The Paideia of Freedom: Beauty and the Politics of Sensually Recognized Freedom in the Works of Friedrich Schiller
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The Paideia of Freedom: Beauty and the Politics of Sensually Recognized Freedom in the Works of Friedrich Schiller Joshua Johnson for Canadian Political Science Association Annual General Meeting, Calgary, 2016 (Rough Draft) Introduction Before he murders his fiancé, and before he kills his father, and still before he levels an entire city in a blaze of fire, before all of this, Karl of Schiller’s the Robbers is a romantic. He is, one is entitled to say, the consummate romantic. He is physically beautiful. He is charismatic. He ignites the passions of petty criminals and the virtuous alike, as he effortlessly evokes love from the both. He nourishes himself on the ballads of ancient heroes while lamenting the loss of an era of grandeur. He is adventurous, dynamic, and passionate. He speaks in high flown rhetoric for justice, freedom, and fraternity. And Karl, the consummate romantic, is a murderer of monstrous proportions. By treating Schiller’s play the Robbers as a companion piece to his “Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man,” (herein referred to as the “Aesthetic Letters,”) this paper seeks to clarify the sometimes frustratingly ambiguous function of aesthetics by suggesting a perennial problem facing the pursuit of freedom on the stage of modernity: the emergence of a character doubly capable of extraordinary moral dignity and extraordinary evil. Seeking a philosophic and psychological account of this problem in the “Aesthetic Letters,” this paper highlights Schiller’s treatment of human reason as tragically complicit in a crisis wherein the promising emergence of Kantian humanism finds an unexpected doppelganger in the political impulse towards self-actualization through self- negation. It is against this problem that Schiller’s own aesthetic project is presented as an attempt to redirect our longing for freedom towards sensually positive and expressive forms of becoming. The aesthetic is therefore treated primarily as an attempt to correct through beautification an overly rationalistic concept of freedom, rather than offering any direct cause- and-effect relationship between beauty and freedom. This paper begins with a brief treatment of the central protagonists of the Robbers, Karl and Franz, in order to bring to view the disquieting potential implicit in the dynamic and (in the case of Karl) inspired rhetoric of freedom. From the terrible outcome of Karl’s attempt to liberate himself from his humiliating subjugation to an often imperfect world, this paper then touches briefly on Schiller’s own relationship with the French Revolution before engaging an exegesis on the “Aesthetic Letters.” Here, reason is cast as something of a tragic hero in its own right, articulating humanity as an end in itself while simultaneously, through the interplay of Joshua Johnson The Paideia of Freedom CPSA 2016 our dynamic drives, opening the way to a character type who seeks self-mastery through self- negation. With this depiction of the moral fanatic in view, Schiller’s “aesthetic turn” is then considered as an attempt to rectify this problem through the reconfiguring of our concept of freedom to correspond to an idea of beauty wherein sensual longing is given proper place within a rationally acceptable ideal of perfection. The character anticipated by this ideal is seen to relate to human beings as fully anthropological (that is, moral and sensual) subjects rather than merely moral objects. Finally, this paper will touch upon the manner in which fine art may be considered a necessary (though hardly sufficient) aid in bringing about and securing this form of relationship to the world. Freedom Staged: A Dramatis Personae in The Robbers We are introduced to the beautiful and terrible Karl through his younger brother Franz, who waits upon his ailing father, the Count Moor, bringing him news of the former’s scandalous exploits abroad. The Count is duly heartbroken upon hearing the news, but from Franz’s asides we learn that the news has been fabricated with the intention of moving the father’s hand towards disowning Karl.1 Confident of his plan’s success, Franz explains his motives in soliloquy. He is, assumedly, doing it for the money; he stands to gain a great deal of power and fortune by assuming the role of direct heir to the Count. But Franz’s antipathy towards his older brother goes deeper, for it is not simply that Franz wishes he had been born before Karl so much that he wishes Karl had never been born.2 Karl, we learn, is beautiful. He is charismatic and loveable, and the virtuous and the rogue alike are drawn to his presence. Franz, on the other hand, is fully aware of his own ugliness. Physically, he is hideous. He doubts his father’s love at all when compared to the doting he bestows upon Karl, and Karl himself seems largely indifferent to his younger brother. His physical defects are accompanied with an impotence of character, and in short, nature has humiliated Franz in proportion that it has blessed Karl.3 But while this has left Franz “resentful of nature,” it has by no means made him vengeful towards nature. Quite the contrary since, by giving Karl everything and Franz nothing, nature has provided Franz an unexpected insight: a man’s worth is not determined by what nature gives but in what he can take. Thus he declares, “each man has the same right to the greatest and the least; claim destroys claim, impulse destroys impulse, force destroys force. Might is right and the limits of our strength our only law.”4 Rather than, say, lament the arbitrariness of the convention of primogeniture, Franz celebrates his own cleverness for having recognized the fact that all conventions are arbitrary insofar as they serve the interests of the stronger. He pushes this observation to its most radical conclusion, asserting that all relationships that bind human beings with one another must be based in convention, even those that appear rooted in human feeling. Thus, just as an honourable reputation is merely “valuable coin,” so too is human conscience reduced to “an excellent scarecrow, to keep sparrows from the cherry-trees.”5 1 Friedrich Schiller, The Robbers, trans. F.J. Lamport, (London: Penguin Books, 1979), 1:1, 25-32. 2 Ibid., 1:1, 33 3 Ibid., 1:13, 2-34. 4 Ibid., 1:1,33. 5 Ibid., 1:1, 33. 2 Joshua Johnson The Paideia of Freedom CPSA 2016 Most significant to Franz’s purposes, of course, is how this insight penetrates the moral obscurity of filial love. Fraternity is simply a misleading term that designates accidental proximity, and paternal love is, at bottom, the vanity of a father, a sort of self-love extended to the inevitable product of a carnal act itself unworthy of any specifically moral celebration.6 Subjected to this unrelentingly materialistic logic, natural right is reduced to an empty void into which Franz is free to assert his own will, a will that has no legitimate authority outside of its own self-referential desires. Ourselves privy to Franz’s plan, we are perhaps surprised to find in the following scene that Karl is, in fact, mired in a life of scandal. Franz’s rendition of events has been greatly exaggerated, Karl being no womanizer, and certainly no murderer. But he has been squandering his father’s money, racking up debts, and is precariously veering towards the wrong side of the law by trying his hand at pranks that border on criminal scams.7 We meet a man who has been living for pleasure and for the moment, and like Franz, a man who sets himself against convention. But for Karl, the counterpoint to convention is not self-interest and cunning, but rather the sincerity of nature and freedom. It is as though Rousseau himself has assumed a stage persona as he trumpets his love for Plutarch and the ancients in general, while decrying his as an age of petty hypocrites, whose spirits are so sapped that “the dregs of a beer- barrel must help to propagate mankind.”8 The grandeur of his spirit and imagination cannot abide the confinements of his surroundings: ...the law has cramped the flight of eagles to a snail’s pace. The law never yet made a great man, but freedom will breed a giant, a colossus... Give me an army of fellows like me to command, and I’ll turn Germany into a republic that will make Rome and Sparta look like nunneries.9 Karl’s bitterness towards “the law” in general is rendered slightly comical when he lets slip that his frustrations originate from the sternness of debt collectors who have not been moved by tearful pleas for leniency and patience. Karl, contra Franz, has learned to expect compassion when he needs it; he is owed kindness and decency, fairness is his right. A sort of personal tantrum this may be, but it is a tantrum that lacks hypocrisy. From what we learn through others, especially Amalia, Karl is a kind and compassionate man himself. He is far from being a saint, but he is a fair man. He therefore expects from the world only to the same degree that he gives to the world. This is Karl’s frame of mind when he expresses shame at his wayward exploits and commits to returning to his father’s home and his fiancés embrace. Thus we also find Karl in a transition towards maturity. He acknowledges his sins committed in the heat of moment, not helped by the heat of wine, but is certain that the sincerity of his repentance, in form of confession, itself assures his forgiveness: “I did not conceal the slightest detail from him, and where there is honesty, there too is compassion and a helping hand.”10 He is prepared to make and honour new commitments in life, to assume his proper role as dutiful son and loving husband, and far from embracing the lawlessness previously hinted, Karl submits rather to a different order of law.