time in 1922, Rilke wrote from Muzot:

ich bin iiberm Berg! Endlich! Die "Elegien" sind da. . . . Dieses war iiberlebensgross--, ich habe gestohnt in diesen Tagen und Nachten, wie damals in Duino, --aber, selbst nach jenem Ringen dort--, ich habe nicht gewusst, dass ein solcher Sturm aus Geist und Herz uber einen koramen kann! Dass mans libersteht! dass mans ubersteht. Genug, es ist da. Ich bin hinaus gegangen, in den kalten Mondschein und habe das kleine Muzot gestreichelt wie ein grosses Tier--, die alten Mauern, die mirs gewahrt haben. Und das zerstorte Duino. (Briefe, II, 308)

What vivid description of the throes of a great poet, who, after a gestation period of ten years, gives birth to a consummate work of art--in the f ullne s s of time--and is able thereby to bear witness to the ripening within him of an immortal fruit of suffering and lo v e !

Up to "Die Siebente Elegie" there is a deep sense of in adequacy on the part of the poet as he faces the Angel who symbo lizes a higher degree of reality "im Unsichtbaren" (Briefe, II, 184

484). This transformation of the Visible into the Invisible, which is already perfected in the Angel (Ibid.), can be a con tinuing possibility for the poet through his art. The poet is thus inspired to realize that

die Erde hat keine andere Ausflucht, als unsichtbar zu werden: in uns die wir mit einem Teile unseres Wesens am Unsichtbaren beteiligt sind, Anteilscheine (mindestens) haben an ihm, und unseren Besitz an Unsichtbarkeit mehren konnen wahrend unseres Hierseins, --in uns allein kann sich diese intime und dauernde Umwandlung des Sichtbaren in Unsichtbares, vom sichtbar-und greifbarsein nicht langer Abhangiges vollziehen, wie unser eigenes Schicksal in uns fortwahrend zugleich vorhandener und unsichtbar wird ......

[Wir sind] Verwandler der Erde, unser ganzes Dasein . . . alles befahigt uns zu dieser Aufgabe. (Ibid. , 483-85)

O that man might be able to transform the world within his own heart, for "das sichtbarste Gluck uns erst zu erkennen sich giebt, wenn wir es innen verwandeln" (S. W. , I, 711). O that the poet might be able to transform the world within his own poetry:

^■"Das Unsichtbare bedeutet die geistige Welt, in der wir leben. Sie aber zu schaffen und damit das menschliche Leben in tieferen Sinn zu ermoglichen, das ist die Aufgabe des Menschen, der damit im Sinn des geschichtlichen Bewusstseins sein eigenes Sein allererst hervorbringt, und das ist insbesondere die Aufgabe des Dichters als der reinsten Form des menschlichen Daseins. " O. F. Bollnow, Rilke (2nd ed. ; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer Verlag, 1956), p. 145. 185

Hier ist des Saglichen Zeit, hier seine Heimat.

»«•••••••••••••••••••• Preise dem Engel die Welt, nicht die unsagliche, ihm kannst du nicht grosstun mit herrlich Erfuhltem; im Weltall, wo er fuhlender fuhlt, bist du ein Neuling. Drum zeig ihm das Einfache, das, von Geschlecht zu Geschlechtern gestaltet, als ein Unsriges lebt, neben der Hand und im Blick. Sag ihm die Dinge. (Ibid. , 718-19)

The poet has unlocked the door of Beauty before which the

Terrible Angel once stood guard--unlocked the door with the key of Praise. His joy overflows as he reaffirms his undying adora tion of the world:

Erde, ist es nicht dies, was du willst: unsichtbar in uns erstehn? ......

Erde, du liebe, ich will. Oh glaub, es bediirfte nicht deiner Fruhlinge mehr, mich dir zu ge\v,innen--, ein er, ach, ein einziger ist schon dem Blute zu viel. Namenlos bin ich zu dir entschlossen, von weit her. (Ibid. , 720)

In this complete affirmation of life, Rilke has lost his fear of death, for

Lebens-und Todesbejahung erweist sich als Eines in den "Elegien11. . . . Der Tod ist die uns abgekehrte, von uns unbeschienene Seite des Lebens: wir mussen versuchen, das grosseste Bewusstsein unseres Daseins zu leisten, das in beiden unabgegrenzten Bereichen zu Hause ist, aus beiden unerschopflich genahrt. . . Die wahre Lebens gestalt reicht durch beide Gebiete, das Blut des grossesten Kreislaufs treibt durch beide: es gibt weder ein Diesseits noch Jenseits, sondern die grosse Einheit, in der die uns ubertreffenden Wesen, die "Engel", zu Hause sind. (Briefe, II, 480-81) 186

But what other figure might be "at home" in the realm of the "Great Unity, " someone less forbidding than the Terrible

Angel, but yet whose life was open to death? The answer was

Orpheus, the symbol of the eternal spirit of poetry, born anew in every true poet, whom he inspires to transcend the limitations of humanity and to assume the creating-powers of Divinity, thus healing the wounds of a fragmented world with the magic of the

W ord.

Die Sonette an Orpheus

Rilke had noticed in a shop window in Switzerland a small engraving of Orpheus with his lyre, and, according to the poet, the "Sonette" had suddenly grouped themselves around this figure, merging with the memory of Wera Ouckama Knoop, a young girl whose love of life and recent untimely death had made such a deep impression on the poet.

Orpheus is a perfect embodiment of the attributes which

Rilke had come to regard as indispensable to a poet's being: singing is his very life--"Gesang ist Dasein" (S. W. , 732); his metamorphosis [is] in this one and that--"Seine Metamorphose in dem und dem" (Ibid., 733); his spreading nature from either domain has sprung--"aus beiden Reichen erwuchs seine weite

Natur" (Ibid. , 734); hail, the spirit able to unite--"Heil dem 187

Geist, der uns verbinden mag" (Ibid. , 738); his song alone encircles the land, healing and hailing--"einzig das Lied uberm

Land heiligt und feiert" (Ibid. , 743); a mouth which otherwise

Nature would !ack--"ein Mund der Natur" (Ibid. , 748); O fountain-mouth--"O Brunnen-Mund" (Ibid. , 760); praising, that's it!--"Ruhmen, dasists!" (Ibid. , 735).

A god can do it, but can one expect a man to follow divine footsteps of praise, when human nature is so full of discord?

O, tell us, poet can you praise?

Oh sage, Dichter, was du tust? --Ich ruhme. Aber das Todliche und Ungetiime, wie haltst du's aus, wie nimmst du's hin? --Ich ruhme. Aber das Namenlose, Anonyme, wie rufst du's, Dichter, dennoch an? --Ich ruhme. Woher dein Recht, in jeglichem Kostume, in jeder Maske wahr zu sein? --Ich ruhme. Und dass das Stille und das Ungestiime wie Stern und Sturm dich kennen? : - -w eil ich ruhm e. (S. W . , 11,249)

Lament and praise; "God" and the world; the Poet and his

Call! - - The "Gottsucher" has found his "God," the living water--the Water of Life--in the World of Things, offered so freely to the poet, that he may lift the brimming chalice to his lips: 188

Warum trank ich nicht, da ich es aufhob, aus dem vollen, dem geliebten Antlitz Welt, die nah war, duftend meinem Munde?

Ach, ich trank. Wie trank ich unerschopflich. Doch auch ich war angefiillt mit zuviel Welt, und trinkend ging ich selber iiber. (Ibid. , II, 168) SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

Surely one of the deepest motivations in the human soul is

that which compels a man to create a work of art. There are

doubtless many reasons why a person would feel called to dedi

cate his life to such a task. The purposes of this study have been

to survey representative writers in modern German literature in order to define the most significant patterns of thought con

cerning the call of the poet and, further, to ascertain the develop ment of ideas about the poetic mission from an intensive analysis

of the writings of George, Hofmannsthal, and Rilke.

By far the most compelling question which presents itself

to the majority of the writers considered within the confines of

this paper, is that question of Holderlin, "Wozu Dichter in

durftiger Zeit?" In fact, the answer to this inexorable query usually embraces the poet's whole philosophy of creative writing.

Holderlin believed that the poet must stand with bared head

in the raging storm of the angered gods, in order that mankind might not perish. Holderlin's mission was to catch the fire-bolt

of the gods in his own guiltless hand; to drink the heavenly fire

189 without fear; to mediate between the gods and a presumptuous people, in order that humanity might receive a heavenly gift--the divine work of art. Thus the poet's task was to turn a would-be curse into a blessing by his own willingness to suffer and create.

LeFort was also willing to take her place under the divine fire- bolt, and trembling with awesome terror, she covered the guilty one for whom it was intended with her compassionate song.

Kaiser's "Pygmalion" was an artist like unto Holderlin; but the later "Bellerophon" was molded more in the image of

Grillparzer's "Sappho"--the pure artist who had no call to mediate, the child of the gods who is allowed only a sip from the chalice of life, only a taste of its joys and sorrows, and then is received back into the realm of the gods--the realm of pure poetry. Thus Kaiser's final stress was on the blameless artist who creates perfect works of art and is, therefore, the only one worthy of salvation.

Antithetically, Broch saw the salvation of the artist and his art in the very fact that both were imperfect representatives of humanity. Herein is revealed the fearful glory of the human lot: every human being and every human work must arise from twilight and blindness. Herein is revealed the glorious task of the poet: to uncover the inscrutable Divinity in the universe and 191 in the soul of m an--even in the soul of the most degraded--and through his poetry to establish life lines connecting these mani festations of Divinity, thus paving the way for the re-establish ment of the validity of the Word, of love, and of brotherhood.

Lehmann only wanted to escape the evilness of men by turning to the great World of Nature, in much the same way that

Eichendorff turned from the "graceless times" to the poetry which he saw everywhere in Nature; however, Eichendorff's God

of Love is replaced by Lehmann's "green God" of Nature.

George relentlessly sought to divorce life and art com pletely one from the other; his all-consuming call was to pursue

"das sch’one leben, " fleeing the foulness of the world of humanity, fellow shipping only with his select circle of initiates.

LeFort prayed to the Muse that she might be the "bitter-

nislose im bittren Geschehen der Weltnis. " The needy times were just what validated her call, for hers was the call to

embrace the suffering, guilt-laden world in the arms of her

song. To those fellow-poets who might lack the compassion to

lift up the downtrodden sinner, LeFort issues a dire warning,

almost diametrically opposed to the stern judgment proclaimed

against the evilness of man by Werfel, Kaiser, and George. 192

Hofmannsthal issued no such proclamation of impending doom, but he was cognizant of the needs of an imperfect

"Soziale, " and he felt that the poet must descend from the temple into the street in order that he might understand the needs of humanity and in order that he might provide his fellow- man access to the temple of his spirit.

To drink deeply of life was the ardent desire of Rilke, that the overflow might fill his vessel of poetry, that his lament might turn to praise, that life might blend with death into a

Great Unity, that he might be able to transform the visible things of the world into the invisible things of eternity.

The "needy times" seemed to have been reflected in the

"needy Words" of the poet and the people. Virtually all of the writers considered in this study concerned themselves in one way or another with rescuing the Word out of the effeteness of everyday usage. Werfel heaps upon himself condemnation for his use of idle words, and he feels that the hope of his call is in the renewal of the Word at the primal sources of the Logos.

The regenerative powers of the Logos also attracted the attention of Rilke, Lehmann, Broch, George, and Benn. Rilke and Lehmann wanted to rename things in order to get beneath the surface of the language of appearances. George saw in the 193

redeemed Word a greater symbolic and evocative possibility, the ultimate development of which was the renewal of the Divine image within his own soul. Broch viewed the poet as the one whose Word of Poetry was a mediation between the pure Logos and the language of the people, standing between the muteness of

the gods and the muteness of the animals.

Benn reaches toward the ultimate in his explanation of the

relationship of the Logos to poetry: in the beginning--as now--

all was void and without form, but in the beginning--as now--was

the Word, which now in obedience to the command of the poet

could be shaped into a perfectly-formed work of art, poised at

the edge of the nihilistic void. This "Saying-Light, " which

descends upon the suffering poet from time to time, has not the

power to heal the fragmented world, for the wounds remain, and

darkness will return. However, the pure form of the poet's art will remain, scattering buds of Beauty over the desert of Society.

George believed that only the m aster poet is able to pene

trate to the primal sources of original creativity and produce a

perfect work of art--with its inseparable unity of symbol and

fo rm .

The Word for Trakl meant the articulation of his despair

over a fragmented world, a world of decay, a world mute with 194 grief. The poet by means of the Word must enter into the spirit of this suffering world, even as Orpheus* dismembered body entered into the things of the world. But Orpheus had been able to unite the discordant elements, whereas Trakl could only find temporary relief from his despair in a sweet lust for decay. He never succeeded in entering the Orphic realm of healing and praise which Rilke entered, even though some of Trakl's later poems do give evidence of his desperate desire to transform suffering into flowers.

Rilke saw in the poet the only one capable of healing a world disjointed by a machine age of unconcern. Hofmannsthal believed the poet's great task to be concerned not only with the healing of a world, but of individuals. There was no healing for

Benn's world, just as there was none for the wounds of

Pygmalion; but out of creation's wound would pour forth the blood out of which the suffering artist would create, just as

Pygmalion would continue to create out of the purple roses of pain.

Some of the writers treated in this study do not lend them

selves to detailed comparisons by reason of either the uniqueness,

the triteness, or the profoundness of a particular idea; and each of

them, in the final analysis, may be singled out for the complete

individuality of his approach to the call of the poet: Arno Holz-- 195

"Mit m ir beginnt ein Neues! " ; Detlev von Liliencron--"Klingling, bumbum und tschingdada" ; Georg Trakl--"die wilde Klage . . . schwarze Verwesung" ; Franz W erfel--"in dieser Welt der

Gesandte, der Mittler, der Verschmahte zu sein" ; Gottfried

Benn--"das lyrische Ich und die Leere" ; Georg Kaiser--"Ich habe mich selbst in die Sterne versetzt" ; Wilhelm Lehmann--

"die Orthodoxie der funf Sinne" ; Hermann Broch--"bloss am

Rande seines Lebens hatte er gelebt" ; Gertrud von LeFort--"die

Musen lieben die fallenden Sterne" ; Stefan George--"zum Tempel zum dienst des Schonen: des Hochsten und Grossten" ; Hugo von

Hofmannsthal--"von Tempel zur Strasse" ; Rainer Maria Rilke--

"Gesang ist Dasein. " SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY

Alewyn, Richard. Uber Hugo von Hofmannsthal. Gottingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1958.

Ashton, E. B. (ed.). Primal Vision: Selected Writings of Gottfried Benn. ("New Directions Book") Norfolk, Conn. : James Laughlin, n. d.

Benn, Gottfried. Gesammelte Werke. 4 vols. Wiesbaden: Limes Verlag, 1959-62.

Bithell, Jethro. Modern German Literature 1880-1950. 3rd ed., revised. London: Methuen, 1959.

Bollnow, O. F. Rilke. 2nd ed. Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer Verlag, 1956.

Broch, Hermann. Gesammelte Werke. 10 vols. Zurich: Rhein Verlag, 1931-61.

Closs, August (ed.). The Heath Anthology of German Poetry. Boston: D. C. Heath and Company, 1957.

Duwe, Wilhelm. Deutsche Dichtung des 20. Jahrhunderts. 2 vols. Zurich: Orell Fiissli Verlag, 1962.

Eichendorff, Joseph von. Samtliche Werke. 12 vols. Regensburg: Josef Habbel Verlag, 1908- .

Feise, Ernst, and Steinhauer, Harry (eds.). German Literature since Goethe. 2 vols. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, Inc., 1958-59...

Flores, Angel (ed.). An Anthology of German Poetry from Holderlin to Rilke. New York: Doubleday and Company, Inc. , I960.

196 197

Folten, Lore B. (ed.). Franz Werfel. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1961.

George, Stefan. Werke: Ausgabe in zwei Banden. 2 vols. Munchen: Helmut Kupper Verlag, 1958.

Gerhard, Melitta. Stefan George. Bern: Francke Verlag, 1962.

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von. Samtliche Werke. 40 vols. ("Jubilaumsausgabe") Stuttgart: Cotta Verlag, 1902-07.

Grillparzer, Franz. Samtliche Werke. 40 vols. Vienna: Anton Schroll and Company Lsicj , 1909-39.

Hofmannsthal, Hugo von. Gesammelte Werke in Einzelausgaben. 6 vols. Frankfurt: S. Fischer Verlag, 1946-59.

Holderlin, Friedrich. Samtliche Werke. 6 vols. ("Grosse Stuttgarter Ausgabe") Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer Verlag, 1946-61.

Holz, Arno. Das Werk von Arno Holz. 10 vols. Berlin: Dietz Verlag, 1924-25.

Jacobsen, Jens Peter. Niels Lyhne. Translated from the Danish. New York: P. F. Collier and Son, n. d.

Kaiser, Georg. Griechische Dramen. Zurich: Artemis V erlag, 1948^

Kenworthy, B. J. Georg Kaiser. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1957.

LeFort, Gertrud von. Aufzeichnungen und Erinnerungen. Einsiedeln: Benzinger Verlag, 1951.

LeFort, Gertrud von. Gedichte. ("Insel-Bucherei, " No. 580). Wiesbaden: Insel Verlag, 1954.

Lehmann, Wilheln. Meine Gedichtbucher. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1957.

Lennartz, Franz. Deutsche Dichter und Schriftsteller unserer Zeit. Stuttgart: Alfred Kroner Verlag, 1959. 198

Matthias, L. L. Review of Gesammelte Werke. Gottfried Benn; Bucher unserer Zeit. Wiesbaden: Limes Verlag, 1963.

Moore, Harry T. (trans.). Selected Letters of Rainer M aria Rilke. Garden City, New York: Doubleday and Company, i960".

Morwitz, Ernst. Kommentar zu dem Werk Stefan Georges. Munchen: Helmut Kupper Verlag, I960.

Rilke, Rainer Maria. Briefe. 2 vols. Leipzig: Insel Verlag, 1950.

Rilke, Rainer Maria. Gesammelte Werke. 6 vols. Leipzig: Insel Verlag, 1930.

Rilke, Rainer Maria. Samtliche Werke. 4 vols. Leipzig: Insel Verlag, 1955.

Simon, Klaus. Traum und Orpheus, Eine Studie zu Georg Trakls Dichtungen. Salzburg: Otto Muller Verlag, 1955.

Soergel, Albert. Dichtung und Dichter der Zeit: Jm Banne des Expressionismus. Leipzig: R. Voigtlander Verlag, 1925.

Soergel, Albert, and Hohoff, Kurt. Dichtung und Dichter der Zeit: Vom Naturalismus bis zur Gegenwart. 2 vols. Dusseldorf: August Bagel Verlag, 1961, 1963.

Trakl, Georg. Decline. ("Crescendo Poetry Series, " Nos. 1-8). St. Ives: Latin Press, 1951-52.

Trakl, Georg. Gedichte. Munchen: Kosel Verlag, 1957.

Werfel, Franz. Gedichte aus den Jahren 1908-1945. Los Angeles: Privatdruck der Pazifischen Presse, 1946.

Zeydel, Edwin H. (trans.). Goethe, the Lyrist ("University of North Carolina Studies in Germanic Languages and Literatures, " No. 16). Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1955. VITA

Patricia Walker Wannamaker was born May 6^, 1929, at

Bishopville, South Carolina, daughter of the Reverend and Mrs.

George E. Walker. In 1947 she married John Murray

Wannamaker of Orangeburg, South Carolina, and they have two

daughters, Rebecca Carol and M argaret Anneve.

A graduate of Dreher High School in Columbia, South

Carolina, she holds the A. B. (1950) and M. A. (1958) degrees

from the University of South Carolina.

She taught in the public secondary schools of South

Carolina for nine years prior to her doctoral work as an

N. D. E. A. fellow at Louisiana State University. At present, she

is an assistant professor of German at Clemson College in

Clemson, South Carolina. EXAMINATION AND THESIS REPORT

Candidate: P a tr ic ia Walker Wannamaker

Major Field: German

Title of Thesis: The Call of the Poet in Modern German Literature as Reflected in the Writings of Stefan George, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, and Rainer Maria Rilk

Approved:

f Major Professor and Chairman &

nean of the Graduate School

EXAMINING COMMITTEE:

UX'WtowtHj

------

Date of Examination:

May 12. 196*f