The Foregoing Investigation of Lessing S Attitude Toward Witz Indisputably Reveals That
Total Page：16
File Type：pdf, Size：1020Kb
PART II
The foregoing investigation of Lessing’s attitude toward Witz indisputably reveals that it assumed an important role in his aesthetic theory throughout his life, despite any refinements and shifts in his ideas over time. The next task is to determine how he applied Witz in his own writing practice. The absence of a sweeping and systematic poetics in Lessing’s oeuvre meant that the model of his conception of Witz had to be constructed from his often incidental mention of it in highly specific contexts. While this method proved revealing in many respects, it also left many questions unanswered. For example, a specific connection between comedy and Witz became increasingly apparent in his writings beginning in the mid-1760s; yet the basis of this relationship still remains unclear. Similarly, while Lessing came to so vehemently reject Witz as a basis of macrostructural unity in the tragedy, whether it could still serve any other function in that genre was unaddressed. It also was revealed that Lessing gradually made genre-specific differentiations regarding the application of Witz; but since not every genre was thoroughly discussed in his writings, its range of potential applications still remains vague. Investigating his practical application of Witz can now help fill the gaps inevitably left by the deductive analysis of his references to Witz. As a prolific writer of poetry, literary criticism and theory, theological essays, and above all, dramas, he had ample opportunity to experiment with the practical usages of Witz in various contexts. The following four chapters examine Lessing’s writing by genre and in chronological stages. In each section, a range of representative examples is analyzed in an attempt to reveal the diversity of possible usages Lessing detected for Witz. The investigation does not presume to offer a thorough analysis of each of the works presented, but rather locates several specimens of Lessing’s Witz in context to shed light on its character and function. Despite the differences among his poetry, prose, and dramatic works, the specific structural possibilities for Witz begin to crystallize across genres. In examining his works diachronically, where possible, and by genre the relationship between developments in his literary theory and practice becomes evident. 2
Chapter 4 Witz in Lessing’s Poetry and Prose
Witz has been recognized by Lessing scholars as a formal feature of both his poetry and prose, however, typically only in isolated studies or merely in passing. Paul Böckmann, seeking manifestations of Witz as a rococo literary form, finds the author’s Anacreontic verses demonstrative of the range of formal possibilities for Witz.1 For Winfried Barner, Lessing’s epigrams in particular epitomize his use of Witz, although Barner does not explore or describe the substance of the Witz he finds there.2 Jörg Schönert mentions in his commentary to Lessing’s Literaturbriefe that the criticism and polemical attacks there are often transmitted with Witz, making the esoteric accessible to a broader readership.3 In examining Lessing’s use of Witz in his Anacreontic poetry, his epigrams, and his journalistic prose, common features of Witz become evident across genres. Its structural possibilities begin to crystallize into two distinct categories alongside the dual functions of global unity and novel expressions that appear locally in a work. A number of examples will be explored and findings will be synthesized as evidence amalgamates.
4.1 Anacreontic Poetry Lessing’s Anacreontic attempts to write songs of love and wine place his earliest writings in the rococo tradition. Like the rococo poets, he, too, knew a form of Witz that served the end of playful expression for the sole purpose of delighting readers. “Die Diebin,” composed in 1745 while Lessing was still a teen at St. Afra, predates the earliest explicit references to Witz as an aesthetic ideal in his writings. Du Diebin mit der Rosenwange, Du mit den blauen Augen da!
Dich mein’ ich—wird dir noch nicht bange? Gesteh’ nur, was ich fühlt und sah!
Du scheweigst? Doch deine Rosenwange Glüht schuldig, röter, als vorhin, O Diebin mit der Rosenwange, Wo ist mein Herz, wo kam es hin? (I,124-25) Witz manifests itself in the final verse of the poem, in the unexpected association of two otherwise unrelated thoughts. Through the first seven lines, the reader is led to anticipate the exposure of a thief. The very last verse reveals that the stolen object is the lyrical I’s heart. A thief and the speaker’s beloved, two ordinarily dissonant characters, are infused here in a single person through the application of Witz. The final line explicates the entire poem, divulging without directly stating that the female thief, red-cheeked with feelings of guilt, is a blushing lover. This Anacreontic example stands firmly in the tradition of rococo poetry. Treating the captured heart as the spoils of a theft lends the expression of thoughts a form that can be perceived intuitively and immediately.4 Witz intersects with the ideal of Scherz, combining ideas in a poignant moment to the end of surprising amusement. 1 Paul Böckmann, Formgeschichte …, 530. 2 Winfried Barner, Lessing: Epoche-Werk-Wirkung, 135. 3 In: Werke, vol. 5, 823. 4 Cf. Perels, who finds the rationalist Witz definitions of Wolff and Gottsched insufficient to the explanation of its place in rococo poetry (204). 3
As pointed out in Chapter 2, in 1747 Lessing already suggested the potential utility of an entertaining Witz in conveying serious content. In Der Naturforscher, Lessing criticized the unimaginative and monotonous description of nature offered by its editor, Lessing’s cousin, Christlob Mylius. Based on the system developed by Swedish scholar Carl von Linné, Mylius explicated the arrangement of the natural world: Alle natürlichen Körper zusmmengenommen sind das, was man das Reich der Natur, oder überhaupt die Natur zu nennen pflegt [. . .]. Man hat also das große Reich der Natur in drey besondere Reiche eingetheilet, davon das erste die Steine, das andere die Pflanzen, und das dritte die Thiere in sich begreift. Das letzte wird das Thierreich, das andere das Pflanzenreich, und das erste das Steinreich genennet.5 Lessing demonstrates just how Witz can supply such subject matter with novelty and unity, making it both instructive and pleasurable. He transposes Mylius’s dull clarification into an image-rich poetic work in his lied “Die drei Reiche der Natur,” also drawing on his knowledge of Linné’s writings.6 Drey Reiche sinds, die in der Welt Uns die Natur vor Augen stellt. Die Anzahl bleibt in allen Zeiten Bey den Gelehrten ohne Streiten. Doch wie man sie beschreiben muß, Da irrt fast jeder Physikus Hört, ihr Gelehrten, hört Mich an, Ob Ich sie recht beschreiben kann.
Die Tiere sind dem Menschen gleich, Und beyde sind das erste Reich Die Tiere leben, trinken, lieben, Ein jegliches nach seinen Trieben. Der Furst, Stier, Adler, Floh und Hund Empfindet die Lieb und netzt den Mund. Was also trinkt und lieben kann, Wird in das erste Reich gethan.
Die Pflanze macht das andre Reich, Dem ersten nicht an Güte gleich: Sie liebet nicht, doch kann sie trinken, Wenn Wolken treufelnd niedersinken. So trinkt die Ceder und der Klee, Der Weinstock und die Aloe. Drum was nicht liebt, doch trinken kann, Wird in das andre Reich gethan.
Das Steinreich ist das dritte Reich, 5 Der Naturforscher 4-5 (1747): 25-27. Die Zeitschriften des 18./19. Jahrhunderts: fiche 3198/0001. 6 Carl von Linné had distinguished among the three classes in his Systema naturae, sive Regna tria naturae systematice proposita per classes, ordines, genera et species (1735): “Lapides crecunt. Vegetabilia crescunt et vivunt. Animalia crescunt, vivunt et sentient.” 4
und dieß macht Sand und Demant gleich. Kein Stein fühlt Durst und zarte Triebe; Er wächset ohne Trunk und Liebe. Drum, was nicht liebt noch trinken kann, Wird in das letzte Reich gethan. Denn ohne Lieb und ohne Wein, Sprich, Mensch, was bleibst du noch? Ein Stein.7 Mylius’s discussion of the three-fold division of nature is now integrated into the context of an Anacreontic poem. Lessing locates the moment of convergence between the idyllic rococo world and the sphere of natural science—normally two very disparate realms—in the two themes of love and drinking.8 He recognizes that “lieben” and “trinken” can refer to purposeless, flirtatious play and imbibing just as well as they can denote the purposeful basic natural instincts to the respective ends of procreation and self-sustenance. He thus proceeds to delineate the three classes of earthly nature according to their inherent ability or inability to imbibe/drink and procreate/love. The potential for dual meanings in the concepts of “Liebe” and “Trunk” is activated in the final two verses. Based on the lied’s internal system, forms of nature that neither drink nor love belong to the kingdom of stones. The syllogistic conclusion of the final line, established through the polysemy in the terms “Liebe” and “Trunk,” implies that people who deny themselves the social pleasures of flirtation and alcohol must necessarily be inhuman, must belong to the lowest form of nature. Lessing activates the second meaning by first setting up the description of the stone kingdom in terms of love and drink, then he refers to a specific kind of drink—wine—thus reawakening a second potential connotation of the terms for the reader’s apprehension. Lessing exploits the semantic ambiguity in the words and makes this the basis of his Witz in the poem. The unspoken but immediately perceived message upholds the rococo ideals of amour and wine as positive values that exalt humankind above other forms of nature. His associations allow the initial lesson about nature to become original and entertaining and to form a well-rounded totality in itself. Lessing’s application of Witz goes beyond the confines of his poetic subject matter. His entire manner of constructing this lied is based on the principle of Witz as he subsequently came to define it. The poem ensues from his recognition of the similarity between Carl von Linné’s succinct characterization of the three subdivisions of the natural world, the immediate occasion of Mylius’s prose explanation, and one of the ancient Anacreontic poems that metaphorically refers to “drinking” in the natural world.9 Examples from Lessing’s works, in which he builds 7 I cite here from the text of Der Naturforscher (9 [1747]: 71) directly, for the poem underwent several modifications in following years. The original introductory stanza was significantly altered for its 1751 reprinting and was then again for its republication in 1753, until it was finally omitted completely in 1766. Other, mostly minor lexical and orthographical modifications were adopted through time. In the final version of the poem, the first two verses of the second stanza are replaced with the lines: Ich trink’, und trinkend fällt mir bei, Warum Naturreich dreifach sei. (I,94) Changing the first two lines of the poem (after omitting the first stanza completely) heightens the sense of poetic unity in the lied. With the mention of imbibing in the very first line, the reference to alcohol near the close of the poem points back to the introductory verses and closes the circle that includes “Liebe” and “Trunk” in both possible senses. The Lachman/Muncker edition catalogs the alterations: Karl Lachman and Franz Muncker, eds., Sämtliche Schriften, vol. 1 (Stuttgart: Göschen, 1886), 95-96.
8 9 On the origins of Lessing’s “Die drei Reiche der Natur,” see Herbert Zeman, Die deutsche anakreontische Dichtung:Ein Versuch zur Erfassung ihrer ästhetischen und literarhistorischen Erscheinungsformen im 18. 5 upon existing works but updates their message for a contemporary public, are many.10 Lessing was very well read relative to the majority of his contemporaries. His vast erudition provided him with a rich store from which he could form associations. His use of preexisting texts has been a topic of scholarly discussion since the appearance of Paul Albrecht’s six-volume Lessings Plagiate in 1890, in which Albrecht sought to expose Lessing’s oeuvre as a mere amalgamation of the works of others. However, the Witz of Lessing’s so-called plagiarisms is that he perceives a new potential in the combination of certain elements from these texts. By transporting ideas contained in existing works into wholly different contexts, Lessing succeeds in producing texts quite unlike those of his predecessors. The poem “Die drei Reiche der Natur” is exemplary of the originality/uniqueness of his final products. Both poems, “Die drei Reiche der Natur” and “Die Diebin,” exemplify how Witz can serve the global purpose of poetic unity. In the former, the general themes of love and drink allow for the broad connection between science and the realm of rococo social behavior. In the latter, similarity between a thief and a lover shape the verses from beginning to end. In the final verse of each poem, a second layer of meaning is revealed.
4.2 Epigrammatic Witz While Lessing’s Anacreontic endeavors were limited to the years of his youth, his interest in epigrams remained active throughout his life. In his epigram theory, as briefly explored in Chapter 3, Lessing distinguishes between two types of epigrams: “perfect” and “imperfect.” Perfect epigrams contain a “Gedanke, um dessen willen die Erwartung erregt wird”; imperfect epigrams are “bloß das Werk des Witzes” (V,452), although the former type could additionally make use of Witz. While Winfried Barner identifies the epigram among Lessing’s works as the “‘witzig’- rationale Gattung par excellence,”11 Witz was not the defining moment of the genre in Lessing’s view. Many of his poems, such as “An den Marull” contain no Witz: “Groß willst du, und auch artig sein? / Marull, was artig ist, ist klein” (I,10). This Sinngedicht declares the impossibility of being both dignified and gallant since gallantry is by its very nature frivolous. As a perfect epigram communicating a substantive concept, Witz is unnecessary and is therefore absent.12 “Der Schuster Franz,” on the other hand, is an epigram of the perfect variety that nonetheless uses Witz: “Es hat der Schuster Franz zum Dichter sich entzückt. / Was er als Schuster tat, das tut er noch: er flickt” (I,26). Describing the poet’s method of production in terms of the handwork of a shoemaker exposes Franz as only a mediocre poet. A writer who engages in “flicken” only patches his raw materials together rather than synthesizing the elements of his work into an original and seemingly organic whole. By bringing the shoemaker and the poet together in the verb “flicken,” Witz makes the message concrete and vivid. By Lessing’s definition, the epigram was meant to bring about a kind of composite pleasure by emulating the satisfaction of the human thirst for knowledge and generating the vivid sensate impression of an idea (V,426). Where truly new thoughts or ideas were absent, Witz could be used to deceptively lend the reader the impression that his raised expectation had been satisfied. “Auf Lorchen” is one such imperfect epigram: “Lorchen heißt noch eine Jungfer.
Jahrhundert, Germanistische Abhandlungen 38 (Stuttgart: Metzler, 1972), 233-37. 10 See, for instance, Walter Jens, “Ein Mann von Witz. Zwei Interpretationen,” In Sachen Lessing. Vorträge und Essays (Stuttgart: Reclam, 1983), 157-63. 11 Winfried Barner, et al, Lessing: Epoche-Werk-Wirkung (München: Beck, 1975), 135. 12 While rhyme could be seen as a manifestation of Witz, such sonant similarity would have been regarded by Lessing, as by many of his contemporaries, as very shallow and unremarkable form of Witz. 6
Wisset, die ihrs noch nicht wißt: / So heißt Lucifer ein Engel, ob er gleich gefallen ist” (I,32). The final communiqué takes the reader by surprise, leaving him with the sense that he has acquired a new concept. But declaring at the outset that Lorchen is a virgin sets up a false expectation since what the verses communicate is exactly the opposite: her lack of virginity. “Auf Lorchen” thus belongs to the type of imperfect epigrams “welche uns mit ihrer Erwartung hintergehen” (V,453). The Witz of the simple verse consists in an unmistakable analogy that indirectly exposes Lorchen’s tainted chastity. Its composition resembles an equation: Lucifer : fallen angel = Lorchen : ? virgin The reader is left to complete the analogy. Because the positive label “Engel” has been relativized through the pejorative adjective “gefallen,” the reader must spontaneously realize that a similar qualification of the designation “Jungfer” is in order. The poem’s connotation is unanticipated because the formulation itself deceives the reader. The image of the fallen angel is used in a novel way to insinuate Lorchen’s status with respect to virginity. The epigram enlists the element of surprise to lend the impression of novelty and attain the genre’s intended pleasurable end (V,453). The somewhat longer Sinngedicht “An einen Lügner” also ends with a sudden association in the form of an unexpected reversal of expectations: Du magst so oft, so fein, als dir nur möglich, lügen: Mich sollst du dennoch nicht betriegen. Ein einzigmal hast du mich betrogen: Das kam daher, du hattest nicht gelogen. (I,19) Based on the first two verses, the reader is led to believe that the lyrical I is perspicacious enough to distinguish lies from truth. But in the final verse, the syzygy of truth and falsehood becomes reversed. The conventional correlation between lying and deception is thwarted; lying is replaced with truthfulness, so that truth and deception become a united pair. The Witz of the epigram is that the unrelated opposites of lying and truth are both equally allied with deception. The reader’s expectation is not satisfied; he is rather surprised by the association. Witz is useful in imperfect epigrams not only for producing novelty but also for constructing those poems, “deren Aufschluß in einer Zweideutigkeit bestehet” (V,453). The Sinngedicht “Auf Frau Trix,” employs such ambiguity to achieve its effect: “Frau Trix besucht sehr oft den jungen Doktor Klette. / Argwohnet nichts! Ihr Mann liegt wirklich krank zu Bette” (I,14).13 The direction to the reader not to be suspicious in actuality first awakens his mistrust, for up until this point the reader has no reason to believe Frau Trix’s visits to be anything but honorable. Once the reader’s suspicion is raised, a two-fold interpretation of the last statement becomes possible. Knowing that her husband is home ill and that this is the particular occasion for her calls on the doctor, what remains uncertain is whether she visits the doctor for his professional service with regard to her husband’s illness or whether her spouse’s bed-ridden state provides her with the opportunity for an illicit love affair with the doctor. The latent potential for double meaning in the name “Trix,” due to its homonymy with “Tricks,” is also brought to fruition with the second verse. Witz supplies ambiguity, implying skepticism about Frau Trix’s fidelity without making direct and unmistakable reference to it. The epigram is constructed in a manner that grants it two potential meanings. “An einen schlechten Maler,” too, employs ambiguity to achieve its surprising effect: “Ich saß dir lang’ und oft: warum denn, Meister Steffen? / Ich glaube fast, mich nicht von ungefähr zu treffen” (I,23). The lyrical I reminds the artist that he has been invited especially
13 Cf. Peter Hess’s explication of the poem in: Epigramm, Sammlung Metzler 248 (Stuttgart: Metzler, 1989), 122. 7 frequently and for long periods of time to sit for a portrait. As the speaker suggests the motives behind the recurrent requests for him to visit and the unusually lengthiness of his stays, the final infinitive clause takes on two possible connotations based on the potential for dual meaning in the verb “treffen.” The lyrical I can be understood as implying that he has been invited so often because the artist wants to make the portrait as precise as possible, or alternatively, because the artist wants to avoid meeting him somewhere by chance. The poem’s title permits the insinuation that the painter’s likeness is perhaps not so accurate, hence the lyrical I’s sense that the artist’s need for him to undergo prolonged and frequent sittings must serve some other end. While the Anacreontic poems from Lessing’s early years show how Witz can contribute to poetic unity, the epigrams show the employment of Witz on a slightly smaller scale. It also becomes quite evident that beyond the immediate aesthetic effect that is to be derived from the perception of Witz in a literary work, it can also be engaged to serve other functions. In the few examples explored here, it is harnessed to advocate particular values or to criticize certain behaviors, to illuminate a person’s character or raise doubts about the motives behind particular acts, and to expose a false attitude. By no means do the few examples from Lessing’s epigrams and Anacreontic poetry exhaust every formal possibility of Witz in his lyrical works. But they do reveal a range of its potential applications. The highly variable functions apparent within this small sampling of Lessing’s poetry suggests that the utility of Witz, beyond its immediate aesthetic purpose, is extremely diverse.
4.3 Literary Criticism and Theory In all of the works of literary criticism examined in the previous two chapters, Lessing finds occasion not only to discuss Witz but also to employ it. As became most evident there, to the end of eloquence (Beredsamkeit) he found Witz both appropriate and necessary in any published works addressed toward a larger audience. While the global form of unifying Witz is absent in his criticism (as might be expected, since they are not strictly closed poetic entities), instances of microstructural Witz are ample. Among the numerous and diverse instances of Witz present in Lessing’s literary and theatrical reviews, several are of particular interest for exemplifying his Witz conception. In each stage of his literary theory and criticism explored in Part I, examples can be found that draw both his theory and practice together into a single context—either by employing Witz to explicate Witz or by using Witz and then directly referring to it as such. Some of those passages will be explored here. For the sake of variety, however, his use of Witz will also be examined in other contexts. His journalistic prose reveals heterogeneous possibilities for Witz from the simplest metaphor to the complex association of disparates. In Lessing’s first installment of Das Neueste aus dem Reiche des Witzes in 1751, he sets out to delimit the object of his monthly supplement. He commences with a discussion of the widespread disinclination among serious scholars toward the arts. The “Reich des Witzes” is [e]in Reich, welches viele auf ihrer Karte nicht finden. Wenigstens die Gelehrten nicht [. . .],welche die Wissenschaften längst in ein Handwerk verwandelt hätten [. . .]. Aufs höchste haben sie es in die äußerste Ecke derselben verwiesen, und unbekannte Länder darauf geschrieben, weil sie ihnen nicht eher zu Gesichte kommen, als wenn sie von einem unglücklichen Sturme dahin verschlagen werden, und an ihren felsigten Ufern schimpflich scheidern. Diesen Herren also würden wir sehr unverständlich sein, wann wir ihnen von seinem Umfange und seinen Grenzen vieles vorsagten [. . .]. (III,83) 8
Lessing plays with the semantic scope of the word “Reich” and transforms the abstract notion of a creative discipline into a tangible material entity. The reader can visualize this conceptual category as a province on a map. The physical distance and geographical boundaries are decipherable as the theoretical scope and limits of the discipline. The skeptics’ treatment of this geographical region on paper vividly signifies their attitude toward the arts. The field of aesthetics is not only unknown to them; they also deliberately avoid contact with it. Only when forced by misfortunate circumstances to be shipwrecked on its shores, would they even take notice of it. Lessing activates the meanings inherent in the term “Reich” to simultaneously circumscribe both a physical and a conceptual space. With his metaphorical depiction he begins to delineate the position of aesthetics among contemporary intellectuals. He takes a defensive stance because prejudices against literature, the opinion that it breeds vice and depravity, are widespread in the mid-eighteenth century. Its detractors are unaware of the vast potential of aesthetics in the refinement of humankind and the improvement of society because they have no sensitivity for how Witz operates. Die genauste Erklärung des Witzes muß einem, der keinen hat, eben so unbegreiflich sein, als einem Blinden die hinlänglichste Erklärung der Farben ist. Glaubt dieser, daß die verschiedene Brechung verschiedner Sonnenstrahlen ohngefähr etwas sei, welches dem Schalle verschiedner Instrumente gleich komme, so wird jener gewiß glauben, daß die Fertigkeit die Übereinstimmungen der Dinge gewahr zu werden, ein Teil der Rechenkunst sein müssen. (III,83) Ironically, in accounting for the difficulties involved in explicating Witz, he at the same time illuminates its basic nature. By setting up an analogy between a person lacking the ability to see and a person who has no Witz, Lessing first of all points to the visually sensate quality of Witz. It can help the abstract materialize for the reader by invoking vivid imagery. Then he further constructs an analogy of two polar opposites to neutralize any assumptions the reader may have that Witz involves mechanical mental processes: sounds of musical instruments are to beams of light as math is to Witz. That is to say, the modes of light and sound are as different as the distinctive essences of Witz and mathematics. Like the attempt to convey to a blind person the principles beneath the appearance of colors in terms of the mechanics of sound, an effort to explain Witz as analogous to arithmetic is futile. By Lessing’s definition, Witz deals with the senses and intuition, the lower perceptive faculties, and mathematics manipulates intangible and abstract numbers, formulas, and theories. Their media are incompatible. At the outset of his essay in 1751, Lessing thus uses Witz to elucidate the status and structure of Witz. A 1755 review of a book meant to instruct readers in the usefulness of periodicals exemplifies a more critical application of Witz. This book written “zum Nutzen des Zeitunglesers” (III,240) consisted of three parts, the second of which “handelt von dem Nutzen der Zeitungen, von ihrem Nutzen überhaupt, von ihrem Nutzen an Höfen, von ihrem Nutzen auf Universitäten [. . .]” (III,240-41). In total, Lessing inventories twelve specific areas of life covered in the book where periodicals are said to be advantageous. His multiple uses of the word “Nutzen” up to this point all refer to the benefits the reader can reap from the publications and this meaning is emphasized by the excessive repetition of the term in this sense. Then suddenly the word takes on a different shade of meaning: “Kurz, es ist sonnenklar, daß die Zeitungen das nützlichste Institutum sind, zu welchem die Erfindung der Buchdruckerei jemals Anlaß gegeben hat. Das Publikum kann leicht einsehen, daß man dieses ohne Absicht auf irgend einen Nutzen sagt, denn von dem Nutzen, den ihre Verleger daraus ziehen, steht kein Wort in dem ganzen 9
Werkchen” (III,241). Now the term “Nutzen” becomes ambiguous. The phrase “ohne Absicht auf einen Nutzen” can indicate that either 1) one has no intention of profiting from the endorsement of periodicals or 2) there is no point to discussing their usefulness. Upon first absorbing the phrase, the reader understands it in the latter sense, but then given reference to the financial gain that can be garnered by publishers, the other meaning also becomes activated. Thus, “Nutzen” can now indicate either (publishers’) profit or (readers’) utility. The intersection of both meanings in the very same term makes the praise of periodicals suspect: for whom are they “useful”? Lessing uses Witz in the process of describing the content of the reviewed volume to insinuate ulterior motives in its overabundant praise of periodicals. As in his early reviews, in the Literaturbriefe, too, does Lessing apply Witz to meet his critical objectives. He invokes imagery to deliver his message in a sensate manner. If all poetic attempts to delight readers were like Johann Franz von Palthen’s work, entitled “Versuche zu vergnügen,” then one could forego reading them: “Laßt uns lieber den wilden Bart tragen, ehe wir zugeben, daß die Lehrlinge der Barbierstuben an uns lernen.” (V,40). By likening poetic amateurs to apprenticing barbers, an abstract notion becomes captured the concrete image of an untamed beard. Keeping the beard to avoid the risk of being cut by the novice’s unsteady blade is metaphorically akin to forgoing the pleasures of poetic indulgence to escape the negative influence of literary follies. The beard remains “wild” because its wearer thus sacrifices the refinement that aesthetics can breed. In another passage, he applies Witz to characterize the unfortunate manner in which Christoph Martin Wieland borrows from Nicolas Rowe’s tragedy Lady Jane Gray: “Nunmehr sagen Sie mir, was Herr Wieland mit diesem großen Plane anders gemacht hat, als daß er einen prächtigen Tempel eingerissen, um eine kleine Hütte davon zu bauen?” (V,217) In his own tragedy, Wieland destroys the splendor of his stately original by extracting only the most commonplace materials and assembling from them a far inferior and unimpressive edifice. The imagery of the temple and the hut, and the dismantling of the former to attain the latter, conveys Lessing’s perception of the relative superiority of the original tragedy and the inferiority of Wieland’s imitation. In the Literaturbriefe, Lessing’s Witz becomes even more pointed and intricate than in his earlier journalistic contributions. Two instances that he directly designates as examples of Witz appear in the course of his criticism of specific authors or works. The first of these occurs within the context of an ongoing dispute with Johann Bernhard Basedow regarding the journal Der nordische Aufseher. Lessing had described the journal’s style as overly verbose. Its sentences were so long and labyrinthine that meanings inevitably became lost to readers somewhere between a sentence’s beginning and end. Moreover, buried beneath its distended verbiage was often only a trite and insignificant thought (V,176). Topics were oftentimes obscured by the wordage used to expound them, as in an attempt in one issue to prove the dictum: “[E]in Mann ohne Religion könne kein rechtschaffener Mann sein” (V,282). To invalidate Lessing’s criticism, Basedow had undertaken a forthright and methodical analysis of the essay on this particular adage. He intended to defend both the dictum itself and the argumentation used in the journal to support it. A reader’s familiarity with Basedow’s style was essential to understanding Lessing’s consequent deployment of Witz. Hence, as a precondition of his coming counterattack, Lessing reprints, as do I, Basedow’s attempt to vindicate the journal. Lessing prefaces the excerpt: Nun hören Sie wie Herr Basedow beweisen will, daß mein Tadel auch ungegründet und falsch sei. Er analysiert in dieser Absicht das ganze Blatt; und es ist nötig, daß ich Ihnen das Skelett, welches er davon macht, vor Augen lege. ‘Satz: Keine Rechtschaffenheit ist ohne Religion. 10
Erster Beweis. Ein Rechtschaffener sucht die Pflichten, die aus seinen Verhältnissen gegen andere folgen, allesamt getreu und sorgfältig zu erfüllen. Und man hat auch Pflichten gegen Gott, welche ein Mensch ohne Religion nicht zu erfüllen trachtet. Erster Zusatz. Polidor, dessen unerschöpflicher Witz über Lehren spottet, die er niemals untersucht hat, und Lehren lächerlich macht, ohne sich darum zu bekümmern, ob sie es verdienen, ist also kein rechtschaffener Mann, ob er gleich seine Zusage hält, und zuweilen mitleidig ist, welches vielleicht noch eine Wirkung des in der Jugend gelernten Katechismus sein kann, den er nunmehr verachtet [. . .].’ (V,284) Basedow goes on to offer a second evidence for his first proof as well as two additional proofs. In response to the tedious explication, Lessing remarks, and not without irony: Was für eine kleine unansehnliche, gebrechliche Schöne ist der ‘Nordische Aufseher’, wenn man ihm seine rauschende Einkleidung, seinen rhetorischen Flitterstaat, seine Kothurnen nimmt. Eine solche Venus kann nicht sagen: Ich bin nackend mächtiger, als gekleidet. Gegen sie darf Minerva nur ihre Eule zu Felde schicken.—Doch lieber keinen Witz! Herr Basedow ist ein Todfeind von allem Witze. Er erwartet Gründe; und wie können Gründe bei Witz bestehen? Erlauben Sie mir also, eine ganz trockene Prüfung der drei Beweise, wie sie Herr Basedow ausgezogen hat, anzustellen. (V,285) What Lessing characterizes as Witz here is an association of the unrelated. Der nordische Aufseher is metaphorically likened to Venus, the goddess of beauty, but not as an expression of praise. He qualifies the analogy, stressing that “[e]ine solche Venus” as this journal has beauty based on mere externalities, not sincere but only apparent beauty. When the adorning garb is removed, i.e., when Basedow sheds the original arguments of all their confused verbosity and attempts to present them straightforwardly, it becomes all the more apparent that no substance lies beneath the surface rhetoric and decoration. The initial invocation of the realm of Roman mythology allows Lessing to spin out his analogy. Minerva, the goddess of knowledge and wisdom, need only send her token bird out into battle to conquer this weak Venus. Via Witz Lessing indicates that the slightest amount of true substance is sufficient to destroy any arguments found in the journal because they consist of nothing but hollow words. The battlefield imagery awakened by the phrase “zu Felde schicken” and its association with the artistic domain is particularly apt because Minerva was also the goddess of war and of the arts. The Witz that Lessing applies in his attack on the Nordischer Aufseher serves multiple purposes. First, the style of the journal comes under attack as a debilitating prolixity which, rather than elucidating the ideas it purports to contain, confuses and obscures them. His Witz is meant to reaffirm by way of powerful imagery his earlier criticism of the journal. Second, the Nordischer Aufseher and Basedow, as its outspoken defender, are condemned for their lack of substance. The journal’s content, especially after Basedow’s methodical dissection of it, proves as frivolous as its style. Finally, Basedow’s overly pedantic, tedious formulation of the material becomes the object of ridicule. Lessing exercises his Witz to accomplish a three-fold task in a single stroke, bringing together his otherwise extended criticism in a single poignant moment. At the same time, the Witz example stands as an unquestionably superior alternative to the two argumentative approaches it rejects, verbose exposition and abstract analysis. 11
This particular passage illustrates the precarious nature of Witz as a communicative form. In order for readers to sense the implicit meaning behind Lessing’s illuminative critique, they require pre-knowledge of the contexts that are brought together in the moment of Witz. First, they must be conscious of the real circumstances that precede the critique, the motives behind Lessing’s condemnation of the Der nordische Aufseher. Since the cited example of Witz is embedded in an extended critique of the journal that stretches across four Literaturbriefe, the necessary background details are supplied by the context in which the passage appears. In addition, readers must have some prior acquaintance with the signifiers Lessing selects (Venus and Minerva) to incarnate the aspects of his argument. Because these deities from Roman mythology are not further identified in the text itself, readers must bring what they know of these figures to the text. Certainly, the educated middle-class readership of such journals as the Literaturbriefe would have been familiar with these central figures of classical mythology. Nonetheless, the success of Witz inevitably relies on the recipient’s ability to spontaneously locate the connection between the associated items, to find the moment of similarity that first provoked the author to make the association. It was thus imperative that an author always consider his audience and the derivation of the composite elements in his application of Witz. Another example of the characteristically incisive Witz in Lessing’s journalistic prose occurred in 1759 in a critical analysis of the language Johann Jakob Dusch uses in his “Schilderungen der Natur.” Lessing quotes a passage in which Dusch’s narrator addresses his lover Doris: ‘Uns beide, o Doris, wird der Tod dahin führen, wo unsere Väter seit der Sündflut schlafen. Wir werden nicht gegen dieses allgemeine Gesetz der Sterblichkeit murren, nicht zittern, unsern Tod zu sehen. Aber wollte der Himmel uns einen Wunsch gewähren, so sollte kein Auge den Verlust des andern beweinen! Eine Stunde sollte unser Leben schließen; zugleich sollte in einem Seufzer unser Atem entfliehen.’ (V,130) Lessing then casts a critical eye on the imprecision in Dusch’s phraseology: “Nun ja doch, ja; wir merken es wohl, daß von dem lieben Paare keines das andere überleben will. Aber sagen dem ohngeachtet die Worte [. ..] nicht etwas ganz anders? [. . .] [N]ur alsdann, wenn man das Unglück hat, einäugig zu werden, beweinet ein Auge den Verlust des andern.” The intended import of the narrator’s statement is presumable within the given context, Lessing concedes. However, its awkward grammar makes the declaration semantically ambiguous; it contains a potential second meaning not intended by Dusch. Lessing generates Witz by identifying a latent duality of meaning in the phrasing. He exposes this second possible, absurd meaning, and exploits it to the end of deriding Dusch.14 Lessing’s Witz does not end here, however. He fosters his intentional misunderstanding of the ambiguously constructed statement: “Und auch für dieses Unglück bewahre ihn der Himmel! Denn eine einäugige Doris, und ein einäugiger Liebhaber sind freilich ein trauriger Anblick. Besonders wenn ein witziger Freund auch nicht einmal sagen könnte:—Puer, lumen quod habes concede puellae! / Sic tu caecus Amor, sic erit illa Venus” (V,131).15 The epigram excerpt Lessing introduces here in association with Dusch’s “Schilderungen” already itself contains Witz. It makes an unstated insinuation about the beauty, or rather the lack thereof, of the
14 Cf. Gunter E. Grimm, “‘O der Polygraph!’: Satire als Disputationsinstrument in Lessings literaturkritischen Schriften,” Mauser and Saße 263. 15 This excerpt from Girolamo Amaltheo’s epigram is translated in Jörg Schönert’s commentary to the Literaturbriefe: “Lieblicher Knabe, gib die Augen, die dein sind, dem Mädchen, / Du wirst dann sein ein erblindeter Amor, und sie eine Venus” (V,853). 12 girl by singling out sightlessness as the shared similarity between the blind boy and the god of love. The epigram suggests that the boy might offer his only remaining eye to the girl. This would elevate the boy to the status of Amor—the god of love, who was often depicted in antiquity as a boy with a blindfold—and the girl to a beautiful Venus, since the boy, once unable to see, would be incapable of observing how unattractive she might be. Taking Dusch’s words in their unintended meaning, namely that the lovers might become one-eyed, Lessing then implies that the young lover in Dusch’s narrative might follow the advice of the epigram, should the unfortunate circumstance come to fruition. By conjuring up such ludicrous images from the misspoken words of Dusch, Lessing succeeds with his Witz in transforming a solemn love episode into something seemingly absurd. It is a “witziger Freund” who might be able to see the analogy between the situation of Dusch’s lovers and the content of the epigram, between the pair of Doris and the narrator and the couple Venus and Amor and provide the lamentable situation with a breath of comic relief. It is a witziger Lessing who uses both the semantic instability of the “Schilderungen” and the imported epigram to imbue Dusch’s text with altered meaning, escalating his minor inconsistency to massive dimensions and making him the object of public ridicule. Like his lyric production, the prose of Lessing’s literary criticism to 1760 reveals that the microstructural type of Witz that occurs as a sub-element of a text serves manifold purposes. It can vividly illuminate the nature of an abstract concept, superseding the difficulty of finding apt words to describe it narratively, as seen Lessing’s in explication of Witz from Das Neueste aus dem Reiche des Witzes. Witz can be engaged to supply supporting evidence for a particular viewpoint and can draw attention to an issue of an author’s choosing. It can unearth barely discernible ambiguities or first create them, and it can find correlations never before detected. Witz can also entertainingly criticize. When the issue at hand is writing itself, as it is in some of the examples cited above, Witz becomes at once the medium of expression and the model of a more effective form. Lessing uses Witz to passively instruct his audience in the correctness or unsuitability of certain communicative styles. Having been surreptitiously made aware of the ineptness of Dusch’s language, readers would become more aware of the words they used to convey their ideas so as not to become, like Dusch, the object of others’ ridicule. Witz thus represents a superior expressive form and is at the same time mobilized to advance the status of the German language, which seemed substandard to many eighteenth-century observers when compared with other European tongues. Although in the Hamburgische Dramaturgie Lessing’s doubts about the universal applicability of Witz first become palpable, he nonetheless continues to use it in the text of the dramaturgy itself. In the familiar 30th Stück, where Lessing distinguishes between Witz and Genie, is an example of Witz employed to the end of explicating the very nature of Witz: [. . .] Faden [sic] so durch einander zu flechten und zu verwirren, daß wir jeden Augenblick den einen unter dem andern verlieren [. . .]: das kann er, der Witz; und nur das. Aus der beständigen Durchkreuzung solcher Fäden von ganz verschiedenen Farben, entstehet denn eine Kontextur, die in der Kunst eben das ist, was die Weberei Changeant nennet: ein Stoff, von dem man nicht sagen kann, ob er blau oder rot, grün oder gelb ist; der beides ist, der von dieser Seite so, von der andern anders erscheinet; ein Spielwerk der Mode, ein Gaukelputz für Kinder. (IV,368-69) The passage illuminates two essential aspects of Witz: its material quality and its ambiguous nature. Looking back at the examples of Lessing’s Witz examined thus far, it becomes apparent 13 that these two distinctions come to define two very different types of Witz that are evident throughout Lessing’s works. On the one hand, by virtue of its structure, Witz can make abstract meanings materialize for the reader through the vivid imagery it invokes. Of the examples cited above, the Anacreontic poem “Die Diebin,” the epigrams “Der Schuster Franz” and “Auf Lorchen,” his delineation of the “Reich des Witzes,” the wild beard and temple-hut analogies, and his critique of Der Nordische Aufseher all invoke such visual associations to concretize abstract ideas for the reader. On the other hand, the constituent threads of Witz are woven together such that a single explicit meaning cannot be derived from a text, like an iridescent fabric whose colors shift with changes in light. Witz manifests itself in this form in the lied “Die drei Reiche der Natur,” in the epigrams “Frau Trix” and “An einen Lügner,” the review on the “Nutzen” of periodicals, and the condemnation of Dusch. Hence, Witz can be used to serve opposite ends—to lend ideas lucidity through metaphor or to destabilize meaning through polysemy. In this particular passage, it is employed to clarify (and not obscure) the essence of Witz. These two species of Witz, the novel use of concrete imagery and ambiguity, are the same two types that characterize the application of Witz in Lessing’s epigrams and that he mentions in his epigram treatise. It will be seen throughout the following chapters that these two broad categories come to define two distinct types of Witz. It is very this duality that will help chronicle the eventual divorce of Witz from the realm of aesthetics and its increasing association with the comical. From this point on, I will denote these specific subtypes of Witz, illuminative association/metaphor and polysemy, as Witz1 and Witz2 respectively. When referring to Witz as a general aesthetic category, I will continue to employ the term Witz. Lessing’s iridescent fabric analogy occurs in the same installment of the Hamburgische Dramaturgie in which he so vehemently rejects the use of Witz as a structural basis for the tragedy. In his discussion of Cronegk’s Olint und Sophronia, also a tragedy, Lessing likewise disapproves of the author’s use of murky conundrums: “Leider sucht er uns [. . .] öfters gefärbtes Glas für Edelsteine, und witzige Antithesen für gesunden Verstand einzuschwätzen” (IV,242). Tinted glass, like “witzige Antithesen,” can be construed as something more valuable than it truly is. Cronegk tries to pass off ambiguous plays on words as moral maxims. Lessing uses one type of Witz here, the illuminative variety (Witz1), to express an aversion toward the other kind of Witz (Witz2)whose products are as an indeterminate “Changeant.” He gives an example from Cronegk’s drama: “‘Der Himmel kann verzeihn, allein ein Priester nicht’” (IV,242). The Witz2 lies in the potential for two quite different meanings in the one statement. Especially when spoken on the stage, it is becomes unclear whether “Priester” is meant to be a subject or a direct object: Is it supposed to mean that heaven can forgive everyone except a priest? Or that heaven can forgive, but a priest cannot? The grammatical ambiguity of the spoken adage, which would be acceptable in an epigram, is inappropriate in the tragedy, and especially when touted as authoritative wisdom. Judging from the text of the dramaturgy, it would seem that Lessing now rejects the use of this ambiguous type of Witz (Witz2) for his published prose writing, too. The Witz that Lessing continues to use in the text of the dramaturgy overwhelmingly fulfills a metaphorical, elucidatory function. With Witz1, he dismantles Voltaire’s critique of Thomas Corneille’s Le Comte d’Essex: “Es gehört mit unter die Schwachheiten des Herrn von Voltaire, daß er ein sehr profounder Historikus sein will. Er schwang sich also auch bei dem Essex auf dieses sein Streitroß, und tummelte es gewaltig herum. Schade nur, daß alle die Taten, die er darauf verrichtet, des Staubes nicht wert sind, den er erregt” (IV,335). The historical account of the real Count Essex is 14
Voltaire’s warhorse (“Streitroß”), and his logging of all of the misrepresentations of fact in the tragedy the deeds (“Taten”) he has committed. Yet all of these historical inaccuracies Voltaire points out are so inconsequential that Lessing deems futile the effort Voltaire expended cataloging them. They appear especially insignificant in light of Lessing’s express preference for poetic truth over historical precision. Lessing also uses Witz1 to emphasize the need for a natural progression of events in a drama. The sudden death of the main characters at the conclusion of Cronegk’s tragedy leads Lessing to recall another drama in which the perfectly healthy protagonist unexpectedly expires. In the theater “fragte ein Zuschauer seinen Nachbar: Aber woran stirbt sie denn? — Woran? Am fünften Akte; antwortete dieser. In Wahrheit; der fünfte Akt ist eine garstige böse Staupe, die manchen hinreißt, dem die ersten vier Akte ein weit längeres Leben versprachen” (IV,241). The flow of the dramatic plot is interrupted by the poor mechanics of production and the character falls victim to the deficient talents of her poet-creator. The Witz1 lies in the characterization of the fifth act of a drama as a fatal illness. A series of analogies aids Lessing in explaining the difficulty involved in adapting elements of Shakespeare’s drama to a French-inspired play. Shakespearean historical tragedy compared with the tragedy of French Classicism is as “ein weitläuftiges Frescogemälde gegen ein Migniaturbildchen für einen Ring.” Only a face, an individual figure, or a very small group may be extracted from a vast canvas for transfer onto a miniscule ring surface. A single idea from a Shakespeare play would have to be modified to fill entire scenes or acts in a drama fashioned in the tradition of French Classicism. “Denn wenn man den Ärmel aus dem Kleide eines Riesen für einen Zwerg recht nutzen will, so muß man ihm nicht wieder einen Ärmel, sondern einen ganzen Rock daraus machen” (V,572). Lessing’s second analogy, like the first, illuminates the contrasting greatness of Shakespeare and the diminutive quality of French tragedy and it divulges that tailoring is required to transform material cut from the former to fit the needs of the latter. A poet whose alteration is successful need not fear allegations of plagiarism: “Die meisten werden in dem Faden die Flocke nicht erkennen, woraus er gesponnen ist” (V,572). If woven correctly into the new context, the thread will not betray its origin. This third metaphor takes up the reference to fabric already awakened in the second. Lessing employs each of these three analogies based on Witz1 to concretely convey his ideas about the fashioning of Shakespearean tragedy into a drama of the French classical type. Despite Lessing’s rejection of certain uses of Witz by 1767, most notably as a global structuring principle for the tragedy, he continues to employ it in his prose. The examples found in the dramaturgy are conspicuously for the purposes of illumination, are structurally Witz1, and do not rely on ambiguity (Witz2) for their effect. Before assuming that an increased wariness of Witz on Lessing’s part was responsible for his more restricted use of it there, it must be recalled that in the dramaturgy, Lessing fundamentally rejects Witz specifically as a basis of macrostructural unity. As seen in the Anacreontic poems examined above, and as will be seen in the following two chapters, the Witz globally applied to lend poetic unity there could be of either type. “Die Diebin” uses Witz1 as its structural basis, while “Die drei Reiche der Natur” relies on Witz2. Moreover, the difference in the conditions under which Lessing produced his Hamburgische Dramaturgie and his earlier journal reviews could help explain the …
it is essential to examine the circumstances that contributed to the differences between the Hamburgische Dramaturgie and his earlier journal reviews. Lessing was hired in 1766 by the new national theater in Hamburg as an in-house critic. Because engaged directly by the theater to 15 publicly discuss the performances there, he owed the institution his allegiance. Moreover, unlike his early literary reviews and his contributions to the Literaturbriefe, which were published anonymously, the installments of the dramaturgy were explicitly attributed to Lessing’s authorship. These circumstances could certainly help explain his avoidance of acerbic criticism, which he had often accomplished elsewhere through the application of ambiguity. The dramaturgy thus takes on a different tone than his earlier literary reviews. In the treatise on the drama, he often launches into lengthy narrations of plots and uses the performances as an occasion for propagating his dramatic theory. A contemporary review even faulted the dramaturgy for embarking on extended theoretical deliberations and devoting more space to digressions than to discussions of the performed works.16 This is not to say that Lessing was wholly uncritical in his theatrical reviews; the criticism he exercises is rather more constructive than caustic. In the examples from the Hamburgische Dramaturgie cited above, he uses Witz to vividly convey the erroneousness of certain approaches to literary production. In their stead, he seeks to promote poetic over historical truth, the organic development of dramatic events, and the proper manner of synthesizing elements of poetic models into a new work. To this end, Lessing applies illuminative Witz; the kind of Witz that confounds fixed meanings (Witz2) is wholly absent.
Laokoon? epigram theory?
DISTINGUISH BETWEEN PRODUCTION / TEXT / RECEPTION
deconstruct Given the experimental nature of the venture, AMBIGUOUS WITZ: ILLUMINATIVE WITZ: This is not a bringing together of disparates IN the text, but the infusion of a text element with something outside the text, as in a metaphor. (Witz as a principle of macrostructure of works uses elements in the text. But now the genre differentiation comes into play. Not suitable in tragedy.)
4.4 Private Correspondence? If Witz was to be used to convey material more vividly to a broad public, then what role, if any, did it play in Lessing’s private letters. If censorship played a role
What about works
Ch. 4 conclusion. Ambiguity acceptable form in epigrams and also in his literary criticism, at least before 1760. Witz as a communicative form. Ambiguity could be used to “say” something and at the same time to leave it unsaid, to imply. Appropriate in his anonymously published literary criticism and to the end of the epigram. Unnecessary in private correspondence, no fear of censor.
16 The two-part review appeared in the Deutsche Bibliothek der schönen Wissenschaften 9 and 13 (1769). Excerpts are printed in the commentary of Lessing’s Werke, vol. 4, 855-60. 16
END?? It is arguable that the various attempts to characterize Lessing’s style or manner of thinking can be placed under the rubric of his own Witz conception. “Lessing’s Denkprinzip”
See the binders on language and style. “List der Kritik”, Gobel, etc.
The clarifying function and obscuring function of Witz, which correspond to the categories of novel association and ambiguity from the epigram theory, … illuminative and polysemous…. are the two forms of Witz that crystallize from Lessing’s oeuvre. In the following chapters, these will be referred to as Witz1and Witz2, or illuminative and polysemous Witz respectively
Minerals were characterized by growth, plants by growth and life, and animals by growth, life, and sensation. originality novelty with novel messages different concept of originality
This observation illuminates Witz as a subjective, creative ability, although Witz encompasses more than the combination of // extractions from extant literary texts. In the following, the focus is primarily on the products and reader reception of those products, because that is where Witz is most observable.