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Xerox University Microfilms 300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106 ->4-~ , & I

I 75-26,661 £ I SGROI, C elia Ann, 1949- | GEORG HEYM'S METAPHYSICAL LANDSCAPE.

| The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1975 | Language and Literature, modern

Xerox University Microfilms, Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106

t h is dissertation h a s b e e n microfilmed e x a c t l y a s r e c e i v e d . GEORG HEYM'S METAPHYSICAL LANDSCAPE

DISSERTATION

Presented in partial fulfillment of the Requirements for

the Degree Doctor of Philosophy of the Graduate

School of The Ohio State University

By

Celia A. Sgroi, B. A. , M. A.

^1/ itU *v *•»'• *v» *r» •(*

The Ohio State University

1975

Reading Committee: Approved by

Professor Hugo Bekker Professor David Miles Professor Wolfgang Fleischhauer VITA

F e b ru a ry 21,1949 ...... Born - Fulton, New York

1970 ...... B. A. , State University of New York, College of Oswego

1970-74...... University Fellow, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1971 ...... M. A. , The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1971-73; 1974-5 ...... Graduate Teaching Associate, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

Major Field: German literature and philosophy TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page VITA ...... ii

INTRODUCTION ...... 1

1. Features of Heym's Metaphysical Preoccupation . . . 4 2. Development of Heym's Creative Attitudes and Poetic Idiom: Tradition, Key Images and Themes . 15 3. Ambivalence of Images: Heym's Figurative L a n g u a g e ...... 25

C hapter

I. COSMIC LA N D SC A PE ...... 35

1. Clouds 2. The Sun 3. The Stars 4. The Moon

II. INNER LANDSCAPE ...... 130

III. METAPHYSICAL S P A C E ...... 178

1. Heaven and Earth 2. Enclosed Space 3. Death and Dislocation

CONCLUSION ...... 226

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 230

*

iii INTRODUCTION

At the time of his death in 1912, Georg Heym was regarded by a

select group of avant-garde intellectuals in Berlin as a most promis­

ing literary talent. Beginning in 1910 the poet was an active contri­

butor to Die Aktion and other literary journals of the avant-garde,

and a frequent participant in the poetry readings of the "Neo-

pathetisches Cabaret", an organ of the radical literary group der

Neue Club. One volume of poetry, Der ewige Tag, appeared in May,

1911. When he died, however, Heym was still an obscure figure.

His unexpected, accidental death at the age of twenty-four made him the first great martyr of Expressionism. He was suddenly a genius, tragically cut down in first flower--and his literary associates sought to project Heym to the public according to their image of him: "ein

Kerl": rough and boisterous, vital, aggressive, a revolutionary and

social critic; a poet whose primary subject was the new urban land­

scape; a creator of grandiose, pathetic visions of war, flaming cities, disaster and doom. He was heralded as a visionary who had pro­ phesied the coming of the Great War.

After the first excitement died away, Heym was banished again into obscurity. In the last twenty years, however, there has been a revival of interest in Heym. He is now considered with Trakl and Benn

to stand at the forefront of German expressionist poets. The renewed

interest has made clear once again that Georg Heym is a mysterious

figure. His work is unfinished: his last, so-called "expressionist"

phase represents an enormously rapid and confusing development.

Over four hundred poems, a number of novellas and dramas, and

several essays stem from that period--all compressed into a span of

less than two years (March, 1910-January, 1912). Naturally, most

of the poems are drafts, sketches and fragments. Some of the

influences are obvious: Hblderlin, BUchner, Nietzsche, Baudelaire

and Rimbaud--and Stefan George, although Heym denied that asser­ tion vehemently and took every opportunity to vilify George and his followers. Heym left no theoretical writings, only his diaries and a few topical essays--and the reports of his friends and associates. And

it appears that those individuals may not have known or been able to appreciate the "real" Georg Heym. ^ After editing two collections of poems and publishing at least four lengthy evaluations of Heym's work in a period of twenty-five years, Kurt Pinthus announced in 1937 that his view of Heym had been mistaken. Before, Pinthus had called

Heym: "ein expressiver, explos iver Dichter: der sthmmige, derbe, unsentimentale Berliner barst und platzte stets von dichterischen

Visionen, die er in Verse, Erzhhlungen, Tagebiicher unermtidlich zu bannen suchte. " Heym owed his "tbnende, drbhnende, vokalreiche Strophen" to the influence of Baudelaire, Pinthus continues: "Aber

sphter entstrbmten ihm dann freiere Gedichte, und mit der gelBsteren

Form Itist sich auch sein gequfetltes Ich. Denn die bisher unverbf-

fentlichten TagebUcher zeigen, dass dieser kraftstrotzende,

wildgeniessende Kerl von Leid und Sehnsucht zertriimmert war, 2 zermartert vom Leben, von seiner Zeit und seinem Intellekt. "

The confusion about Heym persists. Because of the fragmentary

nature of his work, it is unlikely that the mystery surrounding his

nature and his intentions will ever be completely solved. But certain

aspects of Heym's work and his views demand critical attention. He is

no longer considered a great genius, but he is recognized as a pro­ mising young poet whose influence upon expressionist lyrics was con­

siderable, and whose works are filled with the energy, vitality, and will be expression which are decidedly lacking in many of his con­ temporaries.

One of the factors which contributed to Pinthus1 re evaluation of

Heym and his work was the discovery of a diary entry which Pinthus found both amazing and significant to an understanding of the poet:

", . . am allerunheimlichsten erschien uns Ordnern seines Nachlasses, dass Georg Heym in seinem Tagebuch plbtzlich das damals unzeit- gem&sse Bekenntnis und hellsichtige Selbstbekenntnis hingeschrienben hatte: 'Man kbnnte vielleicht sagen, dass meine Dichtung der beste

Beweis eines metaphysischen Landes ist, das seine schwarzen o Halbinseln weit herein in unsere flilchtigen Tage streckt. 1,1 This

remark about the metaphysical "Land" which Heym sought to illuminate

is still as surprising and fascinating today as it appeared to Pinthus

in 1937.

1. Features of Heym's Metaphysical Preoccupation

What do we mean when we speak of Heym's "metaphysical land­

scape"? The term is obviously derived from the poet's pronounce­ ment that his work provided "der beste Beweis eines metaphysischen

Landes. . . , das seine schwarzen Halbinseln weit herein in unsere 4 flilchtigen Tage streckt." This statement expresses a metaphysical preoccupation--perhaps even a metaphysical quest--in typical Heym

idiom: in a figurative language shaped primarily by concrete visual

im agery.

It is difficult to determine just what Heym meant by a "meta- physisches Land, " possibly because he may not have known himself.

But the formulation is nevertheless intriguing, partly because Heym's metaphysical preoccupation takes shape beyond already rejected tradi­ tional religious belief in an atmosphere of uncertainty, frustration, resentment, and pessimism bordering upon despair: "Mit wem k&mpfe ich eigentlich? Wo ist dieses Scheusal, das sichm ir niemals

C stellt? " Heym asked toward the end of his life. He began his fifth diary on the 10th of December, 1911, about a month before his death, 5

with a description of himself, of his condition: "Tagebuch des Georg

Heym. Der den Weg nicht weiss. Heym's personal uncertainty

existed on many levels, not least professionally, for his last few

diary entries deal extensively with his position as a poet, and with the

possibility of values and standards other than the sesthetic. One

short remark, however, reveals the poet's obsession with himself--

and his uncertainty--with characteristic paradox: "Niemand denkt

soviel Uber sich nach, wie ich. Niemand beureilt sich vielleicht so falsch. " 7

Time and again Heym examines the nature of existence as well as its value. He senses that behind the facade of nature, the universe, normal daily life, there are secrets which cannot be revealed. Above all, the purpose of existence and its justification, remain a riddle, and the result is anxiety, particularly the fear of death:

Ich und der Dichter. Und dies ganze Haus. Sind wir vielleicht ein Cttinend Schatten> Und ein Gedanke, wie ein ^Staub) geh&uft Im dunklen Hirne eines tollen Gottes,. Und wieder fliegend fort, so wie ein Wind. Denn warum schrecken uns so bittre TrUume Mit finstren Fingern durch die AbendrHume. Und warum greift uns plbtzliches Erschrecken Wo Totenkerze um die Bahre stecken, Oder wenn wir zur Nacht mit (uni. Wort) erwachen Und Schritte noch und hinten Stimmen lachen. ®

In this poem Heym indicates what is not solely a personal prob­ lem, nor merely the poet's concern, but the problem of humanity.

Heym no longer poses the question whether human existence has a value beyond itself; he assumes that it does not. He appears able to

accept the Nietzschean pronouncement that God is dead, but for Heym

the loss of the transcendent sphere diminishes man rather than liber­

ating him. We see this particularly in Heym's use of the m irror

motif, through which man--no longer the reflection of the divine

image--is reduced and distorted:

Die Menschen stehen um die Teiche oben, Und sehen schwankend sich im Grunde wieder, Mit Ktipfen schwach und lhcherlich verschoben. (1,417)

Heym's preoccupation with the inexplicable, especially in nature

and in the universe as a whole, reveals itself in an obsession with

cosmis forces and processes of a mysterious nature such as the movement of celestial bodies and the forces exerted upon man and his world, or in the habit of endowing some rather harmless natural oc­

currence with ominous meaning, as the coming of night in Halbdunkel schon (I, 485) and its effect upon the dying, or in the opening stanza of

Allerseelen:

Geht ein Tag ferne aus, kommt ein Abend. Brennt ein Stern in der HtJhe zue Nacht. Wehet das Gras. Und die Wege alle Werden in Dhmmrung zusammengebracht. (I, 446)

Such formulations consistently hint at a mysterious meaning behind the most commonplace occurrences. There exists, justbelow the surface of things, an ominous riddle which resists solution. Con­ sequently, Heym's work is filled with signs and omens, particularly 7

of impending doom, as in Die Menschen stehen vorwMrts in den

Strassen:

Die Menschen stehen vorwhrts in den Strassen Und sehen auf die grossen Himmelszeichen, Wo die Kometen mit den Feuernasen Um die gezackten Tiirme drohend schleichen. (I, 440)

or in Der Krieg I:

In den Gassen fasst es ihre Schulter leicht. Eine Frage. Keine Antwort. Ein Gesicht erbleicht. Und der Mhrkte runder Wirbel stockt zu Eis. Es wird still. Sie sehn sich um. Und keiner weiss. (I, 346)

Often, however, it is totally incomprehensivle, an obscure

threat expressed by the forces of nature which leaves man uneasy and

apprehens ive:

Doch ewig ist der Wind, der nimmer schweiget In dunklem Lande, herbstlich schon erbraunet, Der dunkle Bilder viel vortiber zeiget Und dunkle Worte fltichtig triibe raunet. (1,446)

Fremdes Wort wird in dem Sturm vernommen, Grosse Wolken sind im zu sehen. Die dort wohnen, sieht man, oft beklommen, An dem Gittertor voriibergehen. (I, 451)

The theme of death occurs more frequently in Heym's poetry than any other. The system of images and motifs connected with this theme is vast and multifaceted. In Was kommt ihr, weisse Falter the

poet warns: "Weh dem, der sterben sah. Er trhgt fUr immer/ Die

Weisse Blume bleiernen Entsetzens. " (I, 312) The poet's preoccupa­ tion with death is motivated by his need to determine whether there is a meaning to life. It has been suggested that Heym makes no real dis­

tinction between life and death in his world view. It is true that it is

frequently difficult to distinguish the living from the dead in his poems,

but there is definitely a distinction made between life and death.

Death is feared above all things, because it threatens to reveal the ultimate meaninglessness of existence. Death is the greatest mystery, both frightening and fascinating:

Wer schliesst uns auf die Lhnder nach dem Tode, Und wer das Tor der ungeheuren Rune. Was sehn die Sterbenden, dass sie so schrecklich Verkehren ihrer Augen blinde Weisse. (I, 312)

For Heym, man is mere matter, and the materiality of human beings is grossly and grotesquely exaggerated by the constant presen­ tation of illness, deformity, poverty, decay, and misery. Since man is matter, he can look forward to nothing but decay. With the loss of the transcendent sphere, man is devalued to his material self; he is an object like all other objects, with a subsequent loss of controlling posi­ tion in the world of things. Death is feared because life is so pitiful and disgusting, with nothing beyond it to give it meaning.

There is an almost baroque obsession with transience in Heym's poetry, but it is totally devoid of the spiritual comfort of a transcen- i dence. There is a constant emphasis upon the precariousness and fragility of the material world--and of man: 9

Alles ist hohl, und eine Totenmaske, Die man zerschlclgt, und nichts ist dann darinnen. Kein Atem und kein Blut, nur tBnern Scherben. Und fhdenziehend sitzen grosse Spinnen. (I, 462)

Wer stirbt, der setzt sich auf, sich zu erheben, Und eben hat er noch ein Wort gesprochen. Auf einmal ist er fort. Wo ist sein Leben? Und seine Augen sind wie Glas zerbrochen. (1,442)

The baroque tone is particularly strong in Was kommt ihr,

weisse Falter, in which the poet characterizes life in terms of

candleflames and ashes, and will-o-the-wisps in barren fields:

Was ist das Leben? Eine kurze Fackel Umgrinst von Fratzen aus dem schwarzen Dunkel Und manche kommen schon und strecken Die magren Hfelnde nach der Flamme.

Was ist das Leben? Kleines Schiff in Schluchten Vergessner Meere. Starrer Himmel Grauen. Oder wie nachts auf kahlen Feldern Verlornes Mondlicht wandert und verschwindet. (1,311)

In Die Morgue, Heym presents man eagerly seeking the meaning

of existence and the promise of eternity while inexorably thrown to­ ward death:

Wir, Ikariden, die mit weisser Schwinge Im blauen Sturm des Lichtes einst gebraust, Wir httrten noch der grossen TUrme Singen Da rtlcklings wir in schwarzen Tod gesaust.

Was fanden wir im Glanz der Himmelsenden? Ein leeres Nichts. Nun schlappt uns das Gebein, Wie einen Pfennig in den leeren HfeLnden Ein Bettler klappern lfelsst am Strassenrain. (1,476-7) 10

With Gottfried Benn, this nihilistic attitude introduces us to

the morgues and dissection tables, but Heym approaches the problem

differently. Heym's dead are not allowed to quietly rot; instead they

are aware and active in a kind of underworld, which is suspiciously

similar to the living world they have left. The dead are gathered to­

gether in a "Toten-Babylon, 11 or they travel endlessly through winter landscapes in search of an unknown goal, or they merely wait for the mysterious "Herr" who never comes to lead them on their final journey. In Die Morgue, the dead begin by proclaiming their

superiority over the living, only to fall prey to the growing apprehen­ sion that they have been duped:

Was wartet noch der Herr? Das Haus ist voll, Die Kammern rings der Karawanserei, Der Markt der Toten, der von Knochen scholl, Wie Zinken laut hinaus zur WUstenei.

Was kommt er nicht? Wir haben TUcher an Und Totenschuhe. Und wir sind gespeist. Wo ist der FUrst, der wandert uns voran, Des grosse Fahne vor dem Zuge reist?

Wo wird uns seine laute Stimme wehen? In welche DHmmerung geht unser Flug? Verlassen in der Einsamkeit zu stehen Vor welchqr leeren Himmel Hohn und Trug? (I, 477)

The anxious speculations of the dead in Die Morgue about their fate bring the reader finally back to matter and decay, and the ter­ rible elusiveness and fragility of man: 11

Werden wir sein, wie ein Wort von niemand gehbret? Oder ein Rauch, der flattert im Abendraum? Oder ein Weinen, das plbtzlich Freudige stbret? Oder ein Leuchter zur Nacht? Oder ein Traum?

Oder--wird niemand kommen? Und werden wir langsam zerfallen, In dem Gelhchter des Monds, Der hoch liber Wolken saust, Zerbrbckeln in Nichts, --Dass ein Kind kann zerballen Unsere Grbsse dereinst In der dhrftigen Faust. (1,478)

Heym's crisis-consciousness originates to a great degree from

his attitude toward his own time. He felt constricted and frustrated by

the social-historical situation of late Wilhelmine Germany, whose

arrogance and decadence he could not fail to notice. K. L. Schneider

summarizes Heym's reaction to his time in the following words:

Wenn man sich vergegenwhrtigt, dass Heyms wesentliche Schaffensperiode in den Zeitraum von 1910 bis 1912 fclllt, also in eine Zeit, die einerseits noch vbllig vom Fortschrittsoptimismus beherrscht, anderseits aber schon von einer geheimen, besonders in der jungen Generation wirkenden Unruhe ergriffen war, so wird mancher zunhchst befremdende Zug der Heymschen Lyrik verstbndlich. Der Kontrast zwischen der ausserordentlichen Selbstsicherheit des Menschen und seiner tatshchlichen Gefclhrdung musste fiir ein empfindlich reagierendes Gemiit, wie es Heym fraglos besass, notwendig unertrhglich werden.

Heym's hostile attitude toward his time was intensified further by his contact with the elitist Lebensphilosophie of the Neue Club. His devotion to Lebensphilosophie is apparent in much of his work, in­ cluding the essay Versuch einer neuen Religion (1909), and poems 12

such as Dionysos (1910). As G. Martens points out, the social

criticism of Heym's much-cited essay Eine Fratze (1911), in which the poet characterizes the malaise of his age and its possible cure, directly reflects the philosophical ideas and vocabulary which he ab­

sorbed from his colleagues in the Neue Club. ^ Under their influence,

Heym repudiated the anti-vital domination of existence by the

Bildungs-Philister and the established political and social forces, in favor of an elite whose superior genius, energy and achievement would create a regeneration and reaffirmation of life. The artistic elitism of the essay Uber Genie und Staat (1911) is also clearly in­ spired by these ideas.

Like so many of his contemporaries, Heym rebelled against the oppressive narrowness and decadence of his own time, when not only the masses, but also the superior individuals seemed reduced in stature and unable to achieve anything genuine and vital. Like many other young people of the time, Heym longed for the purifying effect of revolution or war, which would provide the opportunity for action and present the individual with the challenges which would free his crea­ tive energies. These sentiments are expressed powerfully by Heym in the poem G ebet: 13

Gebet

Grosser Gott, der du suf den Kriegsschleluchen sitzest. Vollbackiger, du, der den Atem der Schlacht kaut. Lass heraus wie Sturm gegen Morgen den Tod, Gib uns Herr, Feuer, Regen, Winter und Hungersnot.

Dass das Kriegshorn wieder im Lande schallt, Dass die Acker liegen mit Leichen voll,

poetry to the expression of disgust and impotence in the face of the

overwhelming decadence and inertia which he saw around him. His frustration is clearly expressed by the poem Unserer Zeit, which concludes with an example of the sort of paradox typical of his later poetry:

Unserer Zeit

Ein Lazarus, der schreit, dass man ihn decke, Der sich den Schorf von seinen Schwhren zerrt, So schlottert sie in ihrer Lumpendecke, Der Qual den grossen Bettlerrachen sperrt.

So zwischen die Jahrhunderte gebettet, In ewiger Blindheit, und in schwarzer Nacht, An eine grosse d3de angekettet, Die sich zermartert, was sie leidenmacht.

Durch ihre trocknen Adern, die zu dorren, Und wie ein Baum zu trocknen, sind verdammt, Treibt es Leiber, wie ein Strom verworren Von schwarzem Blut, das trlib ihr Herz verschlammt.

Ewig durch Dunkel, manche Hhnde greifen, Wie Fragezeichen, bleich und diinn, h ervor Und andre drohend, die vorilberschweifen, In einer Hblle, wo die Glut erfror. (I, 352) 14

It is apparent that, while Heym accepted many of the values of

the radical intellectuals of his time, he was also compelled to modify

them in accord with his own pessimism and frustrated ambitions.

Heym's remark that he exceeded Nietzsche and his other literary

idols by his superior vitality "im guten und im schlechten Sinne"^

reveals his inability to reconcile the opposing forces within him.

Heym's poetry presents more than social or philosophical preoccupa­

tions. It is the expression of profound doubt and uncertainty about the

value of existence itself. Ultimately, Heym's revolutionary attitudes

gave way to total despair--a state of mind characterized by Martens

as "das Eingespannt-sein zwischen Lebensenthusiasmus und

12 auswegloser Bedriickung. "

Heym's increasing pessimism is evident in his metaphysical

speculations:

Ohne Zweifel ist die Idee eines morallosen Schicksals tiefer als die eines moralischen--moralisch zu sein gezwungenen--Gottes. . . Viel eher ist die Idee eines bbsen Gottes oder eines bbsen Schicksals mbglich. Denn, alles was geschieht, ist und wird bbse. . . . Warum h< sich die Macht immer versteckt, warum zeigt Er sich nie, he? Weil er lieblos ist, kalt und stumm wie die Wolkenbilder, die ewig die der Erde abgewandten Kbpfe vor sich her tragen, als wilssten sie um ein schreckliches Geheimnis und milssten es durch alle Zeiten mit sich tragen zu einem dunklen unbekannten und weiten Ziel. ^

Here, too, the possibility that nature is hiding some terrible secret is expressed. That possibility clearly frightened and fascinated Heym. 15

2. Development of Heym's Creative Attitude and Poetic Idiom: Tradition, Key Images and Themes

Heym's early poetry was largely the expression of private emo­

tional experiences, in which the "I" predominated. The surviving

lyrics from the period 1899-1909 are characterized primarily by their

intense subjectivity and derivative nature. The earliest literary in­ fluences upon Heym were Goothe, the Romantics, Nietzsche, and

Htilderlin. Initially, however, Heym's literary models appear to have included many of the epigonal poets of his own time as well. In 14 15 his diary he mentions Bethge and an anthology by Hans Benzmann.

A dominant theme of the early lyrics is the neoromantic concept of the unification of the soul with the cosmos:

Hvmnus

Ihr brausenden Lichter Ich saus euch entgegen, Unendlichen Kosmos, Ihr heiligen Weiten, Meine Seele schwingt sich zu euch, zu euch empor, Das Sthubchen Erde bleibt zuriick, Und ich vergeh, ich vergeh in die Ewigkeit. (1902:1, 525)

Gebet

Ich trhum mich oft auf fernen Stern zurhck, Ich bin von fremden Weiten herverschlagen, Oft in die stillen Himmel schweift mein Blick, Wenn aus den Tiefen hell die Sterne ragen.

Wo ziehst du deine Kreise in dem All? Wo schwebst du unter tausend Sonnen? Dringt bis zu m ir dein Schimmerstrahl? Strtimt m ir dein gllihnder Lichtesbronnen? 16

Ich suche dich so he is s, O, lass dich finden, Du Strahl, der von der Heimat quillt! Fiihr mlch aus diistren Erdengrilnden Zum Licht, das all m ein Sehnen s'tillt! (1903:1, 529)

Zu dir, du Einer, will ich fahn Du grosser Geist des Alls. Ich zieh auf leuchtender Sternenbahn Ich zieh, ich zieh in die Ewigkeit. (1903:1, 530)

Sehnsucht

Wie glhnzend die Hbhen sich dehnen Weit in die blaue Feme. Zu ihnen fliegt mein Sehnen Hin zu dem Morgensteme.

Wohl hinter ihnen sich breitet Der lachende Weg zum GlUck Das endlos da hinten sich weitet. Ich finde ihn nicht zurlick. (1904:1, 533)

Another prominent feature of these early lyrics is a classically inspired sun-worship and Helios-cult, which were also popular in the literature and graphic arts of the time:

O grosser Helios, willst du scheiden in dein Grab, Wo stille Ruh ist und ewger Frieden, So nim m auch m ich m it dir hinab. (1902:1, 524)

Und dann beten wir zum Licht, Kniend in der Weihestunde Um die ewge Kraft der Schbnheit Filr das Deben, das ihr schuft, Alle Seelen beten wir In des grossen Gottes Bunde, Dass die junge Seele liebe Und durch Lieb den Tod bezwinge. (1904:1, 537) 17

Endlich Licht

Da sah ich dich Und alles schwieg in m ir Vor deinetn wunderbaren Licht, Das still in deinen Augen steht, Darin die Sonne untergeht, Darin die Stern ertrunken sind. Die trlibe Sehnsucht schwand, Als leis mich fasste deine Hand. Ich sog dein reines Licht in meine Brust Und ich ward mir bewusst Des Gtittermorgens. Nun fliesst das Licht In ewgem Wechsel fort, Von dir zu mir Von mir zu dir, Sieh immer lichter wird es um uns Und im m er nhher scheint uns Gott. (1904:1, 544)

Although he mentions Htilderlin early both in his poems and in

17 his diary, Heym's serious study of Htilderlin dates from late in

1906. In his diary Heym expressed his intense sympathy and identifi­ cation with Htilderlin, and summarized his neoromantic attitude toward the relationship of man and nature:

Eigentlich eingelesen habe ich mich erst in Htilderlin, ob gleich noch Hyperion, Empodekles und die Briefe ausstehen. Aber mit seinem Leben und seinem Geist bin ich innig vertraut. Immermehr festigt sich auch in m ir der Glaube an Helios, an das Licht, die Sonne, das ganze heilige Weltall. Oft breite ich nachts den Sternen oder Mittags und des stillen Abends der Sonne meine Arme entgegen und freue mich. So werden wir reifen, bitlhen, uns verschenken und lhchelnd scheiden, dies ist unser Glaube. (14.9.06:111,63)

Early Heym-lyrics, even the more somber ones, display the typical fluidity, color and highly decorative character of the literary Jugendstil tradition then in vogue:

Winte rwtLrts

Eben noch goldiger Maienglanz Heute schon fallender Blhtter Tanz. Miide senkt sich der welke Mohn Leise taumeln die Flocken schon.

Und ein grosses Schweigen Hiillt die Weiten ein. Tod mit seiner Geigen Schreitet auf dem Rain. (1903:1,532)

E rste JLiebe

Kaum glitt die Sonne durch das Grlin Der weisssthmmigen, kiihlen Buchen. t/ber das brhunlich vermodernde Laub Rieselndes Wasser tropfte. Ein Buntspecht klopfte. Wilde Rosen liberrankten Einen Flimmersonnenstrahl. Ich brach dir eine, Du kiisstest sie. (1904:1, 541)

Allreihen

Der Traum ist schwer: Ferne die grauen Himmel verbleichen. tfber das rauchende Moor Schatten schleichen.

Auf feuchtem Sumpf Tanzen grllne Flammen. Auf dem Hiinengrab Schlagen sie lodernd zusammen.

Um das Grab Schlingen den Reihn Wissende Geister Den Toten zu weihn. (1904:1, 533) 19

1906 appears to have been a year of significant literary impres­

sions for the schoolboy Heym. In addition to his intensification of

interest in Hblderlin, he also read Nietzsche's Also sprach

Zarathustra for the first time and was deeply impressed by it. A

diary entry reveals his enthusiasm for and identification with

Nietzschean ideals and values:

Und dennoch. Seine Lehre ist gross. Was man dagegen sagen mag, sie giebt unserem Leben einen neuen Sinn, dass wir Pfeile der Sehnsucht seien nach dem Ubermen- schen, dass wir alles Grosse und Erhabne in uns nach unsern besten Krhften ausgestalten und so Sprossen werden auf der Leiter zum ttbermenschen. War nicht Goethe ein solcher? O ein schwerer Tropfen zu sein, in der dunklen Wolke, die den Blitzstrahl birgt, der den l!jbermenschen auf die Erde schleudert. Ferner und ferner sehen lernen, sich wegwenden vom Augenblick und dem tibermenschen zu leben, lehrt uns Zarathustra. Und diese Lehre kann uns auf uns allein stellen. Ich las ihn und wurde gefangen, ich, der ich frtiher Angst vor diesem Buche hatte. Und eine Stelle ist mir die liebste geworden und eine grosse Tafel an meinem Wege, der sich verlor in das Niedere. O dass es mir gelingen mtichte, mein Leben nun umzugestalten, um ein Pfeil zum llfbermenschen zu w erden. (17. 2. 06:111, 44)

Particularly characteristic of Heym is the storm image in the

Nietzsche-passage. Clouds were a favorite image during Heym's en­ tire creative life, and his nature-animism endowed natural upheavals such as the storm with a metaphysical significance which was still being expressed years later when many of his other views had changed radically: 20

Eben zieht das Gewitter auf. Ich bin dann immer von ganzem Herzen froh und mein Herz jauchzt, wenn ich den Donner htire, wie wenn mein Gott zu m ir spricht. (30. 7. 10:111, 140)

Interestingly, as Heym's Htilderlin veneration was reaching an

extreme in late 1906, the frequency and intensity of the neoromantic

sentiments and hymns to Helios in his lyrics were beginning to

diminish. It has been suggested that 1906 marks a complete change in

Heym's creative attitude. A diary entry from August 1906 reflects

a new turn in his poetic development:

Der Gedanke nur kurz, der mir heut kam. Frliher machte ich meine Gedichte aus unklaren inneren Stimmungen, die sich mir zu den Gedichten verklhrten. Sie waren alle lhngere Zeit in mir, ich filhlte sie in mir, ehe ich sie gestalten konnte. Mir fMilt heute auf, dass ich 2 Gedichte, die ich heut machte, auch das gestrige, nur aus einem pltitzlichen, zuffetlligen Erscheinen ihres Gegenstands, ihres Inhalts vor meinen Augen geschaffen habe. Gestern sah ich einen voll mit Friichten beladenen Zweig, heute hbrte ich pltitzlich den Regen auf den Bhumen, dann sah ich den Weinstock aus der Erde dringen. Es entstanden wie von selbst davon 3 Gedichte. Frtiher war es ab er schtiner, wenn ich m it m ir ringen m usste. (Ill, 62)

As Schneider points out, a significant change in Heym's attitude toward the entire nature-landscape in his lyrics was stimulated by the poet's move to Wiirzburg in 1907. From then on, his nature land­ scape no longer depended upon clichds he had borrowed from other poets, but was based primarily "auf unmittelbarem Erleben der 2i frUnkischen und thiiringischen Landschaft. " The exaggerated 21

neoromantic attitude that the subject created the universe out of him­

self was superseded in Heyxn's case by actual observation of the world

of nature. Heym began thereby to develop what Schneider acutely

characterizes as "die unvergleichliche Kraft des Sehens. . . , die auch

sphter in der Phase der visionhren Auflockerung seiner Bilder stets

Grundlage seines Dichtens blieb. " 7 7

The development which Heym underwent during the period

roughly from 1906 to 1910 was not, as Krispyn claims, a transition

from pure subjectivism to "the sublimation of all private feelings to

the level of a universal existential principle. " 7 3 What did occur was

a radical change in perspective and the emergence of a new emphasis

upon perception:

Trotz aller Attaquen, die ich noeh durchmachen muss, bin ich jetzt ziel glilcklicher, wie die Jahre vorher. Den ich habe gelernt, zu schauen, ohne zu wllnschen, einfach zu betrachten. Wie ich vielleicht 17 Jahr alt war, hoffte ich auf das Gltlck, auf etwas femes, w esenloses, eine Chimfelre. Jetzt bin ich 23, ich habe gelernt, mit den Dingen zu rechnen, und auf ihrer Bltisse und Torheit zu stehen und allem eine neue Schbnheit abzugewinnen. NatUrlich ist das noch nicht die Krone, aber es ist das Fundam ent. (17. 11. 10:111,150)

If anything, the poet's subjectivity appears intensified in the

later phases of his poetry, which express first and foremost the

alienation of the subject from the world. This alienation was so pro­ found as to eventually submerge the lyric "I" almost completely, but

that does not signify a lessening of subjective feeling, only a 22 difference in the mode of expression. And although the change in

Heym's creative attitude was a significant one, it did not mark a com­ plete volte-face on the poet's part. Images and themes which pre­ dominate in the "expressionist" poetry appear sporadically throughout

Heym's early work, as the following examples indicate:

Alien or hostile nature:

Grau verhangen ist der Himmel, Und die wehenden Todesschleier StUrmen hin im Windgewimmel Und sie spiegeln sich im W eiher. (1902:1, 521)

Novembertag

Die Bhume auf der Htihe entlaubt, Die Felder ttd und kahl, Die Matten ihres Schmucks beraubt Der Himmel bleiern und fahl.

Ein Moderdunst steigt aus dem Tal, Das wie im Sarge ruht, Es ruft mir zu "Es war einmal. Es starb, was einst dir gut. " (1902:1,526-7)

Die Wolken standen, schwarze Tiirme, Ragende Berge in der Runde. Der bleiche Himmel barg die StUrme Schwer lastend auf dem dil'stren Grunde. (1905:1, 596)

The city:

Hoch ragt der Neubau in dem Abendwind Der sacht vom Flusse kommt gezogen. Welle um Welle verrauschet sind. In die D hm m erung fliessen die Wogen. (1904:1, 534) 23

Viel Tiirme ragen aus dem grauen Meer, Die hoch bedachten HMuser Stehn gedrhngt, Schmalbriistig, eins von andern elngeengt, Und Gass und Ghsschen Lrren kreuz und quer.

Vergangenheit driickt hart auf diese Stadt Und Friedhofsstille. Jeder frohe Daut Halit dumpf zurlick. Das kalte Schwelgen braut Fast hbrbar hier und herzerschlaffend matt.

Vergessen ist hier jedes Freud und Leid. Die Tage rinnen ungezhhlt hinab. Es sinkt bald der, bald jeher mild ins Grab. Und auf und ab ebbt kaum das Meer der Zeit. (1908:1,654)

Death:

Das Gerippe

Sie stiessen im Gemhur auf einen Toten. Dunkler als Ebenholz ein schwafz Gerippe. Tief in den diistren Augenhbhlen lohten Aughpfel zwei, von Steinen, blutigroten.

Und grMsslich, wie zum Schrei die fahle Lippe Sich krampft, so war des Todes beinern Gesicht verzerrt im Tod noch, und es drohten Die Knochenarme noch dem Himmel droben.

Da sank's in sich zusammen. Eh's zerstoben Erschlien ein LUcheln, geisterhaft und steinern Um seine Augen, als ob die Erstarrten Sie um des Tods schrecklich Geheimnis narrten. (1906:111,623)

M orituri

Selbstmbrder gehen, wenn sie sterben wollen, Nicht weit von Strassen ab und vollen Wegen, Dass nicht zu fern des Lebens Wogen rollen, Wenn sie zum Tod bereit sich niederlegen. 24

Sie springen wohl von Briicken in die Fliisse, Aus Menschenschwarme in das Land der Toten. Im Stadtlhrm. hbrst du bfter ihre Schiisse, Als wo dir Einsamkeit und Stille drohten.

Den ist im Grame auch der Geist erfroren, Und starr geworden in den Finsternissen, Er wiinschet dennoch an des Todes Toren, Dass er zuriick ins Leben werd gerissen.

So wissen sie den dunklen Wald zu meiden, Wo ihre Trknen nur auf Steine fallen, Und wo der Seele ungehbrte Leiden, Im Echo als GelMchter w iderhallen. (1908:1, 668)

Anxiety and loss of identity:

Wenn im Saal die Schatten gehen, Die auf leisen Sohlen liefen, Oft verlangt's dich dann, zu spclhen In der dunklen Spiegel Tiefen, Dir vertraut und wieder fremd.

Und de schaust im triiben Lichte, Das sich noch im Saal verbreitet, Wunderliche Nachtgesichte, Wie's im dunklen Glase gleitet Tief herauf und ungehemmt.

Du erscheinst dir selber ein andrer, Deine Hiillen sinken nieder, Und der heimatlose Wand re r Findet seine Heimat wieder, Der Y erirrt1 das Vaterland.

Und dir ist, als musst du eilen, Wenn dich die Gesichte locken, Einzutauchen ohn Verweilen, Nach den langen schwarzen Locken Haschend, nach der feinen Hand. Doch da fasst dich schon das Grauen, Und du siehst, in engen Banden, Wie sie auf dich niederschauen Traurig tief, und bald verschwanden, Wie das letzte Licht verschw and. (1906:1, 637-8)

These themes were growing in frequency and importance in

Heym's lyrics in 1909, before his exposure to the program of the

Neue Club (March/April 1910). And even after Heym's association with the Neue Club his earlier attitudes and imagery did not disappear

altogether. As we shall see, the image of light and the sun retain positive connotations well into his "expressionist" phase. In addi­ tion, Jugendstil style and vocabulary and neoromantic themes appear

in parodistic or transvalued forms. In our investigation of Heym's metaphysical landscape, and particularly of the cosmic imagery, the

retention of earlier images, with or without their original value, causes a loosening of Heym's figurative idiom and creates a series of ambivalent images which resist the assignment of one exclusive mean­ ing or value and contribute to the establishment of paradox as a leading characteristic of Heym's later poetry.

3. Ambivalence of Images: Heym's Figurative Language

At various times interpreters of Heym's poetry have attempted to assign specific values to certain of Heym's frequently recurring images. These attempts have generally been not entirely successful, because Heym's images rarely prove to be completely consistent. 26

So, for example, attempts to establish the sun as a positive image in

Heym's "mythology" or the moon as totally negative have foundered

because of the ambivalence of the images. In fact, we can say that

no image in Heym's work is always positive or negative. Even Death

is occasionally given a positive value:

Beneidet uns, die von Saturn ihr stammet, Gtittliche ihr, die ihr unsterblich seid. 0Zu> leerer Himmel Einsamkeit verdammet, Ihr, deren Stirn voll leerer Ewigkeit.

Wir wissen wohl, dass in vergessner Thule Die Parze haust, die Unabwendbar heisst, Die unsren Faden spinnt auf schneller Spule Und einer Nacht mit Lachen ihn zerreisst.

Dann tritt der Gott, der unser Los erfiillet, Aus schwarzen Bhumen vor, wo er geharrt. Des grosser Schatten unser Haupt verhilllet, --Und unser Blut verstockt sich und erstarrt. (I, 303-4)

The ambivalence of Heym's images naturally makes systematiza­ tion difficult. It also tells us something important about Heym's

Weltanschauung, which was characterized by irreconcilable contra­ dictions. These contradictions stem from the nature of Heym's experience of reality and may be followed through his development from the epigonal fringes of one literary tradition to his position as an in­ fluential early representative of another, quite different one. Before we attempt to follow Heym's course, however, let us examine in more detail the characteristic ambivalence of his imagery. For this pur­ pose we will consider the image of the cloud. 27

As Schneider has pointed out, the treatment of the cloud image

is the earliest element of Heym's concrete natural landscape to re-

24 fleet the change in the poet's attitude toward nature. The image, as

might be expected, becomes rapidly more negative and threatening.

But even so, the cloud image is ambivalent up to the end of Heym's

literary output. The colors and shapes of the clouds excited the poet,

as his diary testifies:

Wolken: eine ungeheure schwarze Fltlche, wie ein riesiges schwarzes Land bedeckt den sildlichen Himmel. Rechtz, gen Westen, reiht sich daran ein breites, liber den Himmel gespanntes Band, breit, tiefrot. Wie die Trauden an der Stirn eines bekrfelnzten Gottes, so helngt eine Anzahl von roten langen Fetzen daraus herab. Ganz oben in der Mitte ist wie ein ungeheurer Spiralnebel eine rote feine Wolke, die in dem tiefen Blau langsam zerfliesst. Als ich diese sah, verlor ich vor Taumel fast den Boden unter den FUssen. (20. 9. 10:111, 144)

Ich beobachte die Wolken, gelbliche, weisse Fische, Fasane, eine Maus auf blauem Grund. Und rechts ein wunderbares Phantom, wie ein riesiger Polyp mit unzhhligen, langen, feinen Armen. (30.11.10:111,153)

These observations occur during a period in time when the poet's alienation from nature was reaching an extreme in his poetry. Even there, however, the cloud image receives a variety of treatment:

Die weissen Wolken wachsen in die Luft Wie Berge grundlos aus dem Blau der Seen. In Licht gelbst die waldgen Ufer stehen, Wo dhmmrig ruht des Schattens blauer Duft. (I, 62) 28

Eine Heimat wtisste ich uns beiden, Wo im Schoss der Nacht in Wolkenreichen Liegt des Mondes Stadt, in grUnen Weiden Kleiner Inseln, wo die Herden streichen. (I, 92)

O weites Land des Sommers und der Winde, Der reinen Wolken, die dem Wind sich bieten. Wo goldener Weizen reift und die Gebinde Des gelben Roggens trocken in den Mieten. (I, 97)

Eine Wolke nur stand in den Weiten noch lange, Ehe die Nacht begann, in dem ewigen Raum Purpur schwebend im All, wie mit schbnem Gesange tiber der klingenden GrUden der Seele ein Traum. (I, 339)

Der Sturm ist rauschend durch das Rohr gegangen, Der Nebel steigt vor Mondes grossem Reif

Den trlib die Wolken drHngen, wie ein Heer Der Haie um ein segelloses Schiff. (I, 107)

Sie wandern durch die Nacht der Sthdt e hin, Die schwarz sich ducken unter ihrem Fuss. Wie Schifferbfelrte stehen um ihr Kinn Die Wolken schwarz vom Rauch und Kohlenruss. (I, 186)

Die KrfeLhen schreien laut, von Wolken schwarz getrieben. Der Sturm geht ewig aus der Wolkenferne. (1,415)

Unter den h&ngenden Wolken, die dunkel uns drohten, Schwarze Abend auf den bleiernen Flilssen, £Wie Tiere vermummt], von gleitenden Wassern gerissen, Riesige Sterne standen gross in den Booten. (1,498)

That the cloud image was particularly meaningful to Heym may be

assumed from the following diary entry: "Vor einigen Jahren hing einmal in der Secession ein Bild: 'Die Menschen unter der Wolke, 1 25 eins der wenigen Bilder, die ich nie vergessen werde. " The ambi­ valence of the image becomes almost paradoxical in the following fragment: "Man sollte nichts tun, als immer den Wolken zuzuschauen, 29

den weiten, geheimnis vollen Wolken. Dem Schtinsten, das die

26 unendliche Traurigkeit ..."

The equivocal nature of the cloud image becomes particularly-

striking when the poet expresses radically opposing sentiments with

virtually identical figurative language. The final paragraph of the

essay "Eine Fratze" ends on a hopeful note with the picture of clouds

sailing through the heavens:

. . . Aber etwas gibt es, das ist unsere Gesundheit, Dreimal "Trotzdem" zu sagen, dreimal in die Hhnde zu spucken wie ein alter Soldat, und dann weiter ziehen, unsere Strasse fort, Wolken des Westwindes gleich, dem Unbekannten zu. (11,174)

An earlier speculation in the poet's diary about the nature of the deity has a different effect:

Warum hhlt sich die Macht immer versteckt, warum zeigt er sich nie, he? Weil er lieblos ist, kalt und stumm wie die Wolkenbilder, die ewig die der Erde abgewandten Kdpfe vor sich tragen, als whssten sie um ein schreckliches Geheimnis und miissten es durch alle Zeiten mit sich tragen zu einem dunklen unbekannten und weiten Ziel. (26. 6. 10:111, 136)

The ambivalent, contradictory character of the cloud image is

not an isolated case. Particularly the cosmis images show this

ambience, as we will see repeatedly in the following chapter. The changing character of the images and their resulting contradictory nature is an inevitable result of Heym's development in regard to his literary models, as well as of his changing attitude toward reality as a whole. 30

Heym's. metaphysical "Land" has a number of distinct features.

One is a preoccupation with the nature of the universe and its inter­

action with the realm of man. Another is the question of man's place

in the universe. Does man belong anywhere, does he exert any con­

trol over his surroundings, is he able to comprehend the events and

forces he experiences? And another concerns the nature of reality:

does man ever know what is real and what is not? Can fears and

fantasy intrude upon "reality" to such an extent that real and irreal

become purely academic distinctions? Heym's treatment of cosmis

phenomena has been called dramatic; it is more than this. It creates

a kind of cosmic theatre in which mysterious forces battle one another,

and where man, far from exerting control, retreats to the periphery,

or--an unwilling and uncomprehending participant--is drawn along to

an as yet unknown denouement.

The function of this study is to investigate Heym's metaphysical

"Land" in its various aspects to ascertain if possible how Heym ap­

proaches the problem mentioned above. A constant preoccupation will be the question of the distinction between real and irreal, and the

transition from concrete "reality" to the realm of speculation and

vision. We will investigate Heym's fantasy and dream world in so far

as it affects his view of the self and its place in the universe. We will

be exploring a metaphysical "landscape", by which Heym expresses his metaphysical concerns in visual terms. We will deal with the cosmos, -with the self, and with the visual representations of abstrac­

tions and essentially non-visual conditions, such as nothingness,

monotony, eternity, and death. The treatment of the dimensions of

time and space and of the laws of causality will be investigated. We will explore how Heym's intent to express non-visual phenomena in

visual terms affected his poetic idiom. In the course of the investiga­

tion we will encounter numerous contradictions, paradoxes and

unanswered questions--perhaps the only possible result of an inves­ tigation of the poetic world of one "der den Weg nicht weiss. " FOOTNOTES

Introduction

^see Gunter Martens,"Umbra Vitae und der Himmel Trauer- spiel: Die ersten Sammlungender nachgelassenen Gedichte Georg Hevms. " Euphorion, 59 (1965), pp. 118-131.

^Georg Heym, Dichtungen und Schriften. Band VI: Dokumente zu seinem Leben und Werk, ed. Karl Ludwig Schieider and G. Burckhardt, (Hamburg 8i Milnchen: Ellerm ann, 1968), p. 186.

3Ibid.

^Georg Heym, Dichtungen und Schriften. Band III: Tagebttcher, Trhume, Briefe, ed. K. L. Scheider, (Hamburg & Milnchen: Ellermann, I960), p. 164.

5Heym, III, 172.

6Heym, III, 175.

7Heym, III, 176.

®Georg Heym, Dichtungen und Schriften, Band I: Lyrik, ed. K. L. Scheider and Gunter Martens, (Hamburg & Milnchen: Ellermann, 1964), p. 480. (All other poem citations are from this edition and are given in the text. )

^Karl Ludwig Scheider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck in den Dichtungen Georg Hevms, Georg Trakls und Ernst Stadlers. Studien zum lyrischen Sprachstil des deutschen Expressionismus, (Heidelberg: Winter, 1961), p. 51.

* ^Gunter Martens, Vitalismus und Expressionismus. Ein Beitrag zur Genese und Deutung expressionistischer Stilstrukturen und Motive, (Stuttgart, Berlin, Kttln, Mainz: W. Kohlhammer, 1971), pp. 198-99. -

11Heym, III, 138.

32 l^M artens, V italism us und ExpressLonLsmus, p. 257.

13Heym, III, 135-6.

■^(Bethge):Heym, III, 33 and III, 72.

15 (Benzmann):Heym, III, 9.

^See also: An Helios (I, 602); An Chrysels (I, 537); Trost (I, 616).

■*"^1905: Heym, III, 8.

18See also: An Hblderlin (1905: I, 696).

^ S e e also: Sonnett (1904: I, 576). 20 Egbert Krispyn, Georg Heym. A Reluctant Rebel, (Gaines­ ville: U. of Florida Press, 1968), pp. 46-7.

2^K. L. Schneider, "Das Bild der Landschaft in der Lyrik Georg Heyms und Georg Trakls, " Der deutsche Expressionismus. Formen und Gestalten, ed. Hans Steffen, (Gdttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1965), p. 46.

33Schneider, "Das Bild der Landschaft, " p. 46.

23Krispyn, p. 39.

2^Schneider, "Das Bild der Landschaft, " p. 47ff.

25Heym, III, 131 (29. Sept. 1909).

^ H e y m , HI, 136 (29. June, 1910). CHAPTER I

COSMIC LANDSCAPE

1. Clouds

The cloud image presented Heym with a variety of possibilities

in terms of colors, size, light effects, movement and nature descrip­

tion. In addition, the clouds' changing shapes stimulated the creation

of entire cloud "landscapes" and structures, and a number of fantas­ tic pictures. Schneider described the possibilities of such imagery

and its value to the poet primarily in terms of the dynamic qualities

and the potential for the poet to express his inner dynamism:

Einer Phantasie, der die Welt dhmonisch beseelt erscheint, die die Naturvorghnge als dramatisches Spiel erlebt, drhngen sich in erster Linie die unbhndigen Naturkrhfte zur Gestaltung auf. Wind und Sturm z. B. versetzen die Welt in einen Zustand des Aufruhrs, schaffen ein Bild, das der leidenschaftlichen inneren Bewegtheit des ekstatischen Dichters entspricht und in dem er sich selbst wiedererlebt. Bei der Gestaltung solcher VorgSnge befindet sich Heym daher in seinem Element, und es kommt zu einer me taphorischen Entladung des dhmonischen Welterlebens und des Bewegungsrausches. Die hier aufzuftihrenden Bilder arbeiten einerseits die Bewegungsintensitdt, anderseits die in der Bewegung wirkende Kraft gesteigert hinaus. Personifizierung sowie Beseelung sind auch hier die Mittel, mit denen die Vorstellungen unheimlicher Aktivithten erzeugt werden. *

35 This statement provides an insight into the nature of the image,

but the evaluation of Heym's attitude appears somewhat limited. The

potential for self-reflection of an ecstatic inner dynamism seems more

applicable to Heym's earlier lyrics, which resemble the cosmis im­

pressionism of some of his older contemporaries. Later, it appears

that the experience of natural occurrences as "dramatisches Spiel"

expresses a distance between observer and event. Schneider does not

take into account the increasing gap between subject and object in

Heym's treatment of natural phenomena of all sorts. By this we do

not refer to a critical distance which allows for objectivity, but to an

ever-increasing distance of alienation between the subject and his

environment. Heym's later lyrics show that the poet's ability to

express "leidenschaftliche innere Bewegtheit" through images of

clouds, wind and storm diminishes steadily from Wolken and Der

Weststurm, written early in 1910, to a poem such as Der Nebelsthdte winzige Wintersonne (December 1911), where "dynamic intensity" has

been overcome by icy paralysis.

In addition, clouds and storm eventually become trapped in the same vacuum of eternal emptiness (temporally and spatially) which reduces even violent action and/or movement into futile impotence:

Die Krfethen schreien laut, von Wolken schwarz getrieben, Und Sturm geht ewig aus der Abendferne. (1,415) 36

The significance of clouds in Heym's "metaphysical" landscape is considerable. The poet's eye is continually on the heavens. Clouds attract his interest because of certain plastic qualities which fit his needs, but the ability of clouds to give an impression of substance attracts him as well. In Heym's view, clouds may be light and trans­ parent one moment, expressing independence, or heavy and sagging in the next, expressing oppression. Or clouds may even become as solid as a wall, as in Luna II (see below). Clouds add mystery to the universe by covering the sky. They are also signs of changes, but they are silent, demanding interpretation on the part of the observers.

For Heym, clouds fulfill every function from mere backdrop to per­ sonified actors upon his cosmic stage. They appeal to his love of images, "Wolkenbilder", such as the first two poems under discus­ sion below. As the last poem demonstrates, however, the cloud pic­ tures eventually hide as much as they reveal.

Walken

Der Toten Geister seid ihr, die zum Flusse, Zum ilberladnen Kahn der Wesenlosen Der Bote flihrt. Fuer Rugen hallt im Tosen Des Sturms und in des Regens wildem Gusse.

Des Todes Banner wird im Zug getragen. Des Heers caroccio flihrt die Wappentiere. Und graunhaft weiss erglhnzen die Paniere, Die mit dem Saum die Horizonte schlagen. 37

Es nahem Monche, die in HUnden bergen Die Totenlichter in den Prozess ionen. Auf Toter Schultern morsche S&rge thronen. Und Tote sitzen aufrecht in den SsLrgen.

Ertrunkane kommen. Ungeborner Leichen. Gehenkte blaugeschniirt. Die Hungers starben Auf Meeres Fernen Inseln. Denen Narben Des Schwarzen Todes umkrclnzen rings die Weichen.

Es kommen Kinder in dem Zug der Toten. Die eilend fliehn. Gelhhmte vorwhrts hasten. Der Blinden Sthbe nach dem Pfade tasten. Die Schatten folgen schreiend dem stummen Boten.

Wie sich in Windes Maul des Laubes Tanz Hindreht, wie Eulen auf dem schwarzen Flug, So whlzt sich schnell der ungeheure Zug, Rot ttberstrahlt von grosser Fackeln Glanz,

Auf Schhdeln trommeln laut die Musikanten, Und wie die weissen Segel blhhn und knattern, So blhhn der Spieler Hemden sich und flattern. Es fallen ein im Chore die Verbannten.

Das Lied braust machtvoll hin in seiner Qual, Vor der die Herzen durch die Rippen glimmen. Da kommt ein Haufe mit verwesten Stimmen, Draus ragt ein hohes Kreuz zum Himmel fahl.

Der Kruzifixus ward einhergetragen. Da hob der Sturm sich in der Toten Volke. Vom Meere scholl und aus dem Schoss der Wolke Ein nimmer endend grauenvolles Klagen.

Es wurde dunkel in den grauen Ltlften. Es kam der Tod mit ungeheuren Schwingen. Es wurde Nacht, da noch die Wolken gingen Dem Orkus zu, den ungeheuren Grtiften. (I, 51-2)

The poet addresses the clouds in the opening line: "Der Toten

Geister seid ihr, " thereby indicating that the clouds provide the stimu­ lus for the poet's imagination. What follows is highly theatrical, a 38

fantastic pageant of death based upon a mixture of classical and

medieval imagery. The images are characterized by colossal size,

movement and sound.

Sound recurs throughout the poem, largely in the form of

voices. ("Rufen" 1.1; "schreiend" 1.30; "das Lied" 1.29; "ein

grauenvolles Klagen" 1. 36) Stanza I makes clear however, that

these are the voices of the storm:

Euer Rufen hallt im Tosen Des Sturms und in des Regens wildem Gusse. (1. 3-4)

Movement plays a dominant role: a great procession extends

itself across the sky, trailing along the horizon:

Und graunhaft weiss erglhnzen die Paniere, Die mit dem Saum die Horizonte schlagen. (1.8-9)

One picture follows rapidly upon another. The ordered (if

hasty, viz. "eilend", "hasten" 1. 18) movement coexists with another,

more aimless movement, openly subject to the wind:

Wie sich in Windes Maul des Laubes Tanz Hindreht, wie Eulen auf dem schwarzen Flug, So wb’ Izt sich schnell der ungeheure Zug, (1. 21-23)

Images connected with death predominate in Wolken. Obvious

points of connection between clouds and death present themselves: the

immateriality of the clouds is comparable to the description of the

dead as "die Wesenlosen" in line 2; the line of clouds moving across the sky suggests a funeral procession; the shadows cast by the clouds

are likened to the shafes of the dead: "Die Schatten folgend schreiend 39

dem. stummen Boten" (1. 20) In addition, the movement of the clouds

through the sky, compelled by the wind, is directly comparable to

Heym's favorite vision of the eternal wanderings of the dead, who are

exposed and vulnerable to all the forces of chaos.

The imagery of the opening stanza is classically inspired: the

traditional picture of the spirits of the dead being led to the Styz to

board the boat which will bear them to the Underworld. This picture

is modified in a characteristic manner by two embellishments: first,

the dead make their way "zum ilberladenen Kahn der Wesenlosen, "

suggesting a staggering multitude of dead. The boat is burdened by

the oppressive numbers of dead people, a concept in keeping with the

exaggerated emphasis upon size throughout the poem. Second, the trip to the Styx takes place in a raging storm, a favorite image of

Heym's to express the unleashed forces of chaos. "Der Bote, " who

leads the procession, remains unnamed and silent throughout the poem.

The poet creates an air of mystery around this figure by declining to

identify it further or give it a positive or negative value. The guide appears impersonal, indifferent and inexorable--a mysterious, ines­ capable force.

Stanza II calls attention again to the size of the procession. The imagery is somewhat neutral--clearly military, but neither over­ whelmingly classical or modern, with the exception of "caroccio", which is classical (or Renaissance). The stanza is typical, however, 40

of Heym's treatment of death: The picture is initially majestic and

imposing: a mighty army with huge banners and standards is de­

picted. The only negative note is the description of the reflection of

the enormous banners: "graunhaft weiss. " Even so, the grandeur of

the scene dominates.

In stanza III the imagery becomes medieval with the advent of

monks carrying candles in the procession. The monks, too, add to

the stature and solemnity of the occasion. In lines 11-12, however,

the picture begins to change. The fantastic picture begins to be

shaded toward the grotesque: rotting caskets "enthroned" upon the

shoulders of other dead, and corpses "sitzen aufrecht in den Sttrgen. "

(Italics added). All this recurs later in Die Morgue and similar

p o em s:

Wir thronen hoch auf kahlen Katafalken, Mit schwarzen Lappen garstig (iberdeckt.

Tretet zuriick vor unserer Majestht. Befasst uns nicht, die schon das Land erschaun Im Winter we it, davor ein Schatten steht,

Wir wuchsen iiber euch wie Berge weit In ewige Todes-Nacht, wie Gbtter gross. (Die Morgue:!, 474)

As later in Die Morgue, Wolken continues with a catalog of the

dead which rapidly becomes more grotesque, emphasizing the ugli­ ness and degradation of death. (Stanza IV-V)

Stanza VI has a summarizing quality, bringing again before the

reader's eye the entire picture of the immense procession spread out 41 in the sky at the mercy of the storm. Lines 23-24 serve a double function: on the literal level we are reminded again of the storm which is taking place, while on the level of the vision the lines serve as a preparation for the wild scene which follows:

So wHlzt sich schnell der ungeheure Zug, Rot Uberstrahlt von grosser Fackeln Glanz.

Stanzas VII-IX create a hellish atmosphere: wind, rain and storm; shouts, cries and cacaphonous music; darkness and fire; and repeated references to suffering. As in Das infernalische Abendmahl

(I, 231) and Savanarola (I, 159) the introduction of the traditional

Christian symbol of spiritual comfort and salvation ("Kruzifixus") releases a storm of agonized complaint from the assembly. The bedlam-atmosphere is intensified and extended in time and space to the level of the eternal:

Da kommt ein Haufe mit verwesten Stimmen, Draus ragt ein hohes Kreuz zum Himmel fahl. (1.31-32)

Vom Meere scholl und aus dem Schoss der Wolke Ein nimmer endend grauenvolles Klagen. (1. 35-36) (Italics added. )

The final stanza is removed from the wild atmosphere of the pre­ ceding lines. With the mention of "Orkus", the death-imagery returns to the classical tradition. The last stanza does not provide a resolu­ tion to the vision, however, but serves to intensity it by its disturbing mixture of reality ("Es wurde dunkel in den grauen Liiften"; "da noch die Wolken gingen") with vision and fantasy: "Es kam der Tod mit 42 ungeheuren Schwingen. 11 In this poem we find an early example of the clash between real and irreal which became increasingly characteris­ tic of Heym. Stanza X reveals a point where reality and fantasy col­ lide and perhaps merge, calling both into question. The final impres­ sion is dislocated and disoriented. The poem is fantastic, a highly theatrical show. The clouds provide a point of departure for a fan­ tastic vision, but the dissonance of fantasy and reality clashing in the final lines contains an open threat. The sense of uneasiness left by

Wolken derives mainly from that final image, one which is typical of

Heym's "metaphysical" landscape. In the convergence of vision and reality, the clouds, moving presumably through the sky, travel "Dem

Orkus zu, den ungeheuren Grliften, " transforming the heavens into an enormous graveyard. As we shall see, this negative view of the cosmos is expressed frequently and with great effect in Heym's later poetry.

Der Weststurm

Am Himmelsdache zieht sich das Gereit. Die schwarzen Mantel schleppen durch die Felder, Und Schatten fliegen liber dunkle Whlder. Die Fllisse stehn in blei'rner Dunkelheit.

Weissbhrtge Krieger, auf das Tross gebiickt Dem Feldherrn nach, der schwarz den Degen schwingt, Und riesgen Satzes liber Steldte springt, Die in den Grund ger gelbe Rauchqualm drlickt. (I, 64) 43

Der W eststurm, despite its title, is played out entirely on the

visionary plane. Stanza I begins with open space. The riders move

along high above in the heavens, but an immediate connection to earth

is established by the riders' "cloaks" trailing along through the fields

(mist? rain?), and shadows passing over the forests. (1.2-3) The

movement through the heavens is accompanied by a comparable move­ ment on the earth. A shadow extends itself over the earth as the

riders pass above. In line 4 the natural phenomena of earth are

stricken by paralysis: the rivers no longer flow. Instead they are

suspended, dark and leaden. This paralysis is not attributed directly to the advent of the riders, but by its position in the stanza after their

appearance the possibility is at least suggested.

In the first stanza the riders are totally obscure: no indication of their nature, numbers or appearance is given. They appear, and a series of events occur (1. 2-4). By avoiding the establishment of too strict cause/effect relationships, the poet makes the phenomena eerie and mysterious.

In stanza II the mysteriousness gives way to the fantastic. The riders are white-bearded warriors on horses, the leader brandishing a sword. The construction of line 6 adds another dimension. By using

"schwarz" as an adverb instead of an adjective, "der schwarz den

Degen schwingt" can be equally well applied to the leader's action and 44 surroundings instead of merely to the sword, as if the warrior spreads blackness as he rides.

In line 7 the reader's attention is drawn from the sky to the earth again as the cloud-riders leap over cities on their way. There is again an impression of great size and space: the riders span the cities below with gigantic leaps. They are also moving very fast

("Schatten fliegen11 1.3; "liber Sthdte spr ingt" 1. 7).

Like the rivers, the cities are static, pressed into the earth by the yellow smoke-clouds above them. The verb "driicken", the color yellow and the smoke suggest ugliness and heaviness: the cities are oppressed by their own materiality.

While Wolken ended with the open spaces of the heavens (even if transformed into an enormous grave), Der Weststurm concludes with impression of the cities. A significant distinction between the two poems is that Der Weststurm omits any mention of the force behind the cosmic phenomena. There is no reference to wind, as in Wolken.

Instead the "clouds" (the word is never used) are totally independent, cut loose from the laws of nature and free to become the riders of the apocalypse.

Wolken and Der Weststurm, despite their fantastic character, are quite different from an earlier lyric of a similar nature, Die

Abendwolken: 45

Em Wolkenzug am dunklen Himmelsrand, Wie rote Reiter, die auf Rappen reiten, Wie weisser Eeiber tanzgelbstes Band, Wie a lte rsg rau e r Toten trau rig Gleiten. (1905:1, 606)

In Die Abendwolken the riders are far less imposing. They are

merely one simile used to describe a line of clouds. Although the

final comparison of stanza I is to the grey phantoms of the dead, the

rest of Die Abendwolken Ls delicate and Jugendstilpretty:

Und nun nur noch ein schmales goldnes Band Gesponnen auf den tiefen Dunkelheiten Von Wolkenland schwebend zu Wolkenland, Wie Brlicke in die fernen Ewigkeiten.

Es scheint von Hilgel fort zu HUgel Zu fahrn ein wunderbarer Klang, Als rauschten tausend zarte Flilgel, Als ob die Brtlcke leise klang.

Die Abendwolken delivers a series of impressions on the level

of simile rather than metaphor, as in the later poems. A band of spun

gold arching over the darkness, stretching from cloud-bank to cloud­

bank like "Brlicke in die fernen Ewigkeiten" establishes a link to the

eternal in the manner of the cosmic impressionism of Dhubler,

Mombert and Morgenstern. That the concept is positive and desir­

able is underlined in stanza III by the music like the vibrations of thousands of delicate wings. When one compares that to the "music"

of W olken: "Auf SchtLdeln tro m m eln laut die Musikanten, " it becom es

apparent that Heym's cloud-pictures had become considerably gloomier

in five years. 46

While Wolken and Per Weststurm show a considerable change in

perspective on Heym's part in the five years since Die Abendwolken,

the time span between the former and Per Nebelsthdte winzige

Wintersonne (about 20 months) brings an even more radical change.

Here, clouds are not the subject of the poem, but one of the key

im ages.

Der Nebelsthdte Winzige Wintersonne Leuchtet m ir mitten ins gletserne Herz. Das ist voli vertrockneter Blumen Gleich einem gestorbenen Garten.

(Alles, was ehe war, Ist hinter den Mauern des Schlafes Schon zur Ruhe gebracht. Viele Winde der sausenden Strassen Haben inzwischen auf frierenden KBpfen Ein Wind-Spiel gemachtT|

Wohl war Dhmmerung noch Blutiger Wolken Kampf Und der sterbenden Sthdte Schultern zuckten im Krampf. Wir aber gingen von dannen ^Zerrissen uns mit einem Mai,} Dumpf scholl ein Zungen-Gestreite In Finsternis--Unrat--siebenfarbiger Qual.

Doch niemand rdhret das starre Gestern noch mit der Hand Da der rostige Mond Kollerte unter den Rand Zu wolkiger Wolken Geknarre. (I, 495)

While the great majority of Heym's apocalyptic utterances are dreams invested with the vividness of waking reality, Der

Nebelsthdte appears totally irreal without being revealed as a dream. 47

Stanza I focuses upon the speaker in a detached fashion. Although the

initial lines evoke associations connected with key motifs such as

"Stadt", "Winter" and smallness ("winzig"), they are subordinated to

the primary purpose of the opening stanza, which is to reveal the

state of the speaker's heart. Lines 1-2 compress associations of

emptiness, death and paralysis into a mere four words. The image is

reminscetn of the final stanza of November:

Wer fiber die Htihen geht, spiegelt sich feme, In der winzigen Sonne, lichtlos und tot, Und fiber der bergigen Schluchten Kiihle Ltischet ein gelbes Abendrot. (I, 445)

In Der Nebelsthdte, however, the location of the desolation is

the speaker's heart. The reality of "Nebelsthdte" and "winzige

Wintersonne" is not important. Indeed, the entire stanza has an aura

of irreality, "Nebelsthdte" would appear to be cloud formations, but

at the same time, by calling clouds "St£dte", the poet renders "real"

cities insubstantial and elusive. The reader cannot orient himself in

a world where clouds have substance and cities are diminished: sky

and earth are combined in a vivid, yet irreal formulation such as "die

Gasse der Stiirme" in Die Nacht. (see below)

The tiny winter sun suggests a weak source of light at best, but

here the diminished sun appears capable of focusing upon one object with a merciless glare: "Leuchtet m ir mitten ins glhserne Herz, "

Due to its reduction in size and the associations of ice and cold 48

engendered by "Winter", the sun appears contracted and hard, almost

crystalline, and the speaker's heart is explicitly so. The heart is

glass, not merely frozen but actually lifeless and inorganic material,

brittle and vulnerable. By illuminating the dead core of the speaker, 2 the sun functions here as an agent of exposure.

The speaker describes the state of his heart with detachment,

treating it as an object removed from himself:

Das ist voll vertrockneter Blumen Gleich einem gestorbenen Garten.

These lines enlarge upon the lifelessness already stated by

"glttsern. " The poet's return to the organic realm appears to weaken

the impact of line 3, where the heart was utterly removed from life by

calling it glass. The comparison to a dead garden seems rather con­

ventional, and the wilted flowers, although continuing the imagery of

death, do not have the stark quality of the opening image of the first

version of Halbdunkel schon:

Die Blumen frieren vor den Fenstern, Die Sonnenblumen, die vertrockneten. " (I, 407)

In Der Nebelsthdte the image is considerably milder, almost understated, and attention passes on to the garden motif. A garden is

cultivated, enclosed, protected, no longer genuine "nature". Lines 4-5

invest the speaker's heart with an aesthetic quality. Indeed, there is a

stylized, "artistic" flavor to the entire stanza which diminishes its

immediacy and increases the irreal atmosphere. There is a narrative 49

quality which is missing completely in Die Nacht, where cataclysmic

events are presented in full force, with no beginning and no origin.

The preoccupation with the inner state of the speaker, no matter how

stylized or deteched, distinguishes Der Nebelsthdte from those poems

in which desolation appears as an external phenomenon. Here, the

sterility is explicitly internal, and the external phenomena are ren­ dered as insubstantial as cloud-cities.

Stanza II begins with a generalizing statement about the past. ^

Everything which once existed is now laid to rest behind the walls of sleep. The idea has a comforting sound initially, but "hinter den

Mauern des Schlafes" is ambivalent. Does peace behind walls of sleep promise security and protection, or does it suggest imprisonment?

If "Ruhe" something positive or negative? One thinks of MRuhe" in

Die Irren (see ch. 2) which translates into total paralysis and vega- tative non-existence. Lines 9-11 suggest that "Ruhe" offers little com­ fort. ..Lines 6-8 and-SbT.! stand next to each other with little connec­ tion except "inzwischen", but the two images undeniably present a strong contrast. The peace and protection of the first image is suc­ ceeded by the cold and winds of the second. These lines introduce movement into a picture which had been static up to this point The ac­ tion tends to reinforce the stasis rather than banishing it by presenting action which is at best pointless ("ein Wind-Spiel") and at worst destructive ("auf sausenden Strassen"; "auf frierenden Kbpfen"). 50

The mention of cold continues the winter imagery already touched

upon in Stanza I. The desolation and paralysis which permeate

Der Nebelsthdte find their expression in winter, ice and glass. The

image of "das glhserne Herz" ist the most striking because the heart, the absolute center of life, is not merely frozen, (retaining its or­ ganic character), but transformed into a lifeless material.

The question of the "landscape" in which Der Nebelsthdte occurs arises again in lines 9-11. "Viele Winde der sausenden Strassen" ap­ pears to refer to cloud-cities, yet that is not actually stated. Such activity within cloud-formations can be readily visualized, while the alternative invests earthly streets with unaccustomed movement.

This multifaceted perspective allows the poet in stanza III to present a cataclysmic event in the clouds which can be readily applied to earth:

Wohl w ar in Dtlmmerumg noch Blutiger Wolken Kampf Und d er sterbenden Sttldte Schulte rn zuckten im Krampf.

Here for the first time the clouds are explicitly connected to the cities. It appears that the cloud cities are destroyed. (By the wind?)

Suddenly it is twilight, and the dying cities and bloody cloud battles have an air of irreality. No matter how violent the action, it is patently not "real". (In fact, it is one of the least objectively "real" sunsets in Heym's extensive repertoire. ) Whether the irreal is given 51

given material form here or the material world becomes irreal by-

being deprived of substance is impossible to determine.

The meaning of the lines "Und der sterbenden Sthdte/Schultern

zuckten im Krampf" is obscure. The personification is highly visual

but does not make the scene more comprehensible. Instead it adds to

the irreality a sense of eeriness as the cosmos is suddenly convulsed.

But the impression is so irreal that it remains untouched by fear or horror. It is strangely neutral, like the entire poem.

Lines 16-19 suddenly introduce a plural subject, who abandon

some obscure location ("wir aber gingen von dannen") in a very deci­

sive way: "Zerrissen uns mit einem Mai. 11 The last two lines of

stanza III appear to have more "real" substance than the preceeding o n e s:

Dumpf scholl ein Zungen-Gestreite In Finsternis--Unrat--siebenfarbiger Qual.

The lines appear at first to be a manifestation of intrusive reality: the world of the "real" city, as Heym depicts it in earlier poems, appears to be alluded to here. The picture becomes more elusive, however, when compared to similar images elsewhere in

Heym's poetry:

Ein Ewiges Wolkenmeer, voll Dunst gepresst, Voll Regen, Qualm und Schwiile, fett, ein Schlauch, Voll Unrat, und der Blitze rotes Nest Gliiht ohne Donner in dem triibem Rauch. (Die Verfluchung der Stfetdte:!, 220) 52

Der Himmel reisst sich auf zu mattem Ghhnen Von. seinem stumpfen Unrat fast erstickt, Wo fern am Wall bei schattengrossen Khhnen Das kranke Wasser an den Bohlen schlickt. (Die Htille IV:I. 330)

Taken with these examples, 1. 19-19 of Der Nebelsthdte appear

to present a picture of a decaying, infected cosmos--a reflection of the

cities of earth. At the same time, the use of such imagery to describe

hell in Die HBlle IV suggests that the forced journey of Der

Nebelstetdte: "Wir aber gingen von dannen/Zerrissen uns mit einem

Mai, " is a symbol of death.

Stanza IV brings associations of memory or recollection which may serve the same disorienting function as dreams in other poems,

(see Die Nacht) The final scene is in the cosmos, and the theme is time. The concept of "das starre Gestern" is reminiscent of earlier

references to paralysis, but on a different level. Here the object of paralysis is time itself. The past is "starr", and the present (if this

is the present) appears equally paralyzed in stanzas I-III. As for the future, the poem concludes with the entire cosmos appearing to ap­ proach a state of paralysis. In the final three lines Heym appears to allude to the eighteenth century concept of the universe as a clock- mechanism, only here the mechanism is rusty and creaking. The rusty moon sets in such a way that the cyclical nature of such occur­ rences seems in jeopardy: will it ever rise again, or is the cosmos slowly but inexorably rusting into immobility? A far different end to 53 the world is suggested here than the apocalypse!

The final reference to clouds sets the seal upon a highly

"nebulous" utterance. "Zu wolkiger Wolken Geknarre" appears to provide a connection to the original "Nebelsthdte" of the opening lines. We meet the same irreality, but in a more exaggerated way, as the clouds, too, are infected by the myterious malaise affecting the cosmos.

2. The Sun

More than with most images, Heym's sun displays "heroic" qualities, especially by means of classically inspired personifica­ tions. The retention of positive qualities in connection with the sun may well be the result of Heym's earlier Helios-worship, which was never completely overcome.

In Heym's landscape the sun is usually dynamic, appearing most often in sunsets. Movement is a leading characteristic, often exag­ geratedly rapid or slow, giving it a demonic character:

Palmyras Tempelstaub ' b lc ls t auf der Wind, Der durch die Hallen shuselt in der Zeit Des l eeren Mittags, wo die Sonne weit Im Blauen rast. (I, 147)

In Stlmpfen kauert auf den dicken Wellen Mit rotem Tuch der Sonnenglut Dhmon, Der weisse Flug der zitternden Libellen Bewegt sich schnell um seine Feuerthron. (I, 249) 54

The sun displays the same ambivalence of character as the

moon, but with less Intensity. It appears both negative and positive,

classical and modern, vital and decadent, hero, aggressor, and

victim.

Occasionally the sun represents a symbol of revolution and the

advent of a new order, as it is portrayed by Nietzsche and his

follow ers.

Doch morgens brennt im Osten auf der Seine Im HMiisermeere wie ein Sturm-Fanal Im Mastenwald, im Meer der schwarzen Khhne Die Donne blutig, wie ein grosser Gral

Vom roten We in gefiillt bis an die Borde, Vom Wein der Freiheit, der das Herz beschwbrt, " (, 227)

The sun appears only infrequently as a symbol of life--a fact which is illustrated by the frequency of sunset-images and almost total absence of sunrises. More importantly, like the other cosmic phenomena, the sun is indifferent to man--or sometimes even openly hostile. It is cut loose from the order of the heavens and free to ter­ rorize and be terrorized in its turn.

Blood and fire are frequent associations, still occasionally posi­ tive, but the sun is consistently connected with death, particularly by the sunset-image. Frequently the fire imagery of the sun is employed to intensity the vulnerability and the mortality of man: 55

SLe stehen draussen in verlorner Weite, Ein Haufe schlichtern bei den grossen Griiften. Noch einmal weht die Sonne aus den Liiften, Und malt mit Feuer rot die Angesichte. (I, 471)

In the light of his earlier Helios-worship, Heym's alienation from the universe is particuarly striking when it is expressed by a transvalued sun image. The sun is frequently presented as non-heroic, reduced in power and stature:

Im toten Laube gliiht die Sonne fahl Aus Regenwolken fort, auf gelbem Stamm. (I, 104)

Die Sonne ist ein Fleck, Ein rotes Ofentor. (I, 158)

Letzter Sonne Ausgang und Verzagen Ist, wo hoch die BHume brausen. (I, 450)

Die Sonne schwillt wie eine trlibe Beule, Die tief am Rand des bias sen Tages kHmpft. (I, 220)

Die Sonne quH.lt sich auf dem Rand der Nacht. Sie blHhn die Nasen. Es wird furchtbar heiss. Ein grosses Feuer hat sie angefacht, Wie eine Blase schwankt ihr roter Kreis. (I, 166)

Die Sonne sinkt auf dunkelroter Bahn, In einer Wetterwolke klemmt sie fest. (I, 262)

Aber die Sonne in herbstlichen WHldern HHngt noch daran wie ein Tropfen Blut. (I, 370)

Occasionally the reduction in stature is reflected in an actual reduction in size:

Wer liber die Htihen geht, spiegelt sich feme, In der winzigen Sonne, lichtlos und tot, Und liber der bergigan Schluchten Klihle Lbschet ein gelbes Abendrot. (I, 445) 56

No longer subject to a universal order, the sun is both an

aggressor and, on occasion, a bloody victim:

Und ein Fluss ^der uns mit weissen Wellen wehrt Hhlt uns hier auf^mit den b&rtigen ZMhnen, Und die Sonne ^in unserem RUcken^ Schlug uns grausam mit feurigem Schwerte. (I, 483)

Und eine MUhle fasst der Sonne Haar Und wirbelt ihren Kopf von Hand zu Hand Auf schwarze Au, der langsam sinkt, voll Blut. (I, 261)

In spite of these negative aspects, the persistent ambivalence

of Heym's view of the cosmos is particularly well illustrated by the

poems which display a still positive picture of the sun. This most

often occurs by means of classical and Eastern imagery and evokes

primitive energy and vitality.

D er Abend

Versunken ist der Tag in Purpurrot, Der Strom schwimmt weiss in ungeheurer Glhtte. Ein Segel kommt. Es hebt sich aus dem Boot Am Steuer gross des Schiffers Silhouette.

Auf alien Inseln steigt des Herbstes Wald Mit roten Hfeluptern in den Raum, denklaren. Und aus der Schluchten dunkler Tiefe hallt Der Waldung Ton, wie Rauschen der Kitharen.

Das Dunkel ist im Osten ausgegossen, Wie blauer We in kommt aus gestilrzter Urne. Und ferne steht, vom Mantel schwarz umflossen, Die hohe Nacht auf schattigem Kothurne. (I, 135)

Although the sun is not specifically mentioned here, Der Abend presents the positive face of Heym's attitude toward the sun by means 57 of an imposing sunset. Der Abend depends upon personification, clas­ sical imagery, a reference to Greek theatre, and a mixture of visual and aural impressions to present a colorful and dramatic impression.

Perhaps the most distinctive feature of Der Abend is the multi­ tude of slow, deliberate movements. These broad expanding motions are utterly opposed to the paralysis and labored movement illustrated earlier.

Versunken ist der Tag in Purpurrot (1.1) Der Strom schwimmt . . . in ungeherrer GlcLtte (1.2) Es hebt sich gross . . . des Schiffers Silhouette (1.3/4) • • • steigt des Herbstes Wald . . . in den Raum (1. 5/6) Der Waldung Ton hallt . . . aus der Schluchten Tiefe (1.7/8) Das Dunkel ist ausgegossen . . . wie Wein (1. 9/10)

And finally Night looms in the distance, an enormous, motionless black-manteled figure. Night is clearly not the typical symbol of terror and chaos here, but rather a majestic figure: "die hohe

Nacht. " By means of the comparison to wine spilling from an over­ turned urn, approaching night becomes a symbol of death, but the tone remains elevated and essentially positive. The figure of Night

"auf schattigem Kothurne" is an actor upon the cosmic state. The reader is invited to view the colorful spectacle.

Der Abend, with its classical imagery and themes, its still positive view of nature, and especially its theatricality, is remi­ niscent of Heym's earlier neoromantic attitude. Heym's later interest in Lebensphilosophie and his celebration of Dionysos/Eros 58

are expressed later with another theatrical image:

Doch weilst du hier, der "Furchtbar" wird genannt, In dieser Himmel grossem Trauerspiel Und rauschet deines Fittichs roter Kiel, E ros, in d ieser Wolken Tod und Brand. (I, 308)

A similar picture appears in Abend. Again, there is a multi­ tude of colors and a release of enormous light and power which appears to occur only at sunset.

Abend

Unendlich grosser Tag, wie Meere blau Vom fliehnden Lichte purpurn ilberraucht. Wo aus den Whldern und der DHmmerung grau Besegelt weiss der Nacht Armada taucht.

Des Gottes grosser Wagen drbhnt und klirrt In feuigem Gewblk. Und hoch bekrhnzt Schiagt er die Geisel, die im Abend schwirrt, Des Riesenstirm wie dunkles Blut erglhnzt.

Aus Bkumen, griin wie eine Insel, schwillt Mit seiner Sthdte Pracht des Mondes Land Dariiber Flamme droht und flackert wild Im Himmel schwarz der grossen Ttirme Brand. (I, 306)

A significant feature is the impression of great size and space:

Unendlich grosser Tag (1. 1) Wie Meere blau (1.1) Der Nacht Armada (1. 4)

In lines 3-4 the emergence of "Der Nacht Armada" from the forests provides the characteristic connection of heavens and earth at the horizon:

Wo aus den Whldern und der Dhmmrung grau Besegelt weiss der Nacht Armada taucht. 59

The second stanza provides a personification of the sun via

classical mythology. Again great size is emphasized: "Des Gottes

grosser Wagen" (1. 5); "Des Riesenstirn" (1. 8). As in Der Abend and

in Kath below, the element of sound is added to the visual impressions

of light and movement: "drbhnt und klirrt" (1. 5); "schwirrt" (1. 7).

Both fire and blood appear as symbols of life. Indeed, the sun

is clearly a life and energy symbol radiating power and light. The

last impression of the setting sun is a somber radiance: "Des

Riesenstirn wie dunkles Blut erglhnzt. " (1.8) Again there is a

majestic impression--an evocation of great stature and dignity.

Here, however, the picture of the sun is superseded by that of

the rising moon. The moon emerges and extends itself across the

sky. It appears not as a person but as an entire landscape with

sumptuous cities. The verg "schwellen" (1.9) causes the moon--as

is frequently the case--to be invested with an internal force which

allows it to expand itself into a dominant position. Like the clouds of

stanza I ("Der Nacht Armada") the moon also rises up over the horizon "Aus Bilumen, grlin wie eine Insel ..." The moon is also a fiery phenomenon which appears to merge with the fiery sunset.

Flames flare wildly and ominously over the blazing towers (of the moon's cities or the earth's). This fiery phenomenon dominates the black sky. 60

If the final impression is meant to be apocalyptic, then it is not

very threatening. Instead it is colorful and majestic, and theatrical

in an operatic fashion. Even so, the moon and the night are left as

the final images.

Kath is an exotic poem containing a mixture of imagery from

various sources, but Eastern and classical images predominate.

Kath

Ein roter Donner. Und die Sonne tost, Ein Purpurdrachen. Sein gezackter Schwanz Peitscht hoch herauf der weiten Himmel Glanz, Der Eichen Horizont, drin Flamme glost.

Der grossen Babel weisse Marmorwand, Und riesiger Pagoden goldnen Stein Zerschmettert fast der ungeheure Schein, Mit lauten Beilen eine Feuerhand.

Musik, Musik. Ein gbttlicher Choral. Das offne Maul der Sonne stimmt ihn an, Das Echo drtihnt vom weiten Himmelssaal.

Und ruft hervor der dunklen Nacht Tyrann, Den Mond, Tetrarchen, der im Wolkental Schon seltsam lenkt das fahle Viergespann. (I, 276)

Again there is a mixture of colors: the red, crimson, white and gold of the first two stanzas give way eventually to darkness and pale­ ness in stanza IV: "dunkel" (1. 12) and "fahl" (1. 14).

Kath is also another highly dramatic expression. The event described is only a sunset, but it is greatly dramatized. The activity of the sun is intensified. It rages ("tost") like a dragon and thrashes 61 its "tail" in the sky. This action is also the occasion for a sound directly connected to the sun: "Ein roter Donner, " and also "tosen" suggests a roaring sound. The sun spans a great extent of space, from sky to horizon. In the first stanza the only mention of the earth is the oaks along the horizon, where flames show.

In stanza II the effect upon the earth is presented. The buildings of Eastern cities, huge and impressive, are nearly destroyed by the enormous power of the sun's light. This power is personified. The light released threatens to smash the city walls with a fiery hand.

The destructive violence of the sound finds form and substance in the image "mit lauten Beilen. 11

In stanza III the noise suddenly becomes music as the sun begins a divine chorale. The traditional crystalline music of the spheres becomes a violent pagan triumph song. The sun appears as an enormous creature with a gaping mouth. (Still the dragon of stanza I?) The echo of the sounds reverberates through the entire sky. Both light and sound are subjected to tremendous spatial expans ion.

The drama continues in stanza IV where the sun's song brings forth the ruler of the night, who already drives his pale chariot through the clouds. Whereas in Abend the sun was a classical god, here Heym uses similar imagery to describe the moon. Such 62

procedure, as we shall wee below, contributes significantly to the

ambivalence of the cosmic images.

Katd celebrates the release of an incredible burst of energy:

light, sound, movement and power. But, significantly, the final

impression is again of night and the moon. The heat and energy of the earlier stanzas gives way to paleness and coolness in the classical

imagery of the final stanza. {It is interesting to note that Heym depicts the moon as a male god here, although in classical mythology the moon is a female. We will observe this phenomenon again and discuss its significance in the section below dealing with the moon. )

These poems show that, although the forces of night eventually dominate Heym's universe, the old positive concept of "Licht" and the sun as a life symbol persists. Even in his later lyrics Heym occa­ sionally used sun and light images to express the quest for unity with the cosmos. But these images often appear in negative terms:

Die Sonne nur kennt unsre Einsamkeit Der unser Kerker schwarze Harfen harren. Wie Sonnenblumen in die Ruhe starren, So sta rre n w ir in ^schwarze) Ewigkeit. (I, 296-7)

Sie haben nicht Zeit Und sie sprechen nicht Und immer schnuppert ihr Leichenges icht Im Winde herum Nach Sonne und Licht. (Die Blinden:!, 394)

A notable example of the longing for life and light is provided by a brief poem written toward the end of Heym's life: 63

Noch ei.nm.al treten wir In die Sonne, Aus goldnem Park und den verschwlegnen Treppen, Wo Silberwind die hohen WLpfel reisset.

Und stehen an der Brunnen trocknen Lippen, Und sehen hhngend in der lichten Stille Die braunen Blatter mit den diinnen Rippen. (I, 425)

Here the desire for life and unity with an idyllic nature is

forbidden by the images of decadence and mortality. The positive

aspect of the sun had become an unattainable ideal.

3. The Stars

Stars occur less frequently in Heym's lyrics than the other

cosmic phenomena which we have examined, but they, too, fulfill

a variety of functions from mere backdrop to active roles. Here, as with the other cosmic images, movement plays a prominent role.

With stars, distance is also a key feature. The remote position of the stars often gives a view of the immensity of the universe:

Und die Stern sind hoch in verblassenden Weiten, Wenige erst, auseinandergeriickt. (I, 448)

Und Regen der Sterne Wie der {Atem des Vaters^ In unendliche F erne. (I, 383)

Stars usually appear quite indifferent to man and his activities.

They are generally distant and untouchable, only rarely explicitly positive, but also only rarely negative. An exception to this are the

occasions when the stars represent fate: 64

Hoch auf der Kuppel, auf dem dunklen Strom Belauscht allein der bbsen Sterne Bahn In weissem Faltenkleid ein Astronom, (I, 240)

Wir trafen uns in Wald und bbsem Sterne, Da des Saturns gelbhaariger Fittich flog Durch Waldes Wirrsal. Und in Waldes Ferne Der Weg im Ausgang stand <(i:m> Donner-Licht. (I, 292)

Durch blasse Sterne, die versinken wollen, In leere Weiten treibe und den Tod, Den Vtigeln gleich, die unter grossem Fittich Verbergen hoch ein bbses Morgenrot. (I, 330)

In other cases stars function as signs or omen without being explicitly evil. The constellation appears as another mysterious or unreadable omen offered by an essentially indifferent or hostile cosmos.

Masslose Traurigkeit. In Nacht allein Verirrt der Wandrer durch den hohen Flue, Wo oben in der dunklen WtJlbung Stein G estirne fliehn in m ag isch er Figur. (I, 204)

Und die wenigen Sterne stehen tfber den Weiten in runigem Bilde. (1,436)

Die Ghrten der Meere mit silbernen Strassen gefiillt Dehnten sich (uni. Wort) unter der Sterne Bild. (I, 507)

Er sieht sich um voll Angst und starrt herauf Zum Kreis der Sterne, die dem dunklen Orte Schwach leuchten, in der dumpfen Stunden Lauf. (I, 199)

Der Tag fliegt westwMrts, und der Abend sinkt. Von Osten naht die Nacht. Die Sterne steigen Von Meer und Inseln in dem kUhlen Reigen. (I, 38)

Der Nacht Chorege glfelnzt, der Abendstern Der langsam auf der Thnzer Reigen fiihrt. (I, 175)

The distance and apparent indifference of the stars is often expressed by associations of cold and winter: 65

Die Sterne, die dem Griin der Nacht entsteigen, Beginnen frierend ihren Wandergang. (I, 111)

. , . Trlibe in dem Blau Zittert ein Stern im bittern Winterfrost. (I, 198)

Tief, wie die schwarzen, herbstlichen Zisternen . . . Sind deine Augen, die ins Weite schaun Aus engen Strassen nach den Wintersternen. (I, 193)

The value of the stars as an image is also'subject to the poet's ambivalent attitude toward the universe. The concept of the music of the spheres appears positive or negative according to the degree of alienation from the universe which the poet expresses.

Und Sterne fahren singend durch die Rhume Vom Hauche Gottes durch das All getrieben. (I, 333)

Und httrten den Wind am Tage--Im Abend ein Regentrippen— Weisser Sterne Gera.usche--durch Dunkel der Rhume verschneit. (1,512)

Die Nacht provides an interesting case in which the stars function as agents of destruction (perhaps inadvertently), as the cosmos is rocked by a mysterious cataclysm.

Die Nacht

Auf Schlangenhhlsen die feurigen Sterne Hclngen heru n ter auf schwankende Tlirme, Die Dhcher gegeisselt. Und Feuer springet, Wie ein Gespenst durch die Gasse der Stilrme.

Fengter schlagen mit Macht. Und Mauern, die alten, Reissen die Tore auf in zahnlosem Munde. Aber die Brlicken fallen Uber dem Schlunde Und der Tod steht draussen, der Alte. 66

Aber die Menschen rennen, ohne zu wissen Blind und schreiend, mit Schwertern und Lanzen, Unten hallet es dumpf, und die Glocken tanzen, Schlagend laut auf, von den Winden gerissen.

Die Plhtze sind rot und tot. Und riesige Mende Steigen iiber die Ditcher mit steifen Beinen Den fiebernden Schltlfern tief in die Hammer zu scheinen, Und die Stirne wird fahl wie frierendes Leinen. (I, 466)

The depiction of universal destruction constitutes a key motif

in Heym's poetic vision. The motif frequently appears in conjunction with the city, with war, and also in nature. Often the vision of

destruction is intensified to a picture of the Apocalypse. Only

infrequently, however, does the apocalyptic vision appear as the sole

subject of a poem, but it often occurs as a theme or motif in others.

Most frequently, however, are threats and omens of imminent destruction.

Heym, who felt intolerably confined by the society in which he lived, expressed frequently in his diaries and essays the longing for a liberating release of violence in the form of a war or revolution. In his lyrics the poet's frustrations found expression in the motif of the Apocalypse.

Heym's statement: "Unsere Krankheit ist, am Ende eines

Welttages zu leben" is generally interpreted as a symbol of the decadence of society, but the concept "Ende eines Welttages" extends beyond society to depict a malaise which has infected the entire universe, and the poet's visions of destruction include the cosmos. 67

Heym's diary provides a suggestion that the release of violence interested him beyond the application to society and politics. He described with an accompanying drawing a destructive event of trivial dimensions on the natural plane, "Kurve einer Katastrophe eines jzerbrochenen Tellers", and concluded: "Jedenfalls immer 4 erst Ruhe nach einer Katastrophe, physischen oder psychischen. "

It is significant, however, that Heym rarely gave expression to a genuine catastrophic event, confining himself mainly to warnings and threats. The result of such a containment of destructive forces is an enormous increase of tension and a never-abating feeling of oppression. It is the tension, and the inability to find release and peace, which Heym regarded as a leading feature of a meaningless world.

Die Nacht is the last poem which Heym devoted entirely to the theme of the Apocalypse. The dynamism and Dhmonisierung which are generally regarded as the primary features of Heym's apocalyptic vision appear to demonate Die Nacht. Mautz points out, however, the significance of Erstarrung (paralysis) as a necessary complement to dynamism in Heym's Apocalypse poems. Die Nacht contains both features, and presents an abortive release of violence which is transformed into paralysis. Even on the visionary level the poet provides no escape from the imprisonment in an empty, meaningless eternity. 68

The apocalyptic character of the violence in Die Nacht is firmly established by the initial lines. In an earlier lyric,

Die Menschen stehen vorwclrts in den Strassen, cosmic phenomena are presented as omens of destruction:

Die Menschen stehen vorwhrts in den Strassen Und sehen auf die grossen Himmelszeichen, Wo die Kometen mit den Feuernasen Um die gezackten Tiirme drohend schletchen. (1,440)

In Die Nacht the stars are no longer merely a sign of destruction, but are agents of destruction. Even without a direct causal relationship, the hanging stars appear destructive. There is at least an associative connection provided by the repetition of fire between "die feurigen Sterne" (1. 1) and "Und Feuer springet" (1. 3)

The image of stars "auf Schlangenhttlsen" is both graphic and threatening. The stars provide the immediate point of contact between the heavens and the earth, which is represented by

"schwankende Tiirme. The heavens appear to rain destruction upon the earth below. ^

A city landscape is presented in Die Nacht ("Tiirme";

"Dhcher"; "Fenster"; "Mauern"; "Brlicken"), but the city is abstracted, identified by individual features rather than presenting a coherent picture. Although the city plays a vital role in Heym's poetic world, it is not an end in itself, but rather a "given", a point of departure for the mysterious events and phenomena which Heym presented. 69

The undefined nature of the city is evident in stanza I, where a

street ("Gasse") is overrun by fire. The formulation "die Gasse der

StUrme" defies precise location: does the poet refer to the city

("Gasse") or to the heavens ("StUrme")? The combination creates a

violent dislocation on the conceptual level, an expansion of meaning by

association which lends material form to the storms by creating a

street in their midst, while calling into question the actual substance

of the city. The result of the multiplicity of possibilities is an

increased impact: an all-pervading chaos is created verbally.

The simile "wie ein Gespenst" (4) adds a threatening associ­

ation from the realm of the supernatural. The spreading conflag­

ration assumes a nightmare quality. Indeed, the ultimate "reality" of

the events depicted in Die Nacht will have to be considered further

below.

The violent movement and rapid pace continue in stanza II, which focuses upon the city. Lines 5-7 present objects which are

suddenly invested with independent life. The result is a total

alienation from things which, as Mautz points out, makes the term 7 Beseelungwith regard to objects misleading. Each individual action

of the windows, walls and bridges contributes to the complete

alienation of normally familiar, reliable objects. Windows, which traditionally function as means of communication, and provide access from one location to another, slam violently. Similarly, the walls, 70

■whose function Is protection or confinement, behave in an unheard of

manner. Here the personification adds to the effect. The walls are

explicitly old, and might be though solid and immovable, but their

weakness, (and willfulness), is suddenly exposed: "Reissen die Tore

auf in zahnlosem Munde. 11 With the adjective "zahnlos" the image of

the gaping gates becomes all the more vivid, and the age of the walls

is revealed as decrepitude. The reference to bridges in Die Nacht is

reminiscent of Jakob van Hoddis1 prototypical apocalypse poem

Weltende: "Die Eisenbahnen fallen von den Briicken. " In Die Nacht,

however, it is the bridges themselves which fall. Another symbol of

the solid, reliable man-made object world succumbs to unknown

forces. And the origin of the destructive forces is never localized.

Line 8, "Und der Tod steht draussen, der Alte" does not have the same

"agent" character as the god of the city (I, 192) or the figure of War in

Der Krieg I (I, 347). In Die Nacht the figure of death is only one

component of the entire chaotic scene, albeit an impressive one.

Death stands "outside" (and not merely outside the city; he seems to hover over the entire picture) and apparently he does not enter.

Instead, death appears to be waiting, the ultimate threat, amid the destruction. The eternal force of death is expressed by its age. It

is ancient, yet totally immediate, both threat and reality. The image creates a violent expansion of the dimension of time, extending itself over mortality, (of which death is the agent), into eternity. The 71

personification of the figure of death is not extended {as in Per Krieg

and Per Gott der Stadt) and it gains impact from the concentration.

In stanza II the terror of the unknown is expanded from the

realm of objects to that of death. The tyranny of objects is exag­

gerated to create complete alienation. It is "unheimlich" in the

sense that the familiar appears totally unfamiliar; one cannot feel at home in a radically transformed world.

In stanza III man is mentioned for the first time. ’’Die

Menschen" are an undefined mass characterized only by their frenzied actions and their state of impotence and ignorance:

Und die Menschen rennen, ohne zu wissen, Blind und schreiend, mit Schwertern und Lanzen,

The helplessness and aimless activity are characteristic reactions to a universe which resists human attempts at control or understanding. A striking parallel occurs in Der Krieg I:

In den Abendlhrm der Sthdte FtLllt es weit, Frost und Schatten einer fremden Dunkelheit, Und der Mhrkte runder Wirbel stockt zu Eis. Es wird still. Sie sehn sich um. Und keiner weiss.

In den Gassen fasst es ihre Schulter leicht. Eine Frage. Heine Antwort. Ein Gesicht erbleicht. In der Ferne ^wimmert^ein Gelhute diinn Und die Bhrte zittern um ihr spitzes Kinn. (I, 346)

In Die Nacht Heym compresses the depiction of human fear and violence into a mere two lines. "Mit Schwertern und Lanzen" briefly introduces the war motif which demonates Der Krieg I. but it is 72

Immediately dropped. In Der Krieg I the references to the teeming

city, ("Und der Mhrkte runder Wirbel" etc. ), and "Und die BtLrte

zittern um ihr spitzes Kinn" (which is reminscent again of van Hoddis)

provided an element of social criticism which is not evident in

Die Nacht. The mass of humanity in Die Nacht receives no more

attention than the objects which react to the upheaval. And both

objects and people are generalized by the use of plurals.

The rest of stanza III returns attention to the object world in

a way which strains at dimensions and directions:

Unten hallet es dumpf, und die Glocken tanzen. Schlagend laut auf, von den Winden gerissen.

These two lines mount a violent assault upon the senses.

Sound dominates, coming from opposing directions, ("unten"; "Auf"),

and with opposing qualities ("dumpf"; "laut"). The verbs "hallen" and

"tanzen" extend the sound into space in a vivid manner. The violence

of the bells in particular is striking. The bells, man-made objects which normally express man's moods and pursuits (church bells,

alarm bells, victory bells, etc. ), are at the mercy of the winds,

representing the forces of chaos.

The first three stanzas of Die Nacht are dominated by move­ ment. The poet heaps image upon image, changing from one action or

event to the next with a breathless haste which contributes to the frenzied quality of the whole. Up to this point, Schneider's 73

"dfelmonisierende Wirkung der dynamls Lerenden Metaphern" appears to

be the leading feature of the poem. ® Stanza IV shifts abruptly to

another dominating element: paralysis, complete lack of movement.

Taken as a whole, stanza IV is similar to stanza I, in that it

presents the interaction of cosmic forces with the earth. "Die Pltltze

sind rot und tot" again suggests the city, but "Fl&tze" are actually

revealed as empty space, featureless and devoid of inhabitants. For

the first time in the poem, objects are without movement, charac­

terized by a color and a condition which almost appeared to be

equated: "rot und tot. " The remainder of the stanza focuses upon a

personification which, unlike the death-figure, is extended over

several lines:

Und riesige Monde Steigen liber die Dclcher mit steifen Beinen Den fiebernden SchlMfern tief in die Kammer zu scheinen, Und die Stirme wird fahl, wie frierendes Leinen.

The moon image is expanded, both in actual size and by the use

of the plural. It is unclear whether "Monde" refers to the stars of

stanza I or whether one is to accept a multiplicity of moons. In either

case, "Monde" creates an irreal impression, opening a door on the unknown, incomprehensible and terrifying forces of the universe which prove more disturbing than the merely chaotic. Indeed, the

entire poem is just such a revelation. The moon does not act as an

agent of destruction but only as a symbol. The moon does not actually 74 do anything except shine in upon the sleeping people in their rooms.

The moon has a revelatory function, drawing attention to "fiebernde

Schlhfer. " The effect of the moon's light is highly visual: on the realistic level the moon's light indeed causes objects to look pale, but the strong negative emotional value of the simile "wie frierendes

Leinen" has a dehumanizing effect.

The shift from extreme dynamism to virtual absence of motion naturally serves to slow the frenzied pace of the poem radically. The last two lines of stanza IV suggest that the events of Die Nacht are a dream-vis ion. 9 This presumption does not, however, negate the impression created by the first fourteen lines. Indeed, the compo­ sition of the poem reveals an even more vivid reality. From line one to line 14 the "facticity" of the statements, despite their irreal character, is not called into question, as it would have been had the poem opened w ith the indication that the apocalyptic pictures were the product of a fevered mind. The revelation of the dream character of the preceding events occurs in a profoundly disturbing way, since it is the multiple moons which have the revelatory function. But the gigantic multiple moons appear to be a part of the dream. That they cannot be is indicated by the fact that they are able to shine in upon the individuals who are dreaming. In other words, the moons are both within and outside the dream, revealing the irreality of the vision while presenting an incomprehensible, profoundly disturbing 75 omen, of disorder, which strains all the norm al dim ensions. Although the apocalyptic events are revealed as a dream, the threat to what we normally consider reality remains with a horrible immediacy.

4. The Moon

Heym’s unconventional treatment of the moon motif has been commented upon by many critics, and it has long been recognized that his transformation of the motif indicates a radical change when compared to the prevailing traditions of the nineteenth century.

The literary and cultural implications of the moon motif in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries are summarized by Spinner in his study of the development of the image:

Als Gestirn der Nacht steht der Mond dem Tag entgegen. Er verkbrpert den Nachtbereich des Menschseins, das Emotionale, Halbbewusste, Weibiiche im Gegensatz zum Verstandesmclssigen und Mhnnlichen. Er ist das Gestirn der Seele, nicht das der Vernunft. Wenn die Empfindsamkeit in Romantik in der deutschen Literature eine Vorliebe filr das Mondmotiv zeigen, so ist das ein Kennzeichen fUr ihre ganze Geisteshaltung. Sie bilden ein lunare Epoche, in der der Bereich des Seelischen zum eigentlichen Zentrum der Kultur wird. Die Dichtung entfaltet das Lyrische, entdeckt den Reiz des Trhumens, die Sprache erreich t eine neue Musikalitfelt. Eine Abkehr der Dichtung von der Gesellschaft, ein Rtickzug aufs Persbnliche findet statt. tfberall ist eine grosse Wende nach innen festzustellen. Sie bedeutet zugleich ein Bestreben, die Diesseitigkeit und Gegen- wUrtigkeit im GefUhl zu Uberwinden, Die Epoche spricht htlufiger vom Mondlicht als vom 76

Mond am Himmel oben: Das l!iberLrdLsche hat sich gleichsam mit dem Irdischen vermengt.

By the late nineteenth century the moon motif had lost the

Romantic character as Spinner defines it. The withdrawal from

society gave way to an acceptance of the status quo which veiled

itself in an idealized reality. The moon motif suffered the same fate

as many other elements of traditional lyricism: it became an empty

gesture, a clichd.

The change in attitude toward the moon motif and its associ­

ations began primarily with the refusal to accept things as they were.

Already in the Romantic period, E:T. A. Hoffmann's novella Der

Sandmann provides an early example of an unconventional attitude

toward the moon which stemmed from a crisis-consciousness in terms

of perception of reality, which is related to what occurred in E x p re s ­

sionism. In the late nineteenth century both Nietzsche and D&ubler

rejected the conception of the moon as "der stumme Freund des

Dichters" and called the moon evil and a bringer of death. The

Impressionists' fascination with light effects, however, made the moon

a frequent image in their poetry, and it was left largely to the Expres­

sionists to destroy the conventional moon clichd once and for all.

The moon motif was a favorite target for attacks by the

anti-traditional poets who introduced and continued the Expressionist movement. As member of the Neue Club Heym was exposed to the 77

growing assault upon such epigonal poetry which was often represented

by attacks upon such favorite traditional motifs as the moon:

Solche von den Lyrikern des "Neuen Clubs" besonders gesch&tztsn Kontrafakturen wurden als Protest gegen die epigonale Dichtung und die biirgerliche Gefilhlskultur verstanden und darum auch in den nhchsten Jahren aufgenommen, weiterentwickelt, verschRrft und vergrtJbert. Das zweit futuristische Manifest Marinettis, das 1912 in Deutschland verbffentlicht wurde, trug den Titel "Tod dem Mondschein". ^

Heym's demonization of the moon motif was undoubtedly

influenced by his contact with the Neue Club and similar groups. It

must be remembered, however, that Heym died in January 1912, as

the Expressionist movement was still in its opening stages and before

the distortion of the moon motif and the other conventional trappings

of nineteenth century lyricism became a program and a fashion--and

eventually a radical clichd. Heym's poetic talent and the nature of

his vision protected him from the superficiality of much of the

anti-moon sentiments. His distorted moon image is subordinated to

and totally consistent with his entire vision of reality, the basis of which was a profound alienation from the universe as a whole and

particularly from the prevailing attitude toward life which was condi­ tioned by the Fortschrittsoptimismus of his time. The following

summary of the function of Heym's demonizing metaphors defines that alienation: 78

Sfel.mtli.che damonisierenden Metaphern Heyms . . . sind Ausdruck gerade der Entfremdung von Natur und Mensch. Das "Leben", das sie toten Dingen und Naturerscheinungen verleihen, versinnbildlicht die tlbermacht der toten Dinge Uber den Menschen in einer Welt, die er selbst geschaffen hat und zu beherrschen glaubt, die sich aber ihm gegentiber zu verselbststhndigen und ihn zu beherrschen droht. ^

Heym's feelings of alienation and crisis-consciousness are

expressed in the statement: "Unsere Krankheit ist, in dem Ende

eines Welttages zu leben, in einem Abend, der so stickig ward, dass

man den Dunst seiner Fhulnis kaum noch ertragen kann. " 13

The persistent critical interest in Heym's moon motif is

stimulated not only by the obvious rebellion against established tradition, but by the recognition that the moon is a key image in his work. He employs it less frequently in his early poetry, which

concerned itself primarily with day scenes and an extensive, self­ consciously classical sun-mythology. When the moon does appear in the early poems, it is usually as an element of an idealized nature backdrop which he later rejected as clichd:

Da Uber den alten Tann Kam der Vollmond heran Und alles tauchte in seinen Glanz, Der Gott erschien mir aus Silber ganz. (I, 522)

Sieh, heut nacht wolln wir Unter dem Silbermond An unserer alten Linde stehn Und wieder froh sein. (I, 552) 79

D er Mond kclmpft Wunderlich Mit grossen, schwarzen Wolkenbhnken, Mir ist, als sollte ich den Urgrund Alles Seins ergriinden. (I, 555)

Sieh, ist das nicht wunderbar, Wie silberbleich hinter den schwarzen Wolken Der Mond steht, Und ihre dunstigen Rhnder In seinen blassen Schein dhmmern? Ich weiss, du flihltest, Dass unser alter Mond Doch mehr ist, als ein runder Ball, Der leblos an der Erde h&ngt, Und dass das wunderbare Licht Nicht eine tote Formel ist. (I, 556)

As the poet developed, his moon images became increasingly

somber, but they still reflected the landscape of an ordered world:

Und Nah und Ferne schwand zu einem Bild, In eine Wand von gleicher Helligkeit. Des Mondes Pfad lief auf die Eise weit, Ein stumpfes Glhnzen, wie auf altem Schild. (I, 670)

Im warmen Grau, darin der Abend sank, Schwamm Wies und Wald in eins. Und da das Horn Des triiben Monds sich fing im Schlehendorn. Begann der ersten Grillen Nachtgesang. (I, 680)

Ein feines Pfeifen htirst du in der Lruft. Drie Fledermhuse flattern um den-Baum, An dem du ruhst. Doch durch die Blhtter glhnzt Die bleiche Sichel an dem Himmelsraum. (I, 713)

By the spring of 1910, when Heym began his association with the Neue Club, the demonization of the moon motif was established.

As late as February 1910, however, the harmless, friendly side of the moon was still in evidence: 80

Am hohen Himmel segelt durch das Blau Der Mitternacht des Mondes Schifflein sacht.

Ein goldnes Segel hat es aufgezogen. Der Wind hat leise es zur Fahrt geschwellt. (I, 19)

The radical reevaluation of Heym's moon motif marked the end

of his attempts to impose a classicistic framework upon an increas­

ingly unbearable reality. Even in the midst of his classicistic

Hblderlin worship and mythology of light and eternity, Heym1 s

inability to maintain Verklhrung at all costs betrays itself in moon

images similar to the later demonized moon of his expressionist

phase:

Im Osten war die Nacht und harrte, Dass im West der Tag verglimme. Der Mond blass in die Gassen starrte. (I, 559)

Auf die verlassne Heide kriecht Langsam der triibe Mond herauf, Torkelt an einen Wolkenberg Und setzt sich miirrisch hinter ihn. (I, 607)

The demonized moon motif of Heym's expressionist phase has been evaluated in psychological, social and stylistic terms, in the form of a variety of generalizations which illuminate important facets of the problem but which cannot do justice to the whole.

Schneider states:

Es zeugt fiir die Tiefe des metaphysischen Angstgefilhls Heyms, dass sich ihm auch der alte stumme Freund in einen "Henker" verwandelt. Dort wo bei Heym der Mond nicht gerade als Dhmon agiert, erscheint er als Wesen, das wie der Mensch selbst unter dem Albdruck liegt, 81

der die Welt schreckt. Er "erschrlckt11 oder er "schreit wie ein Kind" vor Entsetzen, wenn ihn die Schatten von VBgeln streifen. In derartigen Bildern kommt unausgesprochen zum Ausdruck, dass es keinen Bezirk mehr gibt, der nicht unter der Herrschaft der Angst steht. Nicht nur die Welt steht dem Menschen drohend gegenilber, der ganze Kosmos hat sich gegen ihn verschworen. ^

To this psychological evaluation we may add Kurt Mantz's Freudian

interpretation of the moon as a negative father image and his

elicidation of the moon as a "demonized bourgeois", but they do not

shed much light on the subject. His description of the moon as a

symbol of time is enlightening, however:

Als ,s bBse Gestirn einer zum Untergang verurteilten Welt ist der Mond in der Dichtung Heyms auch Sinnbild der verwunschenen, "im Ende eines Welttages" stillstehenden Zeit. Das dHmonisierte Mondbild verbindet sich mit den Bildern und Metaphern, die von Zeit als einer leeren und erstarrten, als einer "Endzeit", "toten Ewigkeit", Wiederkahr des Gleichen usw. sprechen. ^

On a stylistic plane Krispyn makes the following terse observation

about Heym’s moon motif: "Heym's treatment of the moon motif

appears to be determined by his consistent trend toward concrete

imagery and by his conception of the night as a time of terror and persecution for mankind.

All the critics agree that Heym's radical transformation of the moon motif was accomplished not as a rebellion against tradition for its own sake but in order to cause the image to express reality as the 82

poet perceived it. Since this process affected all of Heym's figura­

tive language, an investigation of the moon image provides a valuable

insight into the development of Heym's style during the last two years

of his poetic activity. It will become apparent in the course of our

investigation that there is a striking similarity of conception and

treatment between the moon images and Heym's other key images. All

of them prove to be shaped by a consistent view of reality and are

often expressed in strikingly similar language. In other words, Heym was revealing a distorted universe rather than merely picking upon

one popular image in order to attack a tradition.

The five poems which provide the basic material for this

discussion were chosen from more than eighty poems from Heym's

expressionist phase in which the moon motif occurs. The five to be

discussed were written between June 1910 and May 1911, roughly the first full year of his expressionist phase. In the five lyrics selected, the moon is either the subject of the poem or the leading image. They

are discussed in chronological order so that the development and

refinement of Heym's use of the motif during this period may emerge.

While the poems are characteristic, they cannot be said to represent an unerring development of style and perspective which occurred during that time. It is true, for instance, that Heym's use of classical imagery to describe the moon declined radically during this period, but isolated examples appear later as well. The same is true of the poet's 83

use of Jugendstil Imagery, which recurs periodically after the poet

had abandoned that phase of his poetic activity. Sometimes classical

or neoromantic imagery appears in a parodistic form, as we shall see

in Ultima Hora. the last poem in this section, such a reversion to old

stylistic devices serves a specific purpose.

Perhaps the most significant gain from a detailed analysis of

even a limited number of moon poems--as careful as one may be to

choose characteristic attempts rather than isolated phenomena--is

the insight how unsatisfying generalizations about a specific aspect

of the poet's style or attitude may be. This chapter will not be the

only occasion when the moon imagery of Heym's poetry will be

discussed. The motif recurs so often in key situation that we shall

deal with it frequently in our discussions of other features of Heym's

metaphysical landscape. The analysis of the moon motif provides a

productive source of material for an evaluation of Heym's alienation

from the world and his attitude toward time and the eternal, which are

leading features of the metaphysical landscape.

The treatment of the moon motif shows how Heym uses concrete

imagery in a visual representation of emotions, anxieties and meta­

physical problems. The motif undergoes a transformation from ob­

served reality to a visionary reality, from "demonizing" image to

archetypical "demon", reflecting the alienation and uncertainty which the poet constantly expresses. The moon motif develops from a 84

leading image employed in the creation of a mood to a symbol of time

and oppressive order, and eventually evolves into a sign (chiffre) in a

continually refined process expressing a visionary reality which pre­

serves its inner consistency.

In the first poem, the moon motif is employed primarily to

create a mood:

Da mitternachts ein feiner Regen fiel Aus dunstgen Wolken, kam der Mond herauf, Als wenn ein Geisterschiff baghnn den Lauf. So gross und glhhend war des Mondes Kiel.

Er hing am Horizont mit halber Fiille Wie eine andre Welt, ein Meteor, Das in den Wald gestiirzt die Bahn verlor Den Wald zerdrtlckend mit der gldhnden Htille.

Er blhhte auf, ein Luftschiff an den Tau'n, Ein stieres Auge eines Ungeheuers, Wie eine grosse Blase roten Feuers, Ein blutger Schhdel, der entzweigehaun.

Des Kirchhofs Bhume schwankten um die Gruft. Ein Hund strich um sie her mit rotem Schein, Er bellte leise auf, wie Katzen schrein. Das schwarze Tier verschwand, stumm lag die Luft. (I, 85)

The first two lines establish an atmosphere rather than a concrete physical setting. Nacht is by far Heym's most frequently employed time element, designating the point at which all the demonized forces of the universe are released to prey upon man.

Mitternacht represents the high point of the intensity of the effects of night, when the harmful forces are at their most frightening, as the following examples illustrate: 85

Das Stromtal ist von schweren Wettern hell. Wie Mittag weiss liegt weit die Mitternacht. Wie Sarges Dunkel nun, da lang und grell Die Nacht zerschmetternd jUher Donner kracht. (I, 106)

Durch Grhber, HtJhlen, zu den Riesentalen, Wo weiss von Mitternacht die Meere gehn, Und wie ein Stein ruht schwarz das Haupt der Qualen, Die schnell wie Wolkenschatten drttberwehn. (I, 191)

Das Grau der Mitternacht wird kaum bedeckt Von einer gelben Kerze, und es saust Der Wind die Ghnge fort, der bellend schreckt Den Staub der Grhfte ab, der unten haust. (I, 204)

O traurige Stunde Wo Bbses erwacht, Ihr werdet weinen Zu M itternacht. (I, 387)

The connection between midnight and death is established by the frequent mention of objects connected with the grave. In our poem as well, the last stanza indicates that midnight is the time of death.

Mautz has suggested that Heym's time indications refer to a

17 "Weltzeit" rather than to time as we normally measure it. Heym's constant anticipation of the destruction of the world leads to the image of the world's night, in which the forces of chaos are loosed.

Regen and Wolken are similar emotional indicators which Heym frequently combined with Nacht to produce a condition threatening violence and destruction:

Blechern schlhgt eine Uhr die Mitternacht In HHusern durch die Whnde in den Tiefen. Und Regen schlhgt mit seinen Fingern, schiefen, Aus Trtlbsal an die schwarzen Scheiben sacht. (1,443) 86

Furchtbarer Sturm, voll wilder Melodien, Voll Regen, Schrei und Glocken durch die Nacht. Durch alle Tiiren kommen schwarz und ziehen Riesige Shrge in verstaubter Pracht. (I, 255)

Und Wintergreisenmorgen steckt den Kopf Durch kalte Wolken in die Dhmmerung. Vor blinden Scheiben winkt im grlinen Topf, Im Regen diirr, ein morscher Blumenstrunk. (I, 284)

In addition to the associations of upheaval, death and decay,

Heym evokes a characteristic thickening of the air and its oppres­ siveness by the references to "feiner Regen" and "aus dunstgen

Wolken". A fine mist gives substance even to the air.

It is against this ominous background that the moon makes its appearance. Characteristically, the moon is described initially in terms of its movement, exploiting the dynamism inherent in many natural phenomena. ^ The nature of the moon is established immedi­ ately by the comparison of its movement to a phantom ship embarking upon its course. ^ Although our poem provides the only occasion when

Heym calls the moon "ein Geister-Schiff", the entrance of the moon commonly signals the appearance of ghosts and spirits:

Doch nachts, wenn Uhu krMchzt, und Mhuse pfeifen, Und wenn der Mond durch ihre Knochen scheint, Dann hebt sich auf das stille Volk vereint, Durch Treppen und durch Gfelnge fortzuschweifen. (I, 268)

Und etwas tauchen aus der Flut, der matten, Gesichter, wesenlos, vom Totenreich, Wenn draussen weit in grauen Abendschatten Der Mond heraufkommt mit den HBrnern bleich. 87

The ship imagery is continued in line 4 with the reference to

"des Mondes Kiel". The alliteration of "gross" and "glilhend"

suggests that the two qualities are closely related to produce a single

impression: the moon is subjected to the Vergrttsse rungs-Technik which Schneider calls one of Heym's most frequent and effective means

20 of producing a dangerous and threatening atmosphere, and "glilhend" has a similar effect, investing the image with the elemental destruc­ tive power of fire. This is a feature which is exploited more fully later in the poem. The ghostly effect produced by the glowing keel of the phantom ship is exploited again in the final stanza when Heym describes the dog which "strich um sie her mit rotem Schein. "

Having emerged from the clouds and rain in stanza I, the moon comes to rest upon the horizon in stanza II. The verb "hing" gives an impression of weight, as if the size of the moon causes it to sag toward the earth, increasing the threatening effect. "Mit halber Flille" delivers a further, indirect indication of the moon's size; like an iceberg, the visible portion of the moon betrays only part of its true dimensions.

Just as stanza I consistently expanded upon one simile, stanza

II is an extended comparison of the moon to a meteor. The phrase

"wie eine andre Welt" is a further magnification of the moon; suggesting size and independence from the earth. The possibility of a multi­ plicity of independent worlds is used by Heym to create the uncertainty 88

of a non-an.thropocen.tric universe. The feeling of uncertainty is

intensified by the comparison with a meteor, suggesting violence

and destructive force as well as the possibility that a celestial body

such as the moon, a traditional symbol of order in the universe,

could leave its path and crash. The occurrences of "Wald" in

stanza II do not contribute to a concrete physical setting. Instead

"Wald" often symbolizes the world of nature of Heym, sharply set

off from the world of man, and particularly vulnerable to fire:

Trostloser Herbst. Yerlorne weite <3de Der kahlen braunen Felder, die der Wald Schwarzt grenzt . . . (I, 125)

Der Felder Ausschnitt Liegt am Ende weit. Sie dunkeln schon, wo fern der Wald beginnt, Des Blasse Grenze in der Luft verrinnt. (I, 119)

Diirr wie ein Wald, durch den ein Feuer reist. (I, 195)

Auf Schnee und Ebenen, wo der Feuerball Der Sonne sinkt auf Wald und Dhmmerung. (I, 189)

The second appearance of "gHinend" (1.8) intensifies the moon's

dangerous quality, emphasizing its destructive potential.

As stated above, each of the first two stanzas confines itself

to the expansion of one basic image and displays Heym's frequent

technique of modifying an initial image with other related or unrelated

metaphors. In the third stanza Heym displays what has been called his "oft verwirrende FUlle von Bildern, employing four totally

different images to describe the moon. The multiplicity of images is 89

not confusing or disorienting here because they are all related in tone,

if not more closely, and the heaping of images achieves the sudden

intensification which is the poet's intention.

With "er blUhte auf" there is a resum ption of the m oon's

movement which was suspended in stanza II. This is not the moon's

normal movement, however, but an internally inspired one, by which

the moon acquires an undeniable life of its own. By inflating itself

the moon embarks upon a demonized existence which is continued in the personifications of the following lines. The implications of

"er blhhte auf" are exploited by the metaphor "ein Luftschiff an den

Tau'n. " Although inanimate, the (presumably enormous) balloon is

bursting with energy which is only restricted by the ropes which hold

it down. There is an impression of violence just barely held in check.

The second metaphor is equally menacing. Heym, like many poets before him, compares the moon to an eye, but instead of the comfort and benevolence which such comparisons generally evoke, the fixed, glassy stare of a monster menaces the world. Line 11 again places emphasis upon the moon's size and destructive capability. The moon is a blister on the cosmos, filled with the power to destroy the world.

The fire hinted at by the repeated use of "glilhend" is now explicitly stated. Heym describes a flawed or diseased universe, carrying within it the potential for its own destruction. The final metaphor 90

exploits the connection between the moon and death which provides a

transition to the last stanza.

Although it is difficult to speak of a specific scene or land­

scape which is created by the poem, Heym maintains definite points

of reference to concrete reality. The variety of his images describing

the moon does not disturb the consistency of his vision: the reddish

glow of the moon's "keel" in stanza I is continued by the image of a

meteor and its "gliihnde HUlle" in stanza II, by the "grosse Blase

roten Feuers" and the "blutger Sch&del" of stanza III. Similarly, the

fact that we are dealing with a half-moon is consistently incorporated

into the images of the ship and its keel, the moon "mit halber Fiille"

and "ein blutger Scheldel, der entzweigghaun. " Far from producing

confusion by a multiplicity of images, Heym delivers as close to a

complete picture of his moon as possible by viewing it from differing,

yet internally consistent perspectives. Of course, the final impression

is primarily an expressive one, despite the fact that we are presented with "pictures". And although such a moon might be observed only in

Heym's vision, yet it retains its connections to observed reality, if

not to realism.

In the final stanza the focus shifts from the sky to the earth. As we observed before with regard to the moon and its surroundings,

"Kirchhof" and "Gruft" do not create a specific locale; rather they

establish the dominance of death. Trees lend themselves easily to 91

personification and play a significant role in Heym's demonized 22 nature. The movement indicated by "schwankten um die Gruff might be perfectly normal under other circumstances, describing the bending and swaying of the treetops. In the ghostly atmosphere created by Heym there is little doubt that the trees literally reel around the grave. "Des Kirchhofs Bhume" seem to represent the graveyard and the ritual connected with death, official mourners, as in Und die Hbrner des Sommers verstummten:

Aber am Rande schrumpften die Whlder verloren, Wie Gefolge der Shrge in Trauer vermummt. (I, 321)

The ghostly appearance of the dog which leaves a phosphores­ cent glow behind it is increased by the fact that the dog is commonly

7 ^ portrayed in folklore as the companion of the devil. "Mit rotem

Schein", compared with the fire imagery of the preceeding stanzas, takes on an infernal character. The dog's barking, compared to the cry of another ghostly, "magic" animal, the cat, seems, like the appearance of the moon, to signal the outbreak of the forces of dark­ ness and death. The dog's sudden disappearance in line 16 is the finishing touch to a spectral atmosphere which began with the mention of "Geisterschiff" in line 3. The color black is of course symbolic of both death and magic. The oppressive atmosphere culminates in the statement "stumm lag die Luft. " Except for the dog's bark, there is no other sound indicated in the poem, strengthening the eerie effect, 92

so -we may assume that the silence referred to in line 16 is something

more than a mere absence of sound. The very air, thick with rain and

mist, seems dead. Death seems to hang in the air as the moon hangs

on the horizon, reducing the world to silence. While the dog, symbol­

izing the forces of death, disappears after giving his ghostly bark, the

moon presumably remains, hanging over the earth as a sign of doom

and impending death.

In the next poem, the moon is personified and mythologized to

convey the impression of the power of the cosmos in comparison with

the transcience and vulnerability of man:

Oktobernacht, da schwarz die TUrme stechen Empor zum Mond, der weiss wie ein Tyrann In Wolken hcllt den Hof. Die ungezfeLhlt Vor seiner Stirn und dtlstren Majestclt Am dunklen Himmel hingeworfen sind, Ein ungezhhlter Teppich Sklavenrlicken Wie tausend Maulwurfshaufen schwarz. Er blickt Auf ihre Niedrigkeit. Von seinem Thron, Den Welten scheiden ab von seiner Grbsse Und Furchtbarkeit. - -Die Bhume spechen laut: Ich will nicht mehr. Und schfitteln wild <”das Haupt.^ Ein Blhtter (schwarm), welk braun, mit harten Adern Wie Totenh&nde fliegt von ihrem Haupt. Die dunkie Strasse treibt sie weit ^3er Wind)1. Sie rascheln, wie ein altes BUcherblatt Und rascheln fort, ein toter welker Schwarm. Wie der Tod der Riesenstadt. (TextHicke) nelchtlich hin ein Schwarm von Seelen In ewge Nacht und Dunkelheit der Felder. (I, 140)

Heym begins by introducing both the theme of time and the

images of autumn and night by the composite "Oktobernacht. " Here night provides a condition in which natural forces are magnified and 93

demonized--a condition of danger and uncertainty. Heym's fascination

24 with points of transition in nature has attracted attention, and autumn

is one of the most prominent examples of this preoccupation. Essen­

tially, autumn appears as the season of decay, the last stage before

the barrenness of winter. Autumn reflects the contrasts which Heym

sensed in his own time: a mixture of beauty and apparent fruitfulness

masking inexorable decay and death.

"Oktobernacht" indicates a process of nature which provides a

point of departure for metaphysical speculation: for the contemplation

of the problems of eternity and transcience, death, and the concept of time. Oktobernacht is not an autumn poem in the descriptive sense,

nor is it primarily a mood poem like Da Mitternachts ein feiner Regen fiel; rather it develops the implications and associations of autumn are developed according to a way of thinking which became increasingly more prominent in Heym's later poetry, eventually producing what we may call the "metaphysical landscape. "

The poem breaks down into two roughly equal parts. The abruptness of the division may be due to the unpolished state of the poem, as the missing words and tentative formulations indicate.

The first section opens with a contrast between the moon, which is characterized as a tyrant, and its subjects, who are charac­ terized by their numbers and subjugation. This contrast is presented initially by the opposition of "die TUrme", which are black, and the moon, which is white. The contrast of the colors does not assign a

positive value to one side and a negative value to the other. On the

contrary, for Heym white is often the color of terror and death:

Weh dem, der sterben sah. Er trUgt fiir immer Die weisse Blume bleiernen Entsetzens. (1,312)

Und bleiern w&chst, wie in verborgnem Ort In Kellern eine weisse Pflanze krankt, Mit hohem Kelch in eurer Stirn der Mord, Des Blume bleich aus euren Augen schwankt. (I, 241)

Etwas will iiber die Brticken, Es scharret mit Hufen krumm. Die Sterne erschraken so weiss. (I, 401)

The color white appears only once, in connection with the moon

but black appears again, modifying "Maulwurfschaufen" in line 7, and

establishing the connection between the towers of line 1 and the moon's

subjects, who are described in the following lines. The verb ’’stechen1

in line 1 already hints at a conflict between the forces represented by

"TUrme" is also consistent with the following descriptions of the

moon's subjects, who, as we have noted, are primarily characterized

by their numbers.

The initial description of the moon is interesting for several

reasons. The moon is personified and assumes the role of a tyrant.

The moon's ordering function in the universe lends it particularly well to personifications as a ruler. For Heym, however, the moon is

a tyrant, since the ordering functions--and the moon as representative

of time--appear both oppressive and menacing. Heym transforms the traditional weather symbol of the moon's "halo" ("Hof") into the

picture of the moon ruler holding court among the clouds. Here a

fragment of observed reality is developed along imaginative, yet

reasonable lines, as we observed in the preceding poem. Once the

initial personification is established, the poet shifts his attention to

the moon's subjects, using them to intensify the qualities he has

already ascribed to the moon by concentrating upon their opposites.

The moon is a single entity, personified, powerful and elevated.

Those who are subject to the moon, if one assumes that "Tiirme"

represents the city, are already human beings and do not require

poetic devices to raise them to that level. On the contrary, Heym

proceeds systematically to reduce the stature of the moon's subjects

to the level of vermin.

"Vor seiner Stirn und dilstren Majestht", referring to the

moon, strengthens the impression of individuality and power by

concentrating upon a feature of the face. In contrast, the subjects

are "ein ungezhhlter Teppich Sklavenrlicken" --a totally featureless

mass. The repeated use of "ungezhhlt" and then "tausend" in line 7 hammers home the idea of total lack of individuality. The mass of

subjects is so undifferentiated that it becomes a carpet. And while the moon is characterized by its brow, denoting individuality, the subjects

are nothing but backs. ^ The relative positions of the moon and its subjects underscore the contrast. While the moon is situated in a 96

particular place in the clouds, holding court, the subjects are scat­

tered along the sky--"Am dunklen Himmel hingeworfen"--suggesting

that their very existence is mere accident. The reference to "wie

tausend Maulwurfschaufen schwarz" reduces the jutting towers of

line 1 to molehills, befitting the lowliness of their inhabitants. The

line "Er blickt auf ihre Niedrigkeit" has a summarizing quality in

terms of the contrast: the moon looks down with indifference, perhaps with contempt, at the enslavement and inferiority of those subject

to it.

In the first eight lines Heym expresses both antagonism toward the cosmic forces which enslave man and contempt for those who are enslaved. While there is no sympathy or compassion expres­

sed for the total absence of individuality of urban man, Heym is

obsessed with the problems of death and individuality. The second

section of the poem magnifies a tiny event in the autumnal process

into a conflict of the transient with the eternal, tying it to the problem of dehumanization introduced in the opening section.

It is interesting that, although the initial reference to "Tiirme" established the poet's interest in an urban situation, the mutiny

against the prevailing order expressed in section two is carried out by trees rather than human beings. Of course, trees lend themselves easily to personification. A tree may easily represent man, yet Heym does not seem to be dealing in allegory. The poet magnifies the insignificant event of a cluster of leaves shaken loose from trees in

autumn by investing the trees with a life of their own, which allows

them to shake their heads wildly. Heym transforms this action into

a rebellion. The trees refuse to go on as they are and they proclaim

their disinclination to continue: "Die Btlume spechen laut:/ Ich will

nicht mehr. Und schiitteln wild das Haupt. " The rebellion against the

moon's domination takes place solely on the natural plane. The trees,

unlike the mass of subjects described above, speak as individuals:

"Ich will nicht mehr. " The personification ends abruptly at this

point, however, as the poet transfers his attention to the conse­ quences of this minor upheaval. The trees' action releases a swarm

of dry leaves which Heym describes at some length: "welk braun, mit

harten Adern/ Wie Totenhhnde. " Although the trees may have spoken momentarily as individuals, the rest of the process deals again with a collective, designated by the word "Schwarm". While the trees acted independently to shake loose the swarm of leaves, the leaves are immediately subject to the wind as soon as they are free. "Die dunkle

Strasse treibt sie we it der Wind" is reminiscent of the random scattering indicated earlier by "Am dunklen Himmel hingeworfen. "

The leaves are powerless and vulnerable, totally subject to outside forces. The result of freedom is the subjection of the force of chaos.

The comparison of dry leaves to "Totenhhnde" introduces the motif of death. The result of the "rebellion" is death and dispersal by 98

the wind. The picture of the swarm of leaves driven--perhaps

endlessly--along a dark road by the wind suggests total oblivion.

By comparing the rustling of the leaves to the pages of an old book,

the poet seems to extend the fate of the leaves to human accomplish­

ments. "Und rascheln fort" parallels the preceding "treibt sie weit",

indicating distance and outward expansion. The repetition of "ein

toter welker Schwarm" emphasizes not oniy death but lack of

individuality even in death, which calls forth the comparison "Wie der

26 Tod aus der Riesenstadt, " The connection between the two sections

of the poem is completed at this point. Despite the missing words in

line 18, Heym clearly ends with the comparison of the scattering of the dead leaves by the wind to the fate of man. "NcLchtlich" is less a

specific time element than an indication of a recurring process, A mass of souls, as undifferentiated as the "Teppich Sklavenrtlcken", as

bodiless and insignificant as dead leaves, is condemned to journey

into eternal darkness and barrenness.

Heym indicates that the only escape from the tyranny of time and the eternal, represented by the moon, is death. But death repre­ sents another facet of eternity--an eternal nothingness. Thus, the enslavement of the moon's subjects is complete: it dominates their life and condemns them to eternal oblivion. Heym considers this bleak prospect with increasing frequency in his later poetry. In this early attempt there is still a relatively coherent "nature-picture"--a 99

natural process provides the point of reference for the poet's specu­

lations. Oktobernacht is still in a transition stage between the impres­

sionistic style of the Berlin sonnets (approximately April to August

1910) and the increasing abstraction of Heym's later poetry.

Oktobernacht still deals primarily with concrete visual images

functioning as indicators for emotional states, conditions or dimen­

sions, such as death, time and nothingness. In the later poems Heym

refines his metaphors to the point where they become signs or ciphers which function totally without the elucidation of a line such as "Wie der

Tod aus der Riesenstadt."

The following poem summarizes nearly all the important facets of Heym's developing moon "mythology":

Der Mond hat sich in gelben Rauch gehUUt. Nun wandert er, der gelbe Schattenfiirst, Auf bfcisem Pfad unlbs bar, wie ein Kraut Mit weissem Stengel plbtzlich scheint er fahl. Die Tiere drehn sich alle nach ihm um. Die Blinden fangen seine Strahlen auf Absuchend mit weissem Auge den Himmel.

Er wandert jede Stunde eine Spanne, Wie eine Spinne, die die Netze webt. E r blctst die Schl&fer aus den Betten auf. Und weisse Blumen, Schlfelfer, Baum und Strauch Und Erlen sind gebannt zu Schatten. (I, 205)

The primary stylistic device is, characteristically, a personi­ fication. "Der gelbe Schattenflirst" places the metaphor among those which we have previously called the moon-tyrant. The active character of the image is established from the first line, when the 100

moon covers itself with yellow smoke, rather than being obscured by

it. It is common for Heym's moon to appear surrounded by clouds or

mist, but this is the only occasion when it appears shrouded in smoke.

Smoke suggests a city landscape, but there is nothing else in the poem

to support that assumption. The mention of "weisse Blumen . . .

Baum und Strauch/ und Erlen" might even indicate the opposite, but

the reader does not receive the impression of a nature scene either.

In fact, although the imagery is all drawn from nature, with the

exception of "der gelbe Schattenflirst", there is really no concrete

setting for the poem. This is consistent with Heym's purpose, since the reality of the poem is almost entirely metaphysical, and the nature

imagery is totally subordinated to the metaphysical expression. The

overall effect of the initial appearance of the personification in line 1

is of an immense being which actively shrouds itself in a mantle of yellow smoke.

The autonomy of the moon is increased by "wandert" in line 2.

The moon does not appear to travel its course under compulsion from

outside, even though that course is called "unlbsbar" in the following line. As is so often the case with Heym's personifications of natural phenomena, the moon has a will of its own, increasing the unpredict­ ability of the forces of the universe, and thereby intensifying the tension between man and the world's incalculable forces. 101

The change Ln tense between line 1 and the rest of the poem

raises a number of interesting questions. Expressed in the present

perfect, (and thereby preserving a sense of immediacy), the first

line does in fact present a completed action. The following lines,

introduced by "nun" (1. 2), are all in the present. The question arises, therefore, whether the poem presents a one-time event in the present

or indicates an eternally recurring action. The poem breaks down

roughly into three parts: the first, lines 1-4, presents an extended description of the moon's course; the second, lines 5-7, presents the

reactions of other creatures to the moon; and the final section, con­

sisting of the entire second stanza, again describes the actions of the moon and its effect upon the world. While it seems possible that the first section might report a unique event--and "plbtzlich" in line 4 adds to that impression--the remainder of the poem has a distinctly timeless quality. The overall impression, therefore, is a compelling mixture of immediacy and timelessness.

A second question arising from the contemplation of the first two lines is more difficult to resolve: is there a direct causal rela­ tionship expressed between "Der Mond hat sich in gelben Rauch gehtlllt" and "Nun wandert er, der gelbe Schattenflirst"? Surely the repetition of the color yellow indicates a connection on the associative plane. On the other hand, it seems unlikely that it is the fact of shrouding itself in yellow smoke which causes the moon to wander 102

''auf dunklem Pfad unlbsbar". It has been established, however, that in

77 Heym's color language yellow denotes trouble or impending harm. 1

"Der gelbe Schattenfilrst" is an image which expresses a great deal:

the moon is a ruler whose influence is harmful (yellow) and it is

connected with darkness ("Schatten"). On the literal level, of course, the moon is traditionally the ruler of darkness, appearing during the night, and has always been considered as such, just as the sun is the ruler of the day. A look at Genesis establishes a literary tradition which stems from a simple observation of natural phenomena. At the same time, "Schattenfilrst", literally prince of shadows, suggests a connection with the prince of darkness, further supporting the impres­ sion of the moon's harmful influence. Another possibility for prince of shadows also exists, and will be discussed below in connection with the final lines of the poem.

"Auf bbsem Pfad unlbsbar" raises the question whether the moon is by nature evil, or whether it has chosen to follow a negative course. "Unlbsbar" may mean that, once having chosen a particular course, the moon's progress may not be impeded. On the other hand,

"unlbsbar" may suggest an outside compulsion which forces the moon to travel a particular course. Again the precise meaning of "der

Mond hat sich in gelben Rauch gehiillt" acquires significance. There is a hierarchy of forces in Heym's universe, and the moon is generally 103

one of the most powerful ones. Even so, there are cases in which the

moon is subject to a still greater force, or when the entire universe is

shaken by some mysterious upheaval. The independence shown by the

moon in its action of the opening line would seem to establish the

supremacy of the moon in this case, and yet we see that Heym does

not make matters quite so straightforward. It is characteristic of

Heym that nothing in the universe is absolutely certain; there is an

element of chance or fate which disrupts causality and defies all

calculation. Here, even the moon is subject to that element. All

speculation about the moon's nature aside, the fact remains that the moon travels a harmful course.

The rest of lines 3-4 illustrate Heym's tendency to modify a metaphor with a simile from an entirely different realm. Here the moon is compared to a plant; "Wie ein Kraut/ Mit weissen Stengel plbtzlich scheint er fahl. " It is interesting to note that the moon, once anthropomorphized, is then subjected by Heym to a reduction

in stature by being compared to a plant. An inanimate object is subjected to the process which Schneider calls Verdinglichung.^^

The implications of "wie ein Kraut mit weissem Stengel1' are numerous and varied. "Kraut" may refer merely to a plant, but it can also mean "herb" or "weed", leaving the image thoroughly ambivalent. If one takes "Kraut" to mean "herb", then we are dealing with a plant which has powers either to heal or to harm. "Kraut" 104

brings us into the realm of magic which is so often connected with

Heym's moon image. "Mit weissem Stengel" introduces a second

color. Although Heym uses white in both a positive and negative

sense, it appears negative here through the connection with "fahl".

Since the plant has a white stem rather than a green one, as one might

normally expect, one is left with the image of some pale, fungus-like

growth, increasing both its negative value and strengthening the

projected connection with the realm of magic. The literal meaning

of the line is reminiscent of other Heym images: one imagines the

moon's orb and rays of light projecting downward. The moon's

trailing rays of light are also described by the following metaphors:

Nacht kommt herauf. Und Mondes Hhupter schiessen Auf langen H&lsen in des Dunkels Nachten. (1,464)

Und Monde, die auf langen Hhlsen schossen Und plbtzlich tot im hohen Raume hingen. (I, 465)

The overall impression of the first four lines is of a mysterious, powerful figure bent upon evil and having magical powers. This impression is systematically extended and strengthened throughout the rest of the poem.

With line 5 the poem's focus shifts away from the moon's actions in the sky, and our attention is directed toward the earth and the reaction of its inhabitants to the moon. "Die Tiere drehn sich alle nach ihm um" might possibly refer to the signs of the zodiac

(Tierkreis) and not to earthly creatures. On the other hand, the 105

signs of the zodiac do not revolve according to the moon, and the rest

of the section, dealing with "die Blinden" clearly refers to the earth.

"Tiere" may refer exclusively to animals, but perhaps "creatures"

would be a more inclusive term. The moon has been an ordering

force for the creatures of earth for centuries. This power is inten­

sified by Heym's method of expression: the image of creatures

revolving according to the moon increases the impression of

dependence upon it. The moon has been invested with life and a will

of its own, while the creatures of the earth, including man, have no free will. They follow the dictates of the moon as if in a trance or as

if following some primitive dance. The implications of the fact that the creatures are subject to the course of a moon which travels "auf

bbsem Pfad unlbsbar" are clear, and they become more significant

in the final stanza.

Lines 6-7 narrow the focus from "alle Tiere" to the blind

specifically. The blind have always had a special significance for

Heym. They are numbered among the "Menschen der Peripherie", as Greulich and Schneider call the outcasts who are Heym's frequent

29 subjects. In folklore, the moon is said to be able to cause blindness if it shines into the victim's eyes. Here, the subjects of the image are already blind, raising the question how and why they collect the moon's rays. Line 7 indicates that the blind search the heavens and thereby catch the moon's light, or else they search the heavens with 106

the purpose of catching the moon's rays. Line 7 contains the second

appearance of the color white, again negative, in connection with

blindness. The white eye of the blind catches the moon's light or else

the blankness of the eye reflects light. Since "Himmel" means heaven

as well as sky, we have the image of the blind searching heaven and

reflecting the moon's light. The blind search the heavens for some­

thing which they cannot see, and thereby come in contact with the

moon, which represents the ruling force of the universe as far as the

earth is concerned, according to line 5. Despite their defect, or

perhaps because of it, the blind search for something which they are

doomed not to find, and reflect the moon's light without being able to

see it. This picture suggests a blind search for an ordering force which is either not there at all or, if it is there, is out of reach and

indifferent, a light to be reflected but not perceived. The connection to Heym's earlier poetry of sun and light, and unity with the cosmos is clear. The dominance of the sun has been superseded by the moon, and the search for light is obstructed by darkness.

Lines 5-7 illustrate the limitations of the creatures of earth on two levels. Line 5 presents the blindness of compulsion, as the creatures live their lives according to the moon. Lines 6-7 present man in an active role, searching heaven, but since the searchers are literally blind, their activity is futile: man is incapable of perceiving and understanding the order of the universe. Having established the 107 human being's Inability to explain the workings of the universe, Heym concludes the poem with another description of the moon's actions and powers. The second stanza is not only a summary of what has gone before but also a totally different look at those phenomena.

"Er wandert jede Stunde eine Spanne" returns the focus to the moon. The repetition of "wandert" reintroduces the picture of lines

2-3 and enlarges upon it. The concept of time, already touched upon in line 5, is enlarged upon by line 8. Here Heym emphasizes the measured distance which the moon travels in a measured time, inten­ sifying the inexorability already evoked by "unlbsbar" in line 3. The measured sound of the line, the perfect regularity, the parallelism and alliteration all create a mechanical, unstoppable impression.

"Wie eine Spinne, die die Netze Webt" is the third descriptive element attached to the original personification. This simile extends the increasingly negative and threatening progression of descriptive elements referring to the moon. "Wie eine Spinne, die die Netze webt" completes the shift toward the negative and consciously malevolent: a spider which seeks to trap its victims. The idea of spinning a web, thereby gaining power over things, is an illusion to the activity of the fates. The comparison of the fates to a spider recurs in U m bra Vitae: 108

Alles ist hohl, und eine Totenmaske, Die man zerschlcigt, und nichts ist dann darinnen. Kein Atem und kein Blut, nur tttnern Scherben. Und fMdenziehend sitzen grosse Spinnen. (I, 462)

There is an implication of evil intent upon the part of the moon

which was still in question earlier in the poem. By this point we can

speak of a moon which is actively malicious. The ruling power,

symbolized by the moon, is a negative, malicious, inescapable force.

"Er blhst die Schlhfer aus den Betten auf" touches upon another

superstition: the moon has special power over those who are asleep.

This is a concept which Heym used frequently:

Die grossen Bhume wandern durch die Nacht Mit langem Schatten, der hinilber lhuft Ins weisse Herz der SchlMfer, die bewacht Der kalte Mond, der seine Gifte trduft

Wie ein erfahrner Arzt tief in ihr Blut. {I, 177)

Here the allusion is made to the moon's alleged power, apparently

analagous to the power over the tides, to draw sleepers out of their

beds. "Die Schlfelfer" mentioned here are com parable to the blind of line 6 in that both are passive and vulnerable.

The last two lines are connected to the preceding catalog of the moon's powers by the twice-repeated "und". These lines list five things over which the moon exerts (magical) power. The verb

"bannen" in line 12 provides two possibilities for interpretation.

While meaning "to enchant" or "to captivate", suggesting the magical powers of the moon, the meaning "to fix to a certain place or with 109

certain limits" suggests the power to regulate, which is also ascribed

to the moon. In other words, the moon's power to regulate is

demonized by Heym's presentation of its activities. The objects over

which the moon has power come mainly from the plant realm.

"Schlhfer" are the only references to the human world in the list.

Humanity is apparently reduced to the status of sleepers under the

moon's power. "Baum und Strauch" go together both aurally and

conceptually, referring to larger plants, and "Erlen" refers to a tree

which has been traditionally connected with magic and the fairy world.

All the objects mentioned in the last two lines are reduced to

shadows by the moon. Here we see another possibility for the initial

metaphor, "der gelbe Schattenfilrst". The moon is a ruler whose

subjects are literally shadows, "gebannt zu Schatten. " The image of

shadows contributes to the impression of vulnerability caused by the

moon's influence. Shadows are weak, bodiless, and totally dependent upon the light source which creates them, the moon. The moon's

power reduces everything to a weak and vulnerable state, to that which can barely be seen and which is mysterious and frightening.

The moon creates a mysterious and alien atmosphere.

The last five lines of the poem have a special character which

sets them off from what came before, and intensifies their effect. The poetic devices of repetition, parallelism, alliteration and Stab re im 110

are used by Heym to create a Zauberspruch to summarize the powers

of the moon. The use of this primitive poetic form corresponds to the conception of the moon as a magician. Heym intensifies his tendency toward the irrational by liberating the moon from the logical/rational/mathematical rules of the universe and setting it upon an independent, malicious course. The moon, to the rational mind harmless and even reassuring, is tyrannical and oppressive.

It is revealed as one of the forces which modern man considers harmless, but which is dangerous, leading a demonic life beyond man's control and understanding.

More than any other poem under consideration here, Luna II presents a conception of the moon divorced from realistic nature description.

Luna II

Schon hungert ihn nach Blut. In roter Tracht Steht er, ein Henker, vor der Wolken Block Und einer Pfauenfeder blaue Pracht Trhgt er am Dreispitz auf dem Nachtgelock.

Er springt auf einen alten Kirchen-Turm Und ruft die Dohlen mit den Nacht-Schalmein, Sie springen auf den Grhbern unterm Sturm Zu seiner Flttte weissem Totenbein.

Und das Gewiirm, das einen Lieb zerstbrt Und eine letzte Trauermesse hhlt, Es kriecht hervor, da es die Pfeife hbrt, Die wie ein Sterbeschrei im Dunkel bellt. (I, 243) I ll

Critics have spoken frequently about Heym's mythologizing

and demythologizing. 3 0 Here, both processes occur at once. The

contrast between the title, Luna, suggesting a classically-inspired,

traditionally female moon-figure, and the bloodthirsty, masculine

executioner and leader of the dance of death who appears in the poem,

has led Mautz to call Luna II "eine einzige groteske Parodie dessen, was sich herkbmmlicherweise an Vorstellungen mit dem Namen

'Luna' verband. Whether we are justified in using either the term parody or the description grotesque to characterize Luna II is doubtful. Mautz himself admits that Heym is engaged in a process of substitution and that Luna II "zerstbrt den traditionellen Mond-

Mythos, indem (sie) in Gestalt des zum Henker-Zauberer 3 2 dhmonisierten Mondes einen neuen Mythos an Stelle des alten setzt."

There is no question that Heym was consciously destroying the tradi­ tional associations of the moon motif by the contrast of the traditional name and the unconventional perspective. Once having established the destructive contrast, however, Heym proceeds to build up a new moon-myth which is perfectly self-consistent and which bases much of its effect upon an internal contrast between the gaudy vanity of the figure and its grisly function.

Although the view of the moon presented here is a new one, the associations connected with the executioner, which form the basis for the new myth, are ancient. One of the most hated, feared, and

demonic figures of history and superstition is the executioner. An

official of the prevailing order, his function set him apart from his

society and totally alienated him from his neighbors, who were also

his potential victims. Fear of the executioner even led people to

invent other names for him in order to avoid using the term which

described, his dreaded function. It is easy to see how Heym's view of

the moon as an agent of the oppressive forces of the universe, and as

a symbol of time which condemns transient mortals to death, would

lead him to the conception of the moon and its function as that of

executioner. Already we have seen the moon in the guise of tyrant

and prince of shadows, displaying indifference or contempt for man,

even outright malice. In .Luna II the moon is totally driven by malice

and bloodlust which is apparently insatiable. "Schon hungert ihn nach

Blut" asserts the opening lines, placing the statement in the context

of a recurring action. The formulation "hungert ihn" suggests an uncontrollable compulsion set in motion by an unknown, unnamed "es" which is characteristic of Heym's conception of the universe, and which recurs throughout his poetry.

In the earlier version of Luna II the initial description of the

Henker-moon and its power is formulated in terms which preserve a

connection to observed nature: the moon's "kurze Tracht/ An einen

Kenker mahnt im roten Rock" (I, 241). The first stanza of that version 113

is followed by five stanzas extending and elucidating the initial image

which were crossed out by the poet. In the first of those stricken

stanzas we are told that the moon "mit seiner Peitsche jegt die

Sterne, " that he appears surrounded by storm and wind, and that he

begins his course by emerging from the clouds: "Aus seines WoLken-

Vorhangs diistrer Glut/ Verlhsst er mfeLchtig nun sein schwarzes

Haus" (X, 241). All that remains of these nature phenomena in the final version is "vor der Wolken Block", a metaphor which gives an impression of unusual weight and substance to the clouds, creating an impenetrable barrier in the heavens, while alluding to the execu­ tioner's block. While cloud metaphors in version I provided a semi- realistic background for the moon image, the cloud metaphor of version II is totally subordinated to the initial moon metaphor.

Lines 3-4 of both versions present the moon-executioner in a pose of strutting vanity suggested by the peacock feather in his hat and the stylized poetic term "Nachtgelock". In the final two stanzas the moon's function as executioner is combined with a double role as a seductive, flute-playing magician and as the leader of the dance of death. These roles continue consistently the medieval associations with which Heym invests his new moon-myth. The transformation of

Heym's masculine "Luna" from a classical to a medieval figure is particularly evident by comparison to the initial description of the moon in Luna I. which was also written in late March 1911. 114

Den blutrot dort der Horizont gebiert, Der aus der Hblle grossen Schlunden steigt, Sein Purpurhaupt mit Wolken schwarz verziert, Wie urn der Gbtter Stirn Akanthus schweigt,

Er setzt den grossen goldnen Fuss voran Und spannt die breite Brust wie ein Athlet, Und wie ein Partherfiirst zieht er bergan, Der Schlhfe goldenes Gelock umweht. (I, 239)

The light, color and majesty of .Luna I give way to the darkness, storm and medieval superstition of Luna II. Heym’s increasing fasci­ nation with superstition and archetypical images is characteristic of his disillusionment and inability to accept the universe as the time- honored clock-work operating according to mathematically formulated laws of physics. This "demonized1' universe with a will of its own and the resistance to prediction or control of its actions is constantly

33 reflected by the independence of the elements of the universe.

Fear and uncertainty lie behind Heym's turn toward the realm of fairy-tale and superstition. Once the logic of causality and continuity is denied, chance or magic provide the framework for the mysterious processes of the universe. As the lucidity and comprehensibility of the world of things loses its validity, darkness and impenetrability take over. Heym often portrays a universe which actively refuses to give up its secrets.

The independence and willfulness of Heym’s moon is illustrated by the erratic movement of "Er springt auf einen alten Kirchen-Turm".

There is no correlative on the natural plane for this violent movement. 115

On only two other occasions does Heym's moon display even more

erratic behavior, betraying the total disruption of the laws of

causality and the limits of the dimension of space:

Da kommt mit gelbem Hut Der Mond gerannt und stolpert durch den Grund. (I, 200)

Der Mond erschrickt. Er kriecht in einen Baum, Der schwarz sich hebt aus dunklen Wiesen fern. (I, 260)

The church tower appears to be a symbol of the old order to

34 which the medieval associations of the moon image belong. It

dominates an empty, decaying realm of graves and jackdaws. The

connection of such a tower with the dead also occurs in Die Morgue:

Ruhen wir uns aus im stummen Turm, vergessen? Werden wir Wellen einer Lethe sein? Oder dass Sturm uns treibt um Winteressen, Wie Dohlen reitend auf dem Feuerschein? (I, 474)

From his position upon the church tower the moon calls the jackdaws by playing upon a flute. The term "Nacht-Schalmeien" has

a seductive quality, and the picture is reminiscent of the traditional flute-playing Rattenfhnger. In lines 7-8 the jacksaws dance in the

graveyard "zu seiner Flbte weissem Totenbein", by which the seduc­ tive, magical quality of "Nacht-Schalmeien" is succeeded by the

instrument traditionally accompanying the dance of death. The moon's flute undergoes a final reduction in value in line 11, when it is called

a "Pfeife" and lures out the worms which feed upon the dead. It is

interesting that in the original version of Luna II the final element of 116 the reduction process was missing. Heym substituted the word

"Pfeife" for "Flbte" in the final stanza of the final version and in the preceding stanza changed "Er pfeift die Dohlen mit den Nacht-

Schalmein" (I, 242) to "Er ruft die Dohlen mit den Nacht-Schalmein. "

"Das Gewlirm" in line 9 is an abstract, collective term for the worms, and their feeding upon the corpses is described with a clinical coolness worthy of Gottfried Benn: "Und das Gewilrm, das einen Leib zerstbrt". The following picture of the worms holding a

"Trauermesse" for the departed is pure Heym, and a picture which almost seems worthy of the appellation "grotesque". The dance of the jackdaws and the appearance of the worms at the sound of the moon's flute show the sphere of the moon's influence, which is over the agents of death and decay. Mautz views this sphere of influence as a limitation upon the power of the moon in comparison to its pretensions:

Der Mond tritt als blutdurstiger Henker auf und ist zugleich ein Zauberer, der betbrende Nacht- Schalmeien blhst; als Henker und Zauberer erscheint er ma.ch.tig, aber seine Macht zeigt sich nur darin, dass Dohlen (Totenvtigel) and Gewilrm nach seiner Pfeife tanzen; mit Nachtgelock und einer Ffauen- feder am Dreispitz erscheint er in eitler Aufmachung, whhrend doch seine Pfeife ohnmachtig "wie ein Sterbeschrei im Dunkel bellt.

Mautz1 charge of impotence seems ill-founded, since every creature on earth is subject to the agents of death, and those are the very 117

forces over which the moon exercises power. The primary basis for

the contention of impotence rests on the final line of the poem, in

which the sound of the moon's flute is described "Wie ein Sterbeschrei

im Dunkel bellt. " In his original version, Heym compared the flute

to "ein Nachtwind" (I, 242); he substituted "Sterbeschrei" in the final

version. While Mautz apparently sees helplessness in the image of

"Sterbeschrei", the frightening effect of such a scream in this context

seems more at issue, particularly through the unusual verb "bellt. "

Heym uses the verb only rarely in his poetry, and always in connection

with death. One is reminded of the dog in the graveyard in Da

mitternachts ein feiner Regen fiel. There "er bellte leise auf"

signalled the domination of the forces of death, as the sound of the

moon's flute does in L>una II.

In contrast to the preceding poems, the moon motif of

Ultima Hora does not appear as the subject of the poem, nor does it

create the prevailing mood. Here the motif is completely subordinated to the total expression of the poem.

Ultima Hora

Blauschwarze Nacht. Aus einem Kerker schallt Ein langer Schrei zum tauben Mond heraus Des Armen, der sich in die Fenster krallt, Wie eine Fledermaus, am [yerfluchten^ Haus. 118

Die langen Arme kriechen durch die Gitter Und tasten nach des Mondes goldnem Schweif. Wo schon der Tod, der GuLllotinen-Schnitter, Um seinen Nacken zog den roten Streif,

Der morgen fallen soli auf dem Blocke Und bald den Tag aus blinden Augen schaun Im kleinen Trog, wenn seine Toten-Glocke Noch wimmert in das finstre Morgengraun.

Die hobe Ulme an der Kerker Wand Raunt dumpfen Ton zu seiner Ketten Schall. Und tief im dunklen Laube unverwandt Ruft in die Friihe noch die Nachtigall.

Der Mondgott schweift auf seiner grlinen Flur Dem Silberwesten zu. Sein grosses Korn Weht noch an seiner goldnen Lockenschnur, Da fern er sinkt, wo blau verrauscht das Korn. (I, 277)

Death, referred to as "der Guillotinen Schnitter, " almost an

official executioner version of the traditional reaper-figure, has already marked the prisoner, who is to be executed on the following day. The description of death as "bald den Tag aus blinden Augen schaun/ Im kleinen Trog" seems to blur the line of demarcation between life and death. There is little to distinguish death as it is described here from the darkness and confinement of the prisoner's life. Heym frequently used the image of blind or unseeing eyes to represent death:

Vorbei ist unsre Zeit. Es ist vollbracht. Wir sind herunter. Seht, wir sind schon tot. In weisse Augen sticht uns schon die Nacht, Wir schauen nimmermehr ein Morgenrot. (I, 286) 119

Wer stirbt, der setzt sich auf, sich zu erheben, Und eben hat er noch ein Wort gesprochen. Auf einmal ist er fort. Wo ist sein Leben? Und seine Augen sind wie Glas zergrochen. (1,442)

Die Lider hbereidt, das Ohr verstopft Vom Staub der Jahre, ruht ihr eure Zeit. Nur manchmal ruft euch noch ein Traum, der klopft Von fe rn an e u re to te E w igkeit. (I, 209)

Although the ultimate limitation of death appears not very remote from the life the prisoner knows, he still fears death and does everything left to him to forestall it. Frequently Heym portrays death as an eternal unrest suffered by dead who are disturbingly alive. Mautz asserts that this condition represents "das nie wiedergutzumachende Unrecht, das den lebenden widerfcthrt, denen die reale Welt kein "Heimat" gibt und die deshalb in diesen

3 6 Dichtungen auch als Tote keine "Heimat", keine "Ruhe" finden. "

Whether one accepts the idea of an injustice perpetrated against the living, the fact that death is often a metaphor for life as Heym viewed it cannot be denied. Even so, as Mautz points out, the living in

Heym's poetry fear death escessively and view "de(n) Bereich des

Todes als unausdenkbarer aufs schroffste gegen den des Lebens abgegrenzt. One of the examples which Mautz chooses to support this is interesting here because of the reference to blindness:

Wer schliesst uns auf die Lhnder nach dem Tode, Und wer das Tor der ungeheuren Rune? Was sehn die Sterbenden, dass sie so schrecklich Verkehren ihrer Augen blinde Weisse. (I, 312) 120

The awareness of the immediacy of death expressed in lines

7-12 explains the prisoner's obsession with the moon in lines 1-6.

His scream to the moon is an appeal for it not to complete its course, since, when the moon sets, the day of execution dawns. Since the moon is deaf to his appeal, the prisoner attempts to capture it by its

"tail" (1. 5-6), in order to impede its progress.

The subject of the poem appears totally dehumanized. Initially he exists only as his scream: "Aus einem Kerker schallt/ Ein langer

Schrei . . . heraus. " The source of the scream, i. e. the man, is interpolated between the scream itself and the frantic action of clutching at the windows. In the succeeding verses the prisoner never appears as a totality. He is "die langen Arme, " or "Nacken. " In the fourth stanza he is represented only by the sound of his chains. The reduction of the human being to disassociated parts results in the destruction of the human being as a totality. The animal-comparisons such as "der sich in die Fenster krallt, " "wie eine Fledermaus, " and

"die langen Armen kriechen" also destroy the prisoner's humanity.

Ultimately the prisoner's identity is defined only in term s of his imminent death, his fear, and his desperation.

The extent of the fragmentation of the figure is most evident in lines 5-6: "Die langen Arme kriechen durch die Gitter/ Und tasten nach des Mondes goldnem Schweif. 11 The arm s have a life and senses of their own and appear to operate independently of their owner. 121

Combined with the designation of what is presumably moonlight as a

"tail, " we receive the impression of one animal furtively stalking an o th er.

The prisoner's total abandonment and isolation is underscored by the term "des Armen" in line 3. "Arm" does not mean "poor" in the material sense or even "unhappy"; rather the original meaning of 3 0 "vereinsamt, verlassen" is employed. The prisoner's misery is

"Elend" in the medieval sense of the word: total isolation.

The prisoner is not only isolated from other human beings; he is equally isolated from nature. Stanza IV provides two examples of that isolation. The elm near the prison "raunt dumpfen Ton zu seiner

Ketten Schall. " This appears to be an indication of apathy, if not hostility. It is not a sound from which the prisoner might derive any comfort. In contrast, the nightingale, which is hidden "tief im dunklen Laube" and as unreachable as the moon, is explicitly indif­ ferent to the prisoner's plight, and proceeds to usher in the dreaded day with its song. Nature, like the moon, continues along its own course, totally separated from man and offering no comfort.

Similarly, man's plight is in no way m irrored in nature, which remains indifferent.

The moon, too, is a part of the natural process which shows no concern for the prisoner. The moon also symbolizes time, as we noted earlier. There are two levels of time indicated in the poem. 122

The first is a natural time based on the unchanging order of the uni­ verse: nature and the cosmos pursue their eternal concerns, undeterred by man. The second level is a time which is totally contingent upon the fact of the prisoner's imminent death, "morgen. "

All of the adverbs of time which occur in the poem refer to this level.

The prisoner's entire existence is defined by his imminent death, and his perception of time is conditioned only by that. This existential time comes into conflict with time as measured in term s of the forces of nature. The time represented by the moon takes on meaning because of the man's impending death, and the man has no control over the forces by which time is measured. In his desperation he attempts to obstruct those forces and fails, since he can neither impede the course of time nor forestall his own death.

The moon does not appear malicious here, but merely indif­ ferent. Its inexorability, expressed in terms of its movement, is its primary feature. Heym often used the moon's movement for this p u rp o se:

Und werden wir langsam zerfallen In dem GelcLchter des Monds, Der hoch iiber Wolken saust. (I, 290)

Und das blutige Haupt Des Gemordeted bleicht Traurig und sonderbar, Da iiber den Himmel schleicht Der Mond breitmaulig und schief Im dem herbstlichen Jahr. (I, 376) 123

"Blauschwarze JMacht", ■which opens the poem, is an emotionally charged reflection of the prisoner's terror and the oppressiveness of his situation. Although night is generally a time of fear and death in

Heym's poetry, it is superseded here by the prospect of day, "das finstre Morgengraun. " This is a further example of the perception of time contingent upon the prisoner's death. The dimension of time is so dependent upon the man's death that "morgen" exists only in those terms, and could be tomorrow or ten years later. It is irrelevant, since only death determines the man's view of time. From this perspective the poem deals with the nature of existence rather than solely with an individual death. The prisoner in Ultima Hora, who has no identity beyond his situation, is an "Everyman" figure: the reader does not feel sorry for the individual but reacts to the whole condition.

The prisoner is literally marked for death, as are all human beings.

He represents the plight of man as Heym viewed it: isolated, dehu­ manized, trapped, in darkness, utterly powerless to help himself.

He leads a cursed existence, like the man who clutches at the windows

"am verfluchten Haus. " Heym often uses images of empty rooms, streets and houses to represent the emptiness of existence. "Die

Deere der Strassen, H&user, Htife, Wohnungen ist bildlich, nicht gegenstttndlich zu nehmen: es ist die Deere des entseeiten Debens der in ihr wohnenden Menschen. Heym crossed out the adjective 124

"verflucht" In his manuscript; whether he might have substituted a word denoting emptiness is an open question. The oppressive narowwness of existence is indicated by the image "Kerker" and Mim kleinen Trog, " which are parallel concepts. Man's death leads him from one confinement into another.

The poet's pessimism is forcibly expressed by the ironic contrast in the last stanza, which describes the event which the prisoner desperately tried to forestall. The moon completes its course and sets in the stylized, colorful, fluidly decorative idiom of

Jugendstil. The horror and desperation of existence as it is portrayed in the first four stanzas is absolved in a Verklhrung, in which a classical, personified moon god sinks into the distance. The fluid movement of Jugendstil evident in "schweift", "weht", "sinkt", and

"verrauscht" mocks the vain attempt to impede the moon's course.

The palpable darkness of "blauschwarze JMacht" gives way to the delicate pastel colors which accompany the dawn. That the moon sets

"wo blau verrauscht das Korn" ends a vision of sterile existence and oppressive mortality with the invocation of a tradntional--but distant-- symbol of life.

The contrast of an ugly, disturbing reality with its poetic

"transfiguration" is primarily a device to shock the reader. It is also an example of Heym's rejection of "eine Auffassung von Kunst, die der Kunst die Funktion erteilt, die Wirklichkeit zu verklMren oder durch eine kiinstlich geschaffene Welt des schtinen Scheins iiber eine schlechte Wirklichkeit hinwegzuthuschen, sie indirekt zu besthtigen."'

Mautz attributes this rejection to Heym's awareness that this concept

41 of art exerted a powerful influence upon his own development. But as we have seen, (and will see further), Heym's rejection of the traditional world view and concept of art resulted in a poetic style which consisted largely of negations and transvaluations of the old images and values. FOOTNOTES

Chapter One

^Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 57. 2 cf. use of moon motif, p. 62. 3 The brackets show that this stanza was crossed out in the original manuscript. According to Schneider (I, 745), this means that the poet might have eliminated it from the final version, or at least that he intended to modify it in some way.

^Heym, III, 167.

'’Note that Tlirme is a characteristic symbol of the city for Heym. See also: Die Menschen stehen vorwttrts in den Strassen (I, 440) o r O k to b ern ach t, da s c h w a rz die T lirm e ste c h e n (I, 140). Towers and steeples also provide a connection between earth and heavens, situated on the earth and reaching up into the sky.

^cf. last stanza of Der Krieg I (I, 347)

^Kurt Mautz, Mythologie und Gesellschaft im Expressionismus. Die Dichtung Georg Heyms. (Bonn & Frankfurt: Athenhum, 1961), p. 91. Q Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 81.

^cf. Halber Schlaf (1,401), Die Menschen stehen vorwMrts in den Strassen (1,440).

^K asper Heinrich Spinner, Der Mond in der deutschen Dichtung von der Aufkltirung dis zue SptLtromantik, (Bonn: H. Bouvier, 1969), p. 99.

126 127

H r , Li. Schneider, "Themen und Tendenzen der expression- istischen Lyrik: Anmerkungen zum Antltradltlonalismus bei den DLchtern des 'Neuen Clubs'" Formkr^fte der deutschen Dichtung, ed. Hans Steffen, (GBttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1967), p. 254.

^Mautz, p. 91. 1 Q Georg Heym, "Eine Fratze, " Dichtungen und Schriften. Band II: Prosa und Dramen, ed. K. L, Schneider, (Hamburg & Miinchen: Ellermann, 1962), p. 173.

■^Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck. p. 51.

^Mautz, p. 260.

^Krispyn, p. 100.

^M autz, pp. 224-247.

^Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 43.

^H eym compares the moon to a ship on several occasions:

Am hohen Himmel segelt durch das Blau Der Mitternacht des Mondes Schifflein sacht. (I, 19)

Des Mondes Schiffleinsteht schon im Zenit. (I, 19)

Des Mondes rote Sichelschwamm im Schoss D e r tie fe n N acht. (I, 63)

Der Nebel steigt vor Mondes grossem Reif Den trlib die Wolken drctngen, wie ein Heer Der Haie um ein segelloses Schiff. (I, 107)

^Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 79.

^Schneider, p. 60.

^Schneider, p. 43.

^M autz, p. 122, n. 8.

^Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 47-49. 128

O C It is common practice for Heym to represent people in term s of one feature, and the reference to backs commonly denotes the herd, as in Savanarola, written at around the same time:

Er flUstert leise. tlbertbnt vom Schrein. Ein Riese tanzt, der mit den Geisseln fegt Das Meer der RUcken. Blutdampf steigt wie Wein. (I, 159) 2(1. See also: Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 31.

^M autz, p. 347.

28 Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 27.

^Schneider, p. 21.

^Especially Mautz, pp. 252-3.

^■^Mautz, p. 250.

■^Mautz, p. 252. 33 Schneider, Der bildhafte Ausdruck. p. 54.

"^Mautz1 assertion that the church tower represents Stefan George because Heym once called George "eine tbnerne Pagode" in a polemic against the neoromantics and symbolists appears highly ques­ tionable, p. 252.

^M autz, p. 250.

^^Mautz, p. 200.

•^Mautz, p. 200.

^Fluge, Etymologisches Wbrterbuch, (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1967), p. 30.

■^Mautz, p. 99.

^M autz, p. 250. 129

^Indeed, Heym used every opportunity to proclaim his rejec­ tion of the appellation "George-Schiiler", which was frequently used by critics to describe him:

A m m e is te n feLrgert es m ich , d a ss d e r P r e s s h e n g s t des Berliner Tageblatts, dieser armselige Botokude, der aus seinen Zeitungshtihlen herausgekrochen ist, um sein blbdes Gesicht in alle 4 Winde zu hhngen, damit sie es abschleifen, dass dieser Hohlkopf mich einen Schiller Georges nennt, wer mich kennt, weiss was ich von diesem ttilpelhaften Hierophanten, verstiegener Erfinder der kleinen Schrift und Lorbeertrhger ipso iure halte. (Ill, 139) CHAPTER II

INNER LANDSCAPE

The poems discussed in this chapter are similar to those in chapter one insofar as man's vulnerability and lack of control over events are the prominent themes. There, however, the primary attention focused upon the oppressive forces represented by the cosmos. In Ultima Hora the individual oppressed by the cosmic forces became the center of interest; in the poems under discussion here, the poet concentrates upon the reaction of the individual.

Where Ultima Hora dealt with a representative individual in the third person, the following six poems present some aspect of the

"I". Such poems are not frequent among Heym's works, and they vary considerably in form, yet all have in common the necessity to escape or retreat from an unbearable reality. These poems offer another approach to the metaphysical problems of time, the eternal, and the nature of reality.

Schneider views Heym's expressions of crisis-consciousness as a personal problem of the poet: "Die Bilder Heyms, insbesondere die dynamisierenden, sind symptomatische Umschreibungen einer

130 131 inneren Krise, ihr unmlttelbarer Ausdruck und der Ansatz zu ihrer tfbe rwindung. Schneider's assertion that Heym is presenting what are prim arily objectifications of his own anxieties and frustrations appears to conflict with Heym's own description of his view of reality and his function as a poet. He insisted that he was "der Mann der 2 Dinge" and "der Spiegel des Aussen, " and he evaluated his develop­ ment as a poet as follows:

Denn ich habe gelernt, zu schauen, ohne zu wlinschen, einfach zu betrachten . . . ich habe gelernt, mit den Dingen zu rechnen, und auf ihrer Blbsse und Torheit zu stehen und allem eine neue Schbnheit abzugewinnen.

Mautz views Heym's infrequent treatment of first-person experience in a historical context:

Was in der Lyrik Heym's und der expressionistischen allgemein nach "Ausdruck" verlangt, ist vielmehr der Widerstand der Individuen auf verlorenem Posten gegen die kollektiv verhhngte Verfremdung der Menschen voneinander und ihr entstelltes, night mehr menschengemhsses Leben . . . Weil es etwas Allgemeines, das durch den geschichtlichen Weltzustand bedingte und daher auch als "Weltende" angeschaute Verhy.ngnis "aller" ist, um das es der expressionistischen Lyrik geht, verstummt in ihr das individuelle, perstinliche Ich des Dichters. ^

Mautz continues to explain that first-person lyrics do still occasionally occur in Heym's poetry: "In der Lyrik Heyms ist neben anderen Ubergangsph.y.nomenen auch dieses Hinschwinden des personalen lyrischen "Ich" zu verfolgen. Wo es in ihr noch begegnet, ist es ein von anderen abgeschnittenes, sich selber fremdes, sich 132

r verlierendes, verlorenes oder bedrohtes Ich. "

We know, of course, that Heym's early poetry was completely dominated by the "I". The virtual disappearance of the "I" is indeed a phneomenon of transition, but since Heym dies so early, his goal was not evident. The fact that the poet regarded his art as "dealing with things" suggests that he did not consider his poetry to be an expression of exclusively private feelings, yet the impression of a

"koilektiv verhhngte Verfremdung" does not emerge either. Instead

Heym gives expression to a change of perspective which cannot be ascribed solely to the subject or to a change in the nature of the object. The difference in perspective means that the familiar suddenly has a strange face, and the subject, not able to determine the nature or meaning of the change, and with the memory of the old world still alive, is uncertain and anxious. It is this particular phenomenon which provides the basis for our discussion. We are no longer interested in debating whether such a "sich selber fremdes, sich verlierendes, verlorenes oder bedrohtes Ich" exists. Rather, given that it does exist, our task is to investigate how Heym deals with this phenomenon and how it determines the appearance of his metaphysical landscape. Our main interest is Heym's choice of images and how they are used to make the problem "real", not in term s of everyday reality, with which they are frequently in conflict, but of the poetic reality which Heym created. 133

N acht

D ra u ss e n Die Dachtraufen L aufen. Und der Sturm In Wolken verborgen Im ersten Zwielicht Trostloser Morgen Sttihnt in die Gas sen Immer hinein.

Und du wie ein Stein Geworfen in

Schlaf ein. Du bist allein In der Nacht. Niemand wacht. Schlaf ein. (I, 388)

The first stanza of Nacht concentrates upon the description of nature phenomena. The opening "Draussen" provides at least a super­ ficial spatial orientation, although its opposite, that which happens inside, is less explicitly stated, (lines loff. ) The opening stanza consists of two sentences: the first concentrates upon a seemingly minor and harmless phenomenon, the flow of water from the eaves; the second reveals the apparent source of the water, a storm. In nine brief lines the poet presents only two images, and neither one in great detail. In fact, no nature "picture" or "landscape" emerges.

Instead, the poet presents his material in such a way that an over­ whelming impression of barrenness and monotony is conveyed. 134

The potential nature description undergoes a reduction and becomes a

series of metaphors for desolation and sterility. Lines 1-3 consist of

little more than the minimum subject and verb necessary to a sentence

The only other element, the adverb of location "draussen", is so

generalized as to provide the absolute minimum of information. Two features of the picture attract attention. First, there is no time limitation imposed upon the action described; there is no beginning

and no end. The flow of water may continue into infinity. Second, there is no direction expressed for the flow of water; it merely runs without a goal. The image epitomizes monotonous futility.

Despite the length of the second sentence, its construction is as simple as the first. The subject, modified by two parallel inter­ jections, receives a straightforward predicate consisting of a verb and a prepositional phrase without any subordinate clauses. Although the increased length must supply added information, the storm remains featureless and lacking definition. Again, one aspect is underscored in every line; grayness and barrenness predominate and are inten­ sified, particularly by "trostlos" (1.7) and the image of the storm ceaselessly moaning in the streets. The storm hidden in clouds reinforce the opacity and grayness of the total picture, while the idea of repetitiveness and monotony is intensified by the lines "Im ersten

Zwielicht/Trostloser Morgen, " which extend the action from a unique 135

occurrence to a repeated condition, as well as by "immer" in line 9. ^

The atmosphere of desolation is underlined by the indication of time; the poet chooses the pre-dawn hours, when the feeling of isolation reaches its peak. Indeed, there is no sign of humanity or human con­ cerns in stanza I. The '‘landscape", such as it is, is devoid of inhabitants; only the storm is in the streets.

The monotony is further intensified by the predominance of a, Jib o, and u sounds in the opening stanza. This is not conven­ tional Klangmalerei, instead the repetition of hollow sounds produces an impression of emptiness and repetitiveness. The straightforward syntax and lack of all but minimal punctuation contribute to the heavy, almost sluggish, yet fluid quality of the entire picture.

The second stanza, (connected to the first syntactically, at least, by "und" in line 10), continues the intensification begun in lines 5-9, and concentrates upon the reaction of the subject to the condition described. The persona is described by the image "Wie ein

Stein/ Geworfen in 6de, " which portrays an isolated, abandoned, utterly purposeless existence. The persona is cast into barrenness, an isolated, worthless object. The image is reminiscent of the moon's subjects in Oktobernacht. da schwarz die Tilrme stechen;

"Die ungezhhlt ... I Am dunklen Himmel hingeworfen sind, " but here the action seems weightier, more final, less expansive and 136 dramatic than in the earlier poem. The word "Ode" (line 11) finally introduces directly the condition which the poet presented in the opening stanza by means of the two "nature” metaphors. Lines 10-13 appear to be a reaction to the condition of isolation and sterility already presented. The urge to scream may be directly caused by the condition "outside" (line 1), or the atmosphere outside may reflect an inner condition which makes the persona want to scream.

On the other hand, both the condition outside and the reaction of the persona may be components of a still greater complex rather than reflecting a direct causal relationship.

In the third stanza, the repeated command "Schlaf ein" frames a final statement of the persona's isolation. The brevity of expression is reminiscent of the opening lines, and the restatement of the theme of isolation brings the poem full circle, stating explicitly what was conveyed by the initial metaphors:

Du bist allein In der Nacht. Niemand wacht.

The command to sleep is reinforced by the simple statements and regular, slow, drowsy quality of the final stanza. There is a seductive quality expressed rather than fear. The commands urge the subject to escape monotony and isolation through sleep. 137

Halber Schlaf

Die Finsternis raschelt wie ein Gewand, Die Bclume torkeln am Himmelsrand.

Rette dich in das Herz der Nacht, Grabe dich schnell in das Dunkele ein, Wie in Waben. Mache dich klein, Steige aus deinem Bette.

Etwas will iiber die Briicken, Es s char ret mit Hufen krumm, Die Sterne erschraken so weiss.

Und der Mon4 wie ein Greis Watschelt oben herum Mit dem hbckrigen Rlicken. (I, 401)

In contrast to Nacht. Halber Schlaf begins with mysterious action: nDie Finsternis raschelt wie ein Gewand, / Die Bclume torkeln am Himmelsrand. " From the outset, darkness is no longer merely a visual phenomenon; rather, it has a tangible reality. An unknown force causes the darkness to rustle "Wie ein Gewand, " and this aural dimension increases the substance of the darkness, which shrouds the world like a garment. The intensity of the mysterious upheaval present in the poem is indicated from the beginning by its ability to affect a normally intangible condition such as darkness. In addition, the predominance of darkness suggests a primeval state in which the forces of chaos might be released.

In contrast to the intangibility of "Finsternis, " the trees in line 2 appear as representatives of the world of objects, which is also 138 affected by the unknown force. The verb "torkeln" suggests an uncon­ trolled movement; the trees may be shaken by some outside force, or they may be animated. In either case, they have been released from the normal rules of nature. The fact that the trees stagger "am

Himmelsrand" causes them to function as a connecting element between earth and sky. The disturbance is perceived initially at this point of union, contributing to the impression of an upheaval of cosmic proportions.

The first two lines present an inexplicable outbreak of chaos on the natural plane, extending potentially to the entire cosmos, as is explicitly stated in the final stanza. There is no identifiable force which initiates the upheaval. Similarly, the moment at which the outbreak occurs is not indicated, further shrouding its origin in m y s te ry .

The second stanza consists of four commands directed at an unidentified "Du". The first three commands all refer to some form of concealment and are essentially variations upon that one theme. The fourth command, "Steige aus deinem Bette, " is noteworthy primarily because it is a rather normal concrete, almost prosaic action in a context which tends to stress the unusual. Furthermore, it differs radically from the preceding commands, all of which advocate an inward flight. To climb out of bed is an act of exposure following 139

three commands for concealment. The last command would seem

logically to be the first; by putting it in final position Heym introduces

a further disruption of order by reversing the "normal" sequence of

events or possible actions in the second stanza.

The catastrophe suggested in the opening lines gains reality

and immediacy for the object of the commands when he is ordered:

"Rette dich in das Herz der Nacht. " The persona is in danger, and he

is directed to seek refuge "in das Herz der Nacht. " This formulation

gives an impression of depth; the persona seeks concealment at the

very center of darkness. As in the opening lines, darkness is a

palpable thing, with a substance and form which makes it possible to

speak not only of its "heart, " but also to command that the persona

bury himself in the dark: "Grabe dich schnell in das Dunkele ein. "

The adverb "schnell" points to the growing sense of urgency inherent

in the rapid commands of the second stanza. The idea of depth sug­

gested by "das Herz der Nacht" appears in concrete material form with the command "grabe dich . . . ein" in line 4, By this point,

darkness has been invoked by means of three totally different formu­

lations. "Finsternis" has a primeval, almost biblical quality--a

cosmic darkness comparable to the state prior to creation. "Das

Herz der Nacht" is a metaphor for darkness which, along with the

impression of depth, offers a kind of security, indicating the 140 possibility of reaching the very center of darkness. "Herz" may suggest a warmth, a Geborgenheit suggestive of Post-romantic formulations. In the final case, "das Dunkele" is a substantivized adjective, a formulation more abstract than "die Finsternis" and considerably less "poetic" than "das Herz der Nacht. " The full implications of "Grabe dich schnell in das Dunkele ein" become more apparent with the addition of the key simile "Wie in Waben, " and the command immediately following: "Mache dich klein. "

"Waben" is strongly emphasized, both syntactically and aurally, breaking up the nervous, almost breathless flow of words on both levels. There is a sense of being encapsulated. Security is to be found in a kind of natural, organic encapsulation. Heym uses "Waben" only rarely, and in the few other references, it is connected with confinement and/or death:

Es regnet diinn auf ihren kurzenRock. Sie schaun betrUbt die graue Wand empor, Wo kleine Fenster sind, mit Kasten vor, Wie schwarze Waben in dem Bienenstock. (I, 122)

Ich httre oft im Schlaf der Vampire Gebell Aus trliben Mondes Waben wie Geiy.chter, Und sehe tief in leeren Hbhlen Der heimatlosen Schatten Lichter. (I, 311)

Und die Toten kriechen allenthalben Gross wie Wiirmer aus dem Schoss der Acker Aus den Waben der zerfressenen CFelderX Die das kalte Blut der £Totenl lecken. (I, 359) 141

Nehmt Abschied von dem Licht. Ihr seht es nimmermehr. Ihr wohnet hoch in einer grossen Stadt Im Toten-Babylon mit tausend Gas sen Voll Wind und Sturm, in schwarzen Hhusern stumm, In eure Totenwaben hingelegt, (1,365) (Italics added.)

The repeated connection of "Waben" with the motifs of sleep,

darkness and death is too striking to be overlooked. In the last two

examples, "Waben" clearly refers to the grave. Even so, in Halber

Schlaf the concept of "Waben" is not treated negatively. Night and

darkness, contrary to their usual implications for Heym, provide a material refuge for the persona, an encapsulating chamber in which he may conceal himself. The fact that "Waben" is plural also raises some questions. Does "Waben" refer to a series of little cells, like a honeycomb? If so, does the persona inhabit more than one cell, or does the individual join a "community" of persons in hiding, rem i­ niscent of the "Toten-Babylon" referred to in the passage cited above? There is an inevitable plurality implied by "Waben" which suggests that the persona is not an isolated case; indirectly the "Du" of Halber Schlaf seems to provide a transition to the "Wir" of die

n Irren (see below) and other similar poems.

The command "Mache dich klein" is totally harmonious with the process of encapsulation suggested by the use of "Waben. " The command "to hide" is used literally: "klein" is a frequent item in

Heym's vocabulary and its meaning is not always totally innocent.

In the preceding chapter attention was called to Heym's frequent use 142

of a VergrBsserungstechnik, by which objects or creatures became

dangerous and threatening through an Increase in size. ® Heym also

employs the opposite technique: the terms "klein" and "winzig" in

particular often refer to that which is dead or marked for death:

Im kurzen Abend--voll Wind ist die Stunde, Und die RBte so tief und winterlich klein. Unsere Hand, die sich zagend gefunden, Bald wird sie frierend und einsam sein. (I, 448)

Wer iiber die Htihen geht, spiegelt sich ferne, In der winzigen Sonne, lichtlos und tot, (1,445)

Und der Wald Erschrickt, und sinkt zusammen, schwarz und klein, Unter GewBlk, das fliesst und hhngt und ballt, Eiszapfen grau, in gelben Dhmmers Schein, (I, 309)

The final command, "Steige aus deinem Bette, " is, as we have mentioned above, the only command capable of being realized on the primary, concrete level. All speculation about the order--or lack of order--in the sequence of commands yields only the impression that the poet wished to introduce an element of disruption even on the level of language by breaking up the tim e/space continuum in which the series of commands might occur. In addition, the placement of the only concrete action in final position increases the sense of urgency building throughout the entire second stanza. The first three com­ mands, all variations of the same idea, flow rapidly, but lead nowhere. The last command functions in this context almost as a 143

physical push toward concealment, a final spurt of panic-stricken

action which forms the bridge to the introduction of the object of fear:

"Etwas will iiber die Brilcken. 11 "Steige aus deinem Bette" occurs at

the point when the danger achieves a total reality, as it begins to take

a form which can be sensed, even visualized, whereas in the first

stanza only the effects of the force are perceptible. The increased

danger drives the persona from the accustomed security of his bed to

seek rescue and concealment in "das Herz der Nacht. " The persona is

exhorted to abandon the concrete, man-made security for a refuge in

the im m aterial--in a darkness which now has substance and offers a

possibility of concealment. In contrast to Nacht, where escape lay in

sleep, that method of escape is rejected in favor of a flight into

concealing darkness.

In stanza III the unknown threat begins to materialize. "Etwas

will iiber die BrUcken" is still vague and generalized: something wants

to get in. The fact that something "will iiber die Brlicken" suggests a

primitive force which wants without thinking. A primitive will batters

at the man-made barriers, "die Brlicken, " which are not barriers at

all, but rather points of connection, means of entry. "BrUcken" are usually employed by Heym as a sign for the city. The question arises

as to how literally "bridges" may be taken: is the "etwas" capable of

crossing real bridges, and is it meant to cross "bridges" in the 144

plural, all at once? Line 8, "Es scharret mit Hufen krum m ,11 gives

the "etwas" of the preceding line a more concrete form. Is it now

more threatening or less so? An "es" which paws with crooked

hooves might well cross a bridge, or wish to, but then what about the

plural form "Brilcken"? Obviously, logic and practical possibility

are not the primary concern here. Instead, the animal metaphor

extends the threat to another level of perception: the fear of the

human being, presumably urban man, for that which is suggested by a

predatory animal, something which only "wants" and cannot be reasoned

with or placated.

Line 9 apparently presents a reaction to the lines immediately

preceding. Conceptually, it belongs to the complex of lines 1-2 and

lines 10-13: the effects of the upheaval on the cosmic plane. The

time element Is disrupted however by placing "erschrecken" in the

past tense while everything else is expressed in the present. Surely, the sense of immediacy engendered by the use of the present, as well

as the sense of a dream -reality which we shall have to discuss in

connection with the poem's title, is undercut by the sudden shift into past tense. Perhaps the poet wished to indicate a sudden expansion of time, introducing the possibility that the imminent catastrophe has been threatening for eons, and that the white color of the stars has long been announcing the coming cataclysm. 145

In any case, the last stanza shifts again into the present tense,

and the pace of the poem slackens as attention is focused upon the

moon, the traditional symbol of order in the universe. The personi­

fication of the elements of the cosmos presented by "Die Sterne

erschraken so weiss" continues in the description of the moon, which

is presented as an old man, crippled and deformed. From the perspec­

tive of earth, the moon "watschelt oben herum/ Mit dem hbckrigen

Rticken. " The personification of the moon is removed from any

possible realism and seems totally subordinated to the overall effect

of the metaphor: the moon is a sign for a tottering, deformed,

impotent universe, which is being threatened and which is apparently

capable of being profoundly shaken. Heym used similar moon m eta­

phors in similar situations:

Da iiber den Himmel schleicht Der Mond breitmaulig und schief In dem herbstlichen Jahr. (I, 376)

Da der rostige Mond Kollerte unter den Rand Zu wolkiger Wolken Geknarre. (I, 495)

Ultimately, it is the possibility of the collapse of the very

order of the cosmos, hinted at in the opening lines, which dominates the poem and creates the feelings of fear and panic which motivate the

desperate search for security. In this light, the title Halber Schlaf,

indicating the transition between waking and sleeping, stands for the 146 ultimate vulnerability on the personal level: it is only in Halber Schlaf that the personal crisis investigated in this chapter affects the entire cosmos, a vision or prophecy of universal chaos which reveals itself when all the defences erected by consciousness have been lowered.

E r heisst Hiilikin Und wohnt in den Spiegeln, Dort kannst du sehen Seine linkischen Diener,

Und schwachen Hhnde In Dhmmerung Die kratzen die WRnde.

Liass ihn^herein^, Er hat dich lieb. Gib dich preis.

Sieh, wie er treibt G egen die OberflfeLche Und gegen die glhserne SchweLche Die Lippe reibt. Seine Hhnde sind wie bei (uni. Wort) weiss. (1,410)

The poem begins with the statement of the existence of a being whom the poet calls Hiilikin. Hlilikin's existence appears to be a

"given": it is never called into question. There is from the outset a fairytale quality in the statement "Er heisst HUlikin/Und wohnt in den

Spiegeln." The poet's method of presentation compels the reader to take Hlilikin's existence for granted. Once this is accomplished, the rules of logic and order, and those governing the dimensions, are suspended. Hlilikin's reality shapes the entire poem; through Hiilikin the poet creates an atmosphere of profound unease. 147

Hiilikin's existence seems at first glance to be confined solely to the m irror. "Und wohnt in den Spiegeln" makes it clear, however, that Hiilikin may be perceived in more than one m irror, in fact, in an indeterminate number of m irrors. There is a tantalizing ambiguity expressed by "und wohnt in den Spiegeln": it is not stated that

Hiilikin may be perceived in all m irrors or every m irror, but neither is his presence restricted to a specific number of m irrors or to any particular sort of m irror. The existence of "the M irrors" is as mysterious and yet as undeniably "given" as the existence of Hiilikin himself. The m irrors exist in no specific time/space continuum which would reveal them as embedded in a particular reality, no m atter how unusual, as is the case in the following passage:

Aber die Blitze zerrissen mit wilden und roten Augen die Nacht, die Ode der Shle zu hellen, Und in den Spiegeln standen m it Kbpfen, den grellen, Drohend herauf m it den schwarzen HUnden die Toten. (I, 335)

This particular m irror image appears in slightly varied form in the three successive versions of the poem Die Nacht produced in

August 1911. The passage cited above is in the final version, which evolved from the two versions cited below:

Bleibe bie mir. Dass, wenn die Augen der Blitze Aufgerissen und starr die Oder der Shle erhellen, Und aus der Tiefe der Spiegel steigen und quellen Bbse die Toten mit den Kbpfen, den grellen. (I, 322) 148

Blei.be bei mir. Wenn grausam die Auge der Blitze Aufgerissen und starr die (9de der Shle erhellen Und aus der Tiefe der Spiegel steigen und quellen Langsam die Toten herauf, mit den Kbpfen, den grellen. (I, 323)

These passages are interesting for several reasons. The three successive refinements of one image, taken with the m irror of

Hiilikin, make up four of the m ere six occasions when Heym employs the noun "Spiegel. They arouse interest because the m irror reveals images which are not directly identified as reflections of the perceiver.

In one final case, the subjects of Hora Mortis identify themselves as m i r r o r s :

Trilb wie die Winde, im Schierling, bei Biischen undWeiden Haben wir unsere HfeLnde im Dunkel gesenkt, Und dann gingen wir lhssig, und freutenuns unsere Leiden, Arme Spiegel, darin sich ein diisterer Abend felngt. (I, 320)

In this case, too, the normal function of the m irror, to reflect the image of the perceiver, is distorted. This is also consistent with

Heym's use of the verb "spiegeln" in an intransitive sense:

Dann standest du in einem Traum versonnen, Auf eine niedre Mauer sanft gelehnt, Und spiegeltest die weisse Stirn so gern In grliner Himmel milden Abendsonnen. (I, 292)

The perversion of the function of the m irror is evident in the fact that the perceiver does not see himself in the m irror: "Dort kannst du sehen/ Seine linkischen Diener/ Und schwachen Hhnde. "

The image of Hiilikin forces away the normal reflection of the persona. 149

More than that, HUlikin acknowledges the presence of the persona by his "linkischen Diener. 11 "Linkisch" has a multiple meaning. Taken in combination with Hlilikin's "schwachen HUnde" an impression of clumsiness and awkwardness is created. At the same time, "linkisch" suggests in this connection the meaning "reversed"; HUlikin, appearing in the m irror, produces a reversed image, but, since he is treated as totally separate from the persona, it is never explained whose image he reflects.

The impression of weakness and awkwardness engendered by the references to "linkischen Diener" and "schwachen HUnde" is immediately undermined by the succeeding image of Hlilikin's hands:

"In DUmmerung/ Die kratzen die Wfelnde. " HUlikin's hands would logically be weak since he is merely a reflection in a m irror and possesses no substance of his own. But if this were so, how would he be able to scratch the walls? The ambiguity of "die WUnde" makes the problem even more difficult. In contrast to the passages from

Die Nacht, where the m irror motif appears in a relatively concrete,

* realistic setting, HUlikin is virtually devoid of the reality reflected reflected by references to concrete objects. The m irrors and the deliberately non-specific reference to "the walls" are the only objects in the poem.

"In DUmmerung" is sim ilarly the only explicit reference to time. Even so, it is as much a condition (i. e. : darkness) as it is 150

a time. When Hlilikin's hands scratch the walls he gains a material

form, and the possibility occurs that he can leave the m irror. "Die

WUnde" might be taken to refer to the confines of the m irror, although

this seems unlikely in light of the concluding stanza. Instead, it

appears that HUlikin has the power to scratch at some indeterminate

number and sort of walls. The only condition for this capability seems

to be darkness. The act of attributing an animal-like action to an

image in a m irror is stated in the same matter-of-fact way as the

original assertion of HUlikin's existence, and the manner of the asser­ tion again leaves little opoortunity for objection.

The description of HUlikin is interrupted by a series of commands directed at the persona. This is, of course, reminiscent of Nacht and Halber Schlaf. Here, two commands bracket a statement establishing a direct relationship between HUlikin and the persona:

"Er hat dich lieb. " The order "Lass ihn herein" cannot be taken literally: the persona cannot possess the power to release an image from the m irror. "Herein" is sufficiently ambiguous to raise the question whether HUlikin is to be released into a room or into the persona himself. The second command, "Gib dich preis" appears to : be an interpretation of the first command. To "let him in" apparently requires that the persona surrender to some force outside himself.

HUlikin, despite the initial assertion of weakness, clearly represents a power which threatens the persona, a fact which is established by the 151 persona's obvious reluctance to "let him in. " The statement "Er hat dich lieb" seems to be both a reassurance and a threat. The persona is a willing or unwilling participant in a relationship with the entity called HUlikin. The fact that HUlikin "wohnt in den Spiegeln" suggests from the outset that the persona might be perceiving some form of himself. The objectification of that reflection and the consistent treatment of it as an independent entity establishes the persona's unwillingness to accept it as an image of himself. The command

"Gib dich preis" seems to demand an exposure, a self-revelation as well as surrender. The involvement of the persona in the description of HUlikin is explicitly stated from line 3, where the description concentrates upon what the persona perceives "in den Spiegeln. "

In the final stanza, the immediacy of the persona's involvement is increased by the command "Seih. " Although HUlikin does not succeed in escaping from the m irror, his power seems to increase, his efforts are magnified. The force of "Sieh, wie er treibt/ Gegen die OberflUche" is expanded by the variation and restatement of the following two lines: "Und gegen die glhserne SchwUche/ Die Lippe reibt. " The surface of the m irror, "die Oberf lEche, " rapidly becomes "die glhserne SchwUche, " intimating that the surface is penetrable. "Die glUserne SchwUche" is both more specific and more ominous, emphasizing the brittle weakness of the barrier separating 152

HUlikin from the persona. The act of rubbing his lips against the sur­

face of the m irror reemphasizes the bond between HUlikin and the

persona, giving it a distinctly erotic character. Unlike the seductive

reassurances of Nacht. the element of perversion and the resistance of

the persona are the focal of Er heisst HUlikin. The final line, incom­

plete as it is, delivers at least some indication of the source of the

persona's resistance. Focusing again on the figure's hands, attention

is concentrated upon their color. In Heym's color language, white is

often employed to express terror. The combination of a threatening

figure in a m irror and the focus upon the hands is strongly reminscent

of the final version of Die Nacht already cited above:

Und in den Spiegeln standee mit Kbpfen, den grellen Drohend herauf mit schwarzen HUnden die Toten. (I, 335)

In HUlikin, the direct relationship of the force reflected in the

m irror and the persona provides the material for the poem. The

persona perceives something threatening in the m irror and refuses to

accept it. The fear and resistance of the persona is magnified by the treatment of the threatening force as a separate entity with a name and

an independent existance. The inability to cope with what can only be

an internal force is reflected in a perverted fairy tale quality which finds no resolution, and communicates an atmosphere of profound u n ease. 153

Spitzkbpfig kommt er liber die Dhcher hoch Und schleppt seine gelben Haare nach, Der Zauberer, der still in die Himmelszimmer steigt In vieler Gestirne gewundenem Blumenpfad.

Alle Tie re unten im Wald und Gestriipp Liegen mit Hhuptern sauber geka.mmt, Singend den Mond-Choral. Aber die Kinder Knien in den Bettchen in weissem Hemd.

Meiner Seele unendlicher See Ebbet langsam in sanfter Flut. Ganz griin bin ich innen. Ich schwinde hinaus Wie ein glhserner Luftballon. (1,482)

Spitzkbpfig kommt er marks the final occasion when Heym

devotes an entire poem to the moon motif. The poet's tendency to

abstract the moon image from the concrete, realistic plane and to

surround it with mythical, almost archetypical trappings--already

evident in Luna II - - is strongly in evidence here. The word "moon"

only appears in the composite "Mond-Choral" in stanza II. The image

itself is subjected to a process of abstraction on the level of language by the exclusive use of metaphors. The opening stanza presents an extended, highly decorative personification involving a more complex syntax than the poet generally favors. The moon is presented initially by a purely visual image, relying heavily upon adjectives and adverbs. As the moon makes its entrance, the primary features are its head ("spitzkbpfig"; "siene gelben Haare") and its movement through space ("Uber die Dhcher hoch"; "schleppt . . . nach"). 154

The masculine figure of the opening lines Is not Immediately

Identified as the moon, nor does its movement have the deliberate-- though menacing--grandeur of other moon images. Instead, an unnamed figure rises over the roofs, his pointed head and mysterious errand reminiscent of the m urderers and thieves who are among

Heym's most frequent nocturnal wanderers:

Die Mtirder aber hiipfen Auf ihren spitzen Zehen, Die in die Tiiren schHipfen Und in den Treppen stehen Mit dttsterem Gemunkel. (1,433)

Mit spitzem Dolche in dem Bratenrocke Die Mbrder humpeln jetzt auf ihren Zehen. In alien Winkeln sitzen sie und stehen Und ihre Augen werfen bdse Blicke. (I, 459)

Und die Diebe schleichen iiber die Treppen hinan, Springen oben tiber die Bttden mit schlankerndem Bein, Und manchmal flackert heraus ihr Laternenschein. (1, 390)

Die W&chter wandeln sanft und tuten hell Luft-Diebe springen iiber die Tiiren schnell. Auf einmal fctllt ein breiter Lampenschein Vom Mond-Gehdfte in die Nacht hinein. (I, 427)

By identifying the moon as "der Zauberer" in line 3, the poet again endows the moon with mysterious primitive powers. The remainder of the first stanza is a restatement and expansion of the initial picture. The movement above the roofs in line one is varied and extended by "der still in die Himmelszimmer steigt. " The rising 155

movement is the same, yet while "Uber die D ither hoch" concentrates

upon the moon's movement away from the level of human habitation,

"in die Himmelszimmer" focuses upon the goal toward which the moon

is traveling. The sense of outward expansion is limited, however, by

the concept of "Himmelszimmer", which seems to set boundaries as

well as revealing space. "Himmelszimmer" delimits an area by

carrying the concept of human habitation suggested by the roofs,

(line one), over into the heavens. Line 4 parallels the preceding

line, while the stars and flowers metaphor removes the image another

step further from the everyday reality upon which it is based. This

time attention is concentrated upon neither the point of departure nor the destination, but rather upon the course itself. The colorful

language and decorative style of "in vieler Gestirne gewundenem

Blumenpfad" is strongly reminiscent of Jugendstil. Unlike so many of

Heym's moon images, there is very little in stanza I to indicate a threat. Despite the potential danger of the moon’s "magic" powers, the image is in strong contrast to a similar one in a poem from the same period.

Und riesige Monde Steigen tlber die Dtlcher mit steifen Beinen Den fiebernden Schiaiern tief in die Kammer zu scheinen, Und die Stirne wird fahl wie frierendes Leinen. (I, 466)

Unlike Luna II, where attention is focused on the moon throughout, the remaining two stanzas concentrate upon reactions to 156

the moon's influence. In this way, the moon approaches its ultimate

status as a sign for what must in general term s be called "harmful

influence. " Heym subjects the moon motif to a process of reduction

and abstraction which was becoming characteristic of his treatment of

im ag es.

In stanza II the focus shifts from the heavens to the earth.

Stanza II deals with the reactions of two groups: "Alle Tiere" and

" die Kinder. " The animals in the forest appear docile and submissive

to order. They lie "mit Hhuptern suaber gekhmmt. 11 This occurs in the world of nature, "im Wald und Gestriipp, " which would appear primitive and unordered in comparison to the human world indicated

in line one. But it is the animals who sing the moon-chorale. The submissive attitude indicated by "liegen" and the worshipful character of a moon-chorale suggest willing acceptance of the power exerted by the moon. The children kneel in their beds--also a worshipful attitude--but "aber" suggests that their reaction must be different from that of the animals. That they kneel "in weissem Hemd" may suggest purity and innocence, but for Heym white may mean fear and vulnerability.

In the final stanza there is another shift in focus. While stanza

II dealt with undifferentiated groups, "alle Tiere" and "die Kinder," stanza III limits its attention to one individual. In actuality, the 157

stanza concentrates prim arily upon the inner condition of the persona,

particularly lines 9~11.

The entire stanza presents the retreat of the persona, which is

both a reaction to the moon and a submission to its power. "Meiner

Seele unendlicher See' reveals the possibilities of the water image: it

is fluid, limitless, presumably eternal--and, controlled by the moon,

the soul retreats like the tides. The statement "ganz griin bin ich

innen" is purely expressive of an internal state and has no objective

correlative on the natural plane. The final image, in which the

persona literally takes flight, poses an interesting contrast to the

initial water image. Whereas the water image evoked fluidity and a

complete lack of contours or limits, the glass balloon of the final

line presents an even more formless commodity--air--enclosed in a

brittle shell. The vulnerability of the retreating "Ich", its possi­

bility for endless expansion and equal possibility for destruction is a perfect image for the threatened condition of the persona.

D ie I r r e n

Rein ist das Licht um unsere Tage Wie ein bleicherer Sonnenschein. Und wie reife Blumen stehn wir und ragen In das frbhliche JLicht voller Blhue hinein.

Frrl'her sassen wir tief in dumpfen Stuben Und das wolkige Leben fiber uns fort, Und wir horchten immer aus unseren Gruben Grauen Himmeln zu, in dem schl&frigen Ort. 158

Jemand hat uns gerufen, wir durften nicht warten, Unsere Wege 20gen durch Triibes lang, Und die wandernden Tage, die harten, Machten fltichtiger unseren Gang.

Hinter uns gehet noch Schall, und das dumpfe Rauschen ^Wie von) stillen W assern, versunkener Welt. Manchmal noch drehn wir die Schultern und lauschen Wenn ein Schrei wie ein Stein in die Ruhe uns ffeLllt.

Sind wir doch froh, und gekleidet in schtine Gewirke, Wir sitzen singend im ltlndlichen Wald. Und er darf nicht herein in unsere Bezirke, Der in den Zaun seine Hhnde noch krallt.

Nicht mehr lange danach, dass wir BMume werden Wie wir waren dereinst in dem friiheren Sein, Ruhig wie schlafende Trhume auf dunkeler Erde, Niemand fasset in unsere Adern hinein. (I, 449)

Stanza I begins with a general statement characterizing the present existence of the speakers. It is interesting that this characterization barely includes the speakers themselves; the light which surrounds them is of primary interest. Lines 1-2 begin and end with the concept of purity; the poet describes the light as "rein" in line 1, then modifies the concept of purity by means of the simile in line 2: "wie ein bleicherer Sonnenschein. 11 In this way, "rein" and

"bleich" become corresponding terms: purity equals a degree of paleness. The only other noun in the opening lines, "Tage, " a general term relating to time, assumes the specific character of a personalized existence through "unsere". Just as "unsere Tage" distinguishes this particular existence of the speakers from any other, so does the comparative form "wie ein bleicherer Sonnenschein" emphasize the 159

distinctive quality of the light which pervades that special existence.

There is a barrier erected between the speakers and the rest of the

world. The light which characterizes their existence is distinctive

because of its purity, and its purity is distinguished by paleness.

Lines 3-4 are connected to the preceding lines by "und, " which

does not indicate a causal relationship between the two pairs of lines

so much as a kind of spatial relationship. The speakers are placed

into the light, or rather grow up into it: "rageo . . . hinein. "

"Stehen" in line 3 suggests that the speakers are stationary, yet ragen

demands a movement of the eye to follow the image as it unfolds. The

rather abrupt movement of "ragen . . . hinein" indicates a stiffness

and immovability on the part of the speakers; they appear already on their way to becoming trees. At this point, however, "wie reife

Blumen" suggests far less rigidity. "Reif" indicates fulfillment; the

speakers appear to have reached the culminating stage of their develop­ ment. Line 4 reinforces the overwhelming impression of brightness and color which pervades the first stanza. The light is far more fully described than the speakers, who are characterized by means of one simile, "wie reife Blumen. "

Stanza I is dominated by nouns, particularly those relating to light; this gives the picture a distinctly static quality. Nothing happens in stanza I, and this in fact seems to be the leading characteristic of 160 the speakers' existence. In this way, "rein" and "bleich" come to

denote sterility.

Stanzas II and III shift in time to the past, introduced by

"friiher. " These two stanzas stand in opposition to the impression of light and color created in the opening stanza. Whereas the only movement indicated in stanza I was the abrupt upward motion and expansion of "ragen . . . hinein, " stanza II in particular concentrates upon the concepts of depth, darkness and confinement. In stanza I the speakers were surrounded by nothing more substantial than light and sunshine, while stanza II emphasizes limits and confinement with

"tief in dumpfen Stuben" (1.5) and "aus unseren Gruben" (1.7). The passivity of the speakers is expressed in line 6: "Und das wolkige

Leben rann iiber uns fort. " The speakers appear fixed, and life not only ran by them, but also ran over them. The speakers were sub­ merged, not even carried along by the current of life. The fact that life "rann iiber uns fort" suggests how inexorably life continued, running heedlessly over the speakers and away from them. If life had a goal or mission, it remained hidden from the speakers, who only registered that it passed away from them. The nebulous quality of life in the past is expressed by the formulation "das wolkige Leben, " which refers to a life which resists definition, understanding, control.

"Das wokige Leben" is also a further allusion to darkness; a life of 161 perpetual overcast is contrasted with "das frbliche Licht voller Blhue"

of line 4.

Lines 7-8 illuminate another aspect of the speakers1 form er existence. Presumably their listening is directed toward the call referred to in line 9, although such a causal relationship is disrupted chronologically. The repetition implied by "immer" (1. 7) contributes to the atmosphere of monotony and dullness created in the preceding two lines. In line 7 the "dumpfen Stuben" (1. 5), already dull and confining, are devalued to "Gruben, " suggesting both an animal-like existence and the condition of insanity. The speakers' listening is directed out of the depths toward the heavens, but ths sky is gray, opaque, impenetrable and colorless, like "das wolkige Leben. " The heaviness, colorlessness, repetitiveness and monotony evoked throughout stanza II culminate in the final formulation "in dem schlhfrigen Ort. " This is a location characterized by its effect: sleepy, dulling and heavy.

In line 9 an unknown force or individual exerts power upon the speakers, who are not allowed to ignore the summons or delay their response. The speakers are summoned to a form of action; but that action seems to occur independently of the speakers, while they remain passive, since "Unsere Wege zogen durch Triibes lang" virtually excludes them from the action performed. "Triibes" suggests a generalized condition not precisely defined. The descriptive adjective

is invested with a substance of its own, through which the speakers

travel. The phrase "durch Triibes lang" seems to suggest that

"Triibes" is both a spatialized and temporalized condition. In lines

11-12 time acquires movement as well as substance. The speakers

continue to appear fixed while the days are wandering. Stanzas II and

III present life as a fluid medium moving along inexorably, while the

speakers are only superficially involved. The fluid time dimension

affects the speakers' progress as they respond to the summons by

making their course "fliichtiger. " This underscores the impression

that the speakers lack all sense of belonging to life; they are fugi­

tives. "Fliichtig" also emphasizes the transitory nature of life

already suggested by "und das wolkige Leben rann iiber uns fort" and

"die wandernden Tage. " The adjective "hart, 11 applied to days,

corresponds to "Triibes" used earlier, suggesting the oppressive

nature of the speakers' existence, yet it also looks ahead to "fliichtig,"

by indicating the implacability of time. The hasty, fugitive progress

of the speakers also indicates their lack of substance, power and

independence.

Stanza IV returns to the present after the narrative past of the preceding two stanzas. The phrase "hinter uns" opening line 13

appears to be more than a spatial orientation, since it corresponds to 163

"friiher" of line 5. Thus, the treatment of time as a spatial dimension

continues in Stanza IV. "Noch" shows that the condition described in

the stanzas immediately before still persists, although the speakers

claim to have left it behind. That condition is characterized primarily

by sound: "Schall" and "das dumpfe Rauschen/ Wie von stillen

Wassern. " The repetition of "dumpf" reemphasizes the dullness and

monotony evoked above. The noise emanates from a "versunkene

Welt, " which continues the idea of depth of stanza II. Lines 13-14

indicate that, despite the light which now permeates the speakers'

existence, the grayness and monotony are still there behind them and

still intrude occasionally, as we see in lines 15-16. The speakers

occasionally turn back to listen, suggesting that the former existence

is still close enough to be perceived directly. "Manchmal drehn wir

die Schultern und lauschen" appears to be a not quite human reaction;

there is stiffness and mechanical quality about the action, as if

rigidity and paralysis are setting in.

The scream which disturbs them has extraordinary substance;

it plunges into their serenity like a stone. Apparently "Ruhe" is fragile, able to be penetrated by sounds from the other existence.

Indeed, the scream appears more substantial than the condition of

serenity which it invades.

In line 17, "Sind wir doch froh" appears to be a response to the

intrusion of the other world described in lines 15-16, and a reassurance that the speakers have indeed left that world behind.

Unlike line 4, where "frBhlich" was applied only to the surrounding atmosphere, "froh" applies directly to the speakers. The entire line

"Sind wir doch froh, und gekleidet in schfcine Gewirke" delivers an unusual equation of "froh", an emotional state, and "gekleidet in schfcine G e w irk e ," d e sc rib in g the s p e a k e rs ' outw ard a p p e a ra n c e . By equating the state of mind with the clothing of the speakers, both seem to be relativized, until "Frbhlichkeit" appears as superficial as the beautiful garments. Line 18 presents an idyllic picture in sharp contrast to the earlier darkness and confinement of stanza II. Where before the speakers listened, they are now characterized by their singing, while the act of singing is contrasted with the "Schall" and

"Schrei" of earlier stanzas. Lines 17-18 are strongly reminiscent of lines 1-4. The impressions of light, space and color are again evoked, but this time the impressions are immediately undercut by the "doch" of line 17 and by the persistent intrusion of the other world revealed in lines 19_20: "Und er darf nicht herein in unsere Bezirke, / Der in den

Zaun seine Hhnde noch krallt. " "Unsere Bezirke" is set off from the rest of the world,' just as the light was different "um unsere Tage" in lines 1-2. The individual who is prohibited from entering the speakers' domain is identified solely by an action. The person who still struggles against confinement may not enter the speakers' idyllic existence; 165 apparently only the totally passive are welcome in that realm.

Although "kralit" causes the action of the intruder to appear animal-like, it is interesting to note that the strangers still has hands with which to struggle. The speakers, as we have seen above, move only by turning their shoulders, and their only other feature is

’!Adern" in the final line. The serenity of the speakers appears to accompany a reduction of normal action and normal human features.

The image of a fence occurs less prominently in an earlier poem, also entitled die Irren, where the insane are much more active:

Der Mond tritt aus der gelben Wolkenwand, Die Irren hhngen an den Gitterstclben, Wie grosse Spinnen, die an Mauern kleben. Entlang den Gartenzaun fhhrt ihre Hand. (I, 91)

Stanza IV is closely related in tone to the opening stanza,

(including a similar set of rhymes), as well as to the stanza immedi­ ately preceding. The oppressiveness of the intervening stanzas appears to be overcome. The time reference "Nicht mehr lange danach" in line 21 appears to mark a return to the idea of culmination indicated by "reife Blumen" of line 3. Fulfillment appears to be the completion of a process of Erstarrung indicated by the image of becoming trees. The idyllic scene of lines 17-18 undergoes a striking transformation: fulfillment no longer means being surrounded by the forest, but rather lies in becoming the forest. The counterpoise to the animal existence hinted at by stanza II and particularly by lines 19-20 166

is a vegatative existence. Line 22 suggests that by becoming trees the

speakers are returning to a kind of Urexistenz. At any rate, the

achievement of peace seems to entail a complete sacrifice of

humanity. The regular, falling cadence of line 23 expresses a

seductive, almost hypnotic serenity. The prim ary emphasis is upon

"ruhig, 11 a state seemingly distinct from the "Ruhe" of stanza IV in

that it can no longer be disturbed. There is a return to darkness, but

this time there is no mention of confinement; instead, the image of

"schlafende Trhume" suggests an almost limitless expansion. The

speakers will achieve freedom in a state of virtual non-existence,

since "sleeping dreams" are totally insubstantial and elusive: memories, forgotten dreams, even potential dreams. In line 24 the

speakers have become untouchable and incapable of being disturbed or

interfered with. "Adern" represents life on the most basic level, and this is the form of existence which is free. For "die Irren, " peace

requires an evolution to a state of non-existence.

The reference to "schlafende Trelume" and the idea of evolution

into another form to achieve peace suggests the anxious questions of the dead at the end of Die Morgue:

Ruhen wir uns aus im stummen Turm, vergessen? Werden wir Wellen einer Lethe sein? Oder, dass Sturm uns treibt um Winteressen, Wie Dohlen reitend auf dem Feuerschein? 167

Werden wir Blumen sein? Werden wir Vbgel werden, Im Stolze des Blauen, Im Zorne der Meere weit? Werden wir wandern in den tiefen Erden, Maulwilrfe stumm in toter Einsamkeit?

Werden wir in den Docken der Friihr wohnen, Werden wir bltihen im Baum, und schlummern in Frucht, Oder Libellen blau auf den See-Anemonen Zittern am Mittag in schweigender W asser Bucht?

Werden wir sein, wie ein Wort von niemand gehtiret? Oder ein Rauch, der flattert im Abendraum? Oder ein Weinen, das plBtzlich Freudige stBret? Oder ein Leuchter zur Nacht? Oder ein Traum? (1,474-5)

Unlike the speakers of Die Morgue, who finally suspect that their ultimate state will be nothingness, the speakers of Die Irren look forward to darkness and numbness as a comforting oblivion.

They observe their growing paralysis and reduction to silence with apparent longing. In an earlier unfinished sketch also entitled

Die Irren. (1,402), the insane find themselves "im Himmel und im

Paradies, " and the prim ary feature of heaven for the insane is silence: "Und niemand schreit. "

Die Irren deals with the retreat from oppressive reality on a different level than the preceding poems. The tension between dynamism and paralysis, (Bewegung and Erstarrung). and between transient time and the eternal, are far more in evidence. The images used to express these conflicts differ from those which we will be investigating in the next chapter prim arily because of the narrative quality of Die Irren, where the images appear more concrete and causally related than the reduced, abstract images and increasing

reliance upon simultaneity of images which characterizes many of

Heym's last poems.

Meine Seele represents one of the rare occasions when the

poetic "I" of a poem after 1910 appears readily equatable with Heym

h im self:

Meine Seele

Meine Seele ist eine Schlange, Die ist schon lange tot, Nur manchmal in Herbstesmorgen, EntblUttertem Abend rot Wachse ich steil aus dem Fenster, Wo fallende Sterne sind, tfber den Blumen und Kressen Meine Stirne spiegelt Im stBhnden Nhchte-Wind. (I, 501) c In a poem dedicated to a close friend and literary associate,

Erwin Loewensohn, ^ the poet sets himself the task to express his

essence, his soul. This revelation occurs in a poem totally withdrawn from the normal reality of time, space and causality which still exists in many of his poems, Meine Seele presents total disorien­ tation; it is dissonant in the sense established by Hugo Friedrich:

"dieses Zusammentreten von UnverstcLndlichkeit und Faszination.

Kurt Mautz views Meine Seele as an absolute, hermetic expression, a series of ciphers (Chiffren) which he interprets as a statement--and an indictment--of the general plight of humanity. 169

In Meine Seele , Mautz states: "Die verfremdete, zerstiickte und

mortifizierte Natur ist die Spiegelschrift der sich selbst entfremdeten

13 Menschennatur, des entseelten, lebend toten Ichs. " This view is, fa far as it goes, virtually indisputable. It is easy, too, to accept

Mautz's contention that the central image of Meine Seele. (the Self

rising rigidly out of the window), is a "Chiffre filr Einsamkeit und

Entseelung als gesellschaftlich verhhngtes, nicht nur persbnlich-

individuelles Schicksal. 11 ^

The key to Mautz's interpretation of Meine Seele is the equation of lines 3-9 with the statement of lines 1-2. That is, all the actions and images of lines 3-9 are to be seen as a restatement of lines 1-2, in which a still-living "I" negates itself. But if we follow Mautz, who grants himself considerable freedom in assigning meanings to the images he has designated ciphers, we are drawn away from the full evaluation of an important feature of Meine Seele and a rare one: the fact that the poet, contrary to his usual practice, appears to present the reader with a genuine personal statement. This Mautz admits, yet he then goes on to view the poem as a generalized statement about the fate of humanity. But if that is what the poet intends, then why does he for once abandon the assumed poetic identity of so many sim ilar poems?

Suppose we assume, then, that in Meine Seele the poet does in fact seek to present an expression of his essense: Heym was accus­ tomed to view himself first and foremost as a poet, an artist, a being 170

apart from and above the mass of humanity. In Die Seilthnzer. for

instance, despite the poet's sympathy with the central figures, the

problem of the artist is presented from the outside, objectively,

enabling the poet to maintain a critical viewpoint. This is decidedly

not the case in Meine Seele. where for once the "I" has taken the

dominant position: "Meine Seele", the title asserts, and again in

line one: "Meine Seele ist ein Schlange, " and in line 5: "wachse ich

aus dem Fenster, " and finally in line 8: "meine Stirne spiegelt. " All the other images in Meine Seele are either generalized by the use of

indefinite plurals or by definite articles which, to use the terminology

of Friedrich, exercise a "vagueness function" in modern poetry, in that they introduce something which, because it is preceded by a definite article, ought to be something familiar, but because something new is in fact introduced, disorientation results. The window of line 5, although preceded by the definite article, is no particular window; it is all windows and no window, particularly when qualified, as it is in line 6, by "Wo fallende Sterne sind. " Where can that possibly be? What realm are we asked to consider, where stars fall eternally? The same vagueness holds true for "fjber den Blumen und

Kressen. " Only the "I" emerges clearly, but for what purpose?

Meine Seele begins with the poetic "I" declaring itself already long dead. Of course, this statement is qualified by the "Nur 171

manchmal" of line 3, and the following lines, but even so, lines 1-2

deliver a devastating statement. Mautz points out that the snake has

long been a symbol of renewal, but he concludes that line 2 negates

that possibility in Meine Seele. ^ That observation hardly exhausts

the implications of the snake as a symbol, however. Among the qualities which may have appealed to Heym is the long tradition that the snake is a magic being, closely related in myth and superstition to the dragon and the salamander as creatures with magical properties.

The snake is a symbol of prophecy as well. Heym, who was well-accquainted with the many superstitions and beliefs of German tradition--as we have seen in Luna II, for example--may well have

known that the snake was considered the animal embodiment of the

spiritus familiaris, of the dead, or the embodiment of the human soul

itself. Indeed, there is a belief that the human soul can leave the body of a still-living person in the form of the snake. The snake is

1 7 also a symbol of death and the guardian of the realm of the dead. A

We mention these beliefs and legends surrounding the snake-- and they are but a few of many--because they are ideas which occupied

Heym, who was fascinated by the m ystery and incomprehensibility of life and natural forces. In addition, the concept of magic recurs throughout his work. He is best known for his habit of populating the earth and the cosmos with demons, monsters and inexplicable forces 172

which resist the understanding and control of man. Even more charac­

teristic is his preoccupation with death and the dead.

If these associations suggest connections with Heym's favorite

themes and motifs, one other point should be mentioned, to which

Heym, a Nietzschean, might well have been attracted. That is the

ambivalent character of the snake in legend and superstition. The

snake can both kill and heal; as an oracle, it foretells both good

fortune and disaster. The snake possesses a double nature as a

symbol of wisdom and evil. As a magical creature, the snake grants

knowledge and reveals secrets, but it is always suspect, the tradi­ tional creature of the devil.

This ambivalence recurs frequently in Heym's poems and diaries. In Im kurzen Abend, for example, the poet warns: "Was dich schmerzet, Ich sag es im Btisem. " (I, 448). In one of his last diary entries the poet pondered the problem of ambivalence again:

Grtisse ohne Schlechtigkeit nicht denkbar. Ja. Was heisst aber Schlechtigkeit. --Wahrscheinlich giebt es Uberhaupt keinen allgemeinen Massstab ausser dem aesthetischen. Und auch dieser ist nicht vollsthndig, da er den Menschen als ganzes zu sehen gewohnt ist. Erst wenn man sich daran gewbhnt hat, iiberhaupt nicht m ehr Massstfelbe anzulegen, --wird man einen richtigen Standpunkt fiir den Aspect des Menschlichen gew innen.

It is not difficult to accept, therefore, that Heym intended to suggest a multitude of conflicting and complementary possibilities 173

through the image of the snake in Meine Seele. In line 2, however,

these qualities which might be applied to the poet have been suspended.

That they have not yet been negated is demonstrated by the remainder

of the poem.

Sometimes, under certain conditions, the "I" is still able to

function, despite its apparent impotence. The "I" performs two

actions: it rises from the window, and its face reflects. The

conditions under which this occurs are those of barrenness and decay:

"in Herbstesmorgen, / Entblhttertem Abendrot. " The window, tradi­

tionally a symbol of openness and communication, is used consistently

by Heym and other modern writers as a symbol of isolation. The

laws of time, space and causality are also negated. There is no

consistent chronology in Meine Seele--past, present and eternity

commingle and suspend the normal laws of time. Space and causality

have lost their validity as well. The boundaries between life and

death, between matter and soul are called into question, A window

exists with no reference to a structure to contain it, where the stars

fall eternally. And in all of this, the face of the persona reflects into wind and darkness. The verb "spiegeln", which is normally transi­ tive, is used intransitively here. The "I" does not reflect an image;

it merely reflects.

What then does the "I" in Meine Seele accomplish? It is our

contention that here, although viewing Nietzschean optimism and the 174

possibility of achievement with skeptisim, ^9 Heym presents in

Meine Seele his own limited, aesthetic equivalent of the nietzschean

grosse Tat. The "I", the poet, attempts an act of communication

against impossible odds. Stifled by his social-historical situation,

condemned to an impenetrable isolation from other human beings and

from nature, totally alienated from existence, the attempt is never­

theless made. The "I" reflects its incomprehensible message into the

forces of chaos which constitute reality. The artist is, in a limited

way, rehabilitated.

It is a paradox, to say the least, that the attempt at communi­

cation is consciously obstructed by the form and language employed.

Yet this is a leading characteristic of modern poetry. And Heym is a modern poet in so far as the interpreter is often compelled to be fascinated and moved by a poem without being able to "tell what it means" with any degree of certainty. Meine Seele is that sort of poem, and it may be that Heym would have developed into that sort of poet, had he lived another twenty years.

Meine Seele represents the only solution offered by Heym to the problems and pressures besetting the individual; it marks the only occasion when the "I" does not--perhaps cannot--retreat. This aesthetic solution, whether possible or not, appears embedded in

Heym's metaphysical landscape of "Manchmal in Herbstesmorgen, /

Entblkttertem Abendrot" and "Wo fallende Sterne sind. " Indeed, it 175

Is here that the metaphysical landscape appears in its most concen­ trated and most abstract form. Barren, incomprehensible, uncontrollable, it offers no comfort to the individual, and generally appears so bleak as to encourage the flight of the individual into concealment and oblivion. Meine Seele appears to offer the only alternative to that flight. FOOTNOTES

Chapter Two

Schneider, Per bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 78.

2Heym, III, 164.

3Heym, III, 150. 4 Mautz, p. 113.

5Mautz, p. 119.

^Mautz, p. 117.

^Mautz, p. 126.

^Schneider, Per bildhafte Ausdruck, p. 79.

^But spiegeln also occurs. See Introduction, p. 5.

10Heym, III, 140: "Ich glaube, dass meine Grtisse darin liegt, dass ich erkannt habe, es gibt Nacheinander. Pas meiste liegt in einer Ebene. Es ist alles ein Nebeneinander. "

Meine Seele has the subtitle: "Golo Gangi gewidmet. 11 Golo Gangi was the pseudonym of Erwin Loewensohn.

i2Hugo Friedrich, Pie Struktur der modernen Lyrik. (Hamburg: Rowohlt Taschenbuch Yerlag, 1956), p. 15.

•^Mautz, p. 117.

*4M autz, p. 119.

15 Friedrich, p. 124f.

176 177

■^Mautz, p. 115.

^Handwbrterbuch des deutschen Aberglaubens, vol. VII, cols. 1114-1196.

18Heym, III, 176.

^See Die Seiltbnzer, (1,453). CHAPTER III

METAPHYSICAL SPACE

The bitter disillusionment which characgerizes Heym's world

view is the direct result of a disappointed idealism. Heym's youthful

belief in beauty, goodness, unity with nature and the organic

harmoniousness of the universe found expression in a lyric style

comparable in many ways to the cosmic impressionism of D&ubler and Mombert. Cosmic impressionism takes the Unendlichkeitsbegriff of German romanticism and exaggerated belief in man's ability to discover the true nature of the world and control it which charac­ terized late nineteenth century thinking:

Die Bezeichnung cosmic impressionism geht vom Inhalt aus: das lyrische Ich ersinnt kosmische Sphfelren und setzt sich selbst absolut. Es tritt in Analogie zum gbttlichen Wort, indem Schbpfung mit der dichterischen Wortschbpfung gleichgesetzt wird . . . Es lhsst sich am ehesten geistesgeschichtlich als ein Ergebnis des deutschen Idealismus erklclren: das Ich setzt sich selbst und gebiert aus sich das All. Dies Theme klang ja vergrbbert wieder aus dem Wissenschaftsglauben der Zeit, es stand hinter dem sozialistischen Utopismus, der Mensch kbnne das Paradies durch Arbeit schaffen, hinter Freuns und Adlers Psyschopathologie, der Mensch kbnne durch radikale Bewusstmachung der Untergrdnde des Ich dies Ich vom Komplexen befreien, und hinter dem laienhaften Spekulationen dber die Unendlichkeit des Raums, der Zeit, des Alls und der Materie. *

178 179

We have seen how the schoolboy Heym gave himself up to his

ecstatic visions of unity with the All. His naive belief in the basic

goodness of the world and man's relationship to nature is expressed

in a d ia ry e n try of 1907:

Wer offene Augen hat, der findet in der Natur {iberall etwas Schtines. Und wer sich ihr einmal ganz hingegeben hat, den lhsst sie sich nicht mehr entgehen. Ist er bei ihr, so ist er gliicklich und er jagt ihr alle Tage nach, wie ein Brhutigam seiner Braut. 2

At some point, however, Heym's view of existence changed

radically, and the poet's disillusionment and resentment profoundly affected the appearance of his poetic world. Particularly his attitude toward infinity of space and eternity of time altered completely.

Since Heym constantly expressed himself in visual term s, his disillusionment resulted in a blighted landscape, and eternity, both temporal and spatial, found a threatening material form. Now totally alienated from nature, Heym transformed his natural landscape into a metaphysical landscape which reflected the conflict of monstrous, willful forces beyond man's control or understanding. Especially the anthropocentric character of the traditional world view was affected.

In Heym's devalued universe, man is a mere object among objects, pushed to the periphery and passively vulnerable to external forces.

Man's agony stems from his still active awareness --from the lingering belief that his self and existence should have some value. This lingering awareness leads to a paradoxical attitude: man seeks to 180

preserve the consciousness of self which determines his humanity,

while it is just that lingering awareness which causes the agony of

longing and sense of loss which torments man even after death.

A significant factor in Heym's use of space in the metaphysical

landscape is his tendency to transform abstractions, such as time,

eternity and infinity, into objects of direct experience. At the same

time, the poet subjects objects of direct experience to a process of

abstraction. Two key motifs which determine the appearance of the metaphysical landscape give form to views of time: winter and the

endless journey. Mautz summarizes their importance thus:

Die Untersuchung von Ursprung und Bedeutung der Heymschen Grundmotive des Winters und der endlosen Reise hat ergeben, dass es sich um komplementclre Motive handelt, in denen sich eine und diesselbe Erfahrung von depravierter, sinnleerer Zeit unter doppeltem Aspekt niederschlagen hat: die der geschichtlichen Weltzeit als toter, stillstehender Zeit im Motiv des Winters, die der subjektiven Lebenszeit als rein verghnglicher, reissender Zeit im Motiv der endlosen Reise. Beide Vorstellungen von Zeit sind als dialektische Zerfallsformen sinnvoller Zeiterfahrung nicht voneinander zu trennen, denn auch der leere Fluss der reissenden Zeit erwies sich als Stillstand ("tote Ewigkeit"), und die ewige Ruhelsigkeit des subjektiven Zeitbewusstseins resultiert aus der Erstarrung des geschichtlichen Weltzustands, der ihm keine "Heimat" gibt. Daher erscheinen in Heyms Darstellung dieser ■ Zeiterfahrung, welcher der beiden Aspekte thematisch nun auch bestimmend sein mag, die Motive des Winters und der endlosen Reise miteinander verschrMnkt. ^

As Mautz points out, the combination of the winter motif and that of the endless journey consistently produce the theme of death, 181 which is Heym's most frequent preoccupation. These motifs and their characteristic imagery recur throughout the nineteenth century, ^ but

Heym differs from past tradition by emphasizing all the negative aspects and excluding any hope or optimism. This is particularly evident when one compares Heym's endless winter journeys with

Nietzsche's Vereinsamt:

V e re in s a m t

Die KrShen schrei'n Und ziehen schwirren Flugs zur Stadt: Bald wird es schnei'n, -- Wohl dem, der jetzt noch--Heimat hat!

Nun stehst du starr, Schaust rU.ckwS.rts, ach! wie lange schon! Was bist du Narr Vor Winters in die Welt entflohn?

Die W elt--ein Tor Zu tausend WUsten stumm und kalt! Wer das verlor, Was du verlorst, macht nirgends halt.

Nun stehst du bleich, Zur Winter-W anderschaft verflucht, Dem Rauche gleich, Der stets nach khltern Himmeln sucht.

Flieg', Vbgel, schnarr Dein Lied im WUstenvogel-Ton!-- Versteck', du Narr, Dein blutend Herz in Eis und Hohn!

Die KrShen schrei'n Und ziehen schwirren Flugs zur Stadt: Bald wird es schnei'n, -- Weh dem, der keine Heimat hat! 182

The influence of Nietzsche is clear in Heym's use of imagery.

Whereas for Nietzsche, Vereinsamt was one facet of his vision, the

most somber one, it becomes Heym's entire vision. Indeed, "Weh

dem, der keine Heimat hat! " might be the most fitting motto for

Heym's mature poetry. The most significant difference between

Vereinsamt and the Heym poems which will be discussed below is the

reduction of the position of the "I" and the transformation of a defiant,

heroic pathos into Heym's "new Pathos", which is the most extreme

expression of utter hopelessness. The inability to find stability in an

alien world is expressed by Heym in images of eternal wandering by

the blind, the deaf, and the insane, for whom the world is distorted

beyond recognition and who are victims of a malicious fate and

objects of scorn--and particularly by the dead, who are the ultimate victims, seeking peace, justification and oblivion, and never finding th em .

In Heym's later poetry, dreams provide many of the key

insights into the nature of the metaphysical landscape. Characteris­ tically, the most important stage is the heavens, where visions unfold in the clouds, and where the moon and the stars display their ominous signs. Indeed, it seems especially fitting that Heym's second posthumous lyric collection should be called Der Himmel Trauerspiel. ^

Conversely, restricted space, particularly surrounded by walls--cities, houses, parks, etc.--play a significant role as well. 183

And in death both possibilities are combined in a way which produces

an extreme of disorientation. This disorientation reflects the dislo­

cation and helplessness of those who find themselves the victims and

dupes of a hostile universe and an empty heaven. In his diary, Heym

once described the deus absconditus and the empty heavens in term s

which constantly recur in his poems: "Der gute Gott sitzt oben hinter

den Wolken und rtlhrt sich nicht. Da ist alles Stein, taub hohl und

le e r .

1. H eaven and E a rth

Since Heym's metaphysical landscape is oriented as much

toward the heavens as toward earth, the concept of metaphysical space

deals constantly with the parallel planes of heavens and earth. Both

planes are usually endless and empty, mainly cloud landscapes and winter landscapes.

The horizon, as we have noted before, plays a key role. There

is an impression of eternal outward expansion, by which objects

become smaller and weaker. No longer a liberating concept, endless

space reflects the anxiety of man who is not at home in the world, for whom things have become meaningless. The horizon also serves as a

constant point of connection between heavens and earth. One realm is

constantly flowing into the other, so that the events in the heavens are m irror upon the earth and vice versa. Also, at the horizon heaven and 184

earth meet, and frequently oppose each other.

With Heym's neoromantic background, it is not surprising

that occasional positive images of the infinite space of the heavens

persist in his mature poetry:

O WHlder Yucatans voll goldner Trtlume, Voll ewger Stille, die im Urwald rauscht, Wo hoch im Blauen durch die weiten Relume Ein Wolkenschiff die grossen Segel bauscht. (I, 249)

Und hoch in den StUrmen zu wiegen In brausender Winde Zug, Mit riesiger Schwingen Bewegen Hinaus in die ewigen Relume Wie grosse Vtigel Der Nacht entgegen M it g ew altig em F lug. (I, 380)

Der Mittag kommt. Es schlclft das weite Land, Die tiefen Wege, wo die Schwalbe schweift, Und eine Mtlhle steht am Himmelsrand, Die ewig nach den weissen Wolken greift. (I, 98)

The vast majority of Heym's images of space are negative, however, and display considerable variety despite the repetitiveness of their theme:

Der Winzerberge Ruhe, wo schon wohnen Die Abendschatten Uber Mauern grau. Die Htihen aber schreiten in das Blau, In blasser Himmel schwebend weite Zonen. (I, 291)

Ich bin der Leib voll ausgehbhlter Qual, In meinen Achseln rotes Feuer hhngt. Ich bourne mich, und schreie manchmal laut, In schwarzer Himmel Grabe ausgerenkt. (I, 350)

( 185

Des schwarzen Himmels grosse Grabesglocke Dreht trllb sich rund um deine Winterzeit. (I, 212)

Dann Uberschwemmen lange Ewigkeiten Der Himmel Mauern und das tote Land, Die, grosse Schatten, in den Westen schreiten, Wo ehern ruht der Horizonte Wand. (I, 217)

Und riesenhaft in ihrer weissen SchwMche Wie Frauen feist, so dehnt der Sthdte Brust Voll weisser Flecken endlos ihre Flhche In ferne Himmel, die ihr Atem russt. (I, 220)

Die Winde bringen einen schwarzen Abend. Die Wege zittern mit den kalten Bhumen Und in der leeren Flfelchen sphter <3de Die Wolken rollen auf der Horizonte. (1,437)

Wie ist der Winter ewig weit gezogen, Dag je ein Re if auf dieses Lands Bereich, Wo jetzt der grossen Felder weisse Wogen Zum Himmel ziehn, der wie der Mittag bleich. (I, 83)

Unendliche Orgeln brausen in tausend Rbhren, Alle Engel schreien in ihr Pfeifen, tfber die Tiirme hinaus, die gewaltig schweifen In ewiger RHume verblauende Leere. (1,492)

Die leeren Tage flattern und zergehen Und durch der Hhuser offne Bodenlilcken Ist ewig grauer Himmel nur zo sehen. (I, 409)

These images give some indication of the frequency with which time and space merge in Heym's vision. There is a simultaneity of infinite space and eternal time in the recurring image of vast planes moving toward the horizon from both sides. 186

Inevitably, the vast spaces, devoid of any comfort or familiar

features by which man might orient himself, harbor ominous secrets

and mysterious curses:

Die Kranken horchen auf der Lagerstatt Wie Krbten, von dem Lichte rot gefleckt. Die Betten sind wie eine grosse Stadt, Die eines schwarzen Himmels Rhtsel deckt. (I, 168)

Und drohend erhoben Hhusergruppe gross Im Himmel oben Hoch in des Dunkels Schoss Wie ein schwarzer Yorhang gewirkt, Der ein altes Geheimnis verbirgt. (I, 373)

Und schwarze Fahnen wehn die langen Gassen Der ausgestorbenen Sthdte, die verstummt Im Fluch von weissen Himmeln und verlassen, Wo ewig eine stumpfe Glocke brummt. (I, 213)

Was ist das Leben? Kleines Schiff in Schluchten Vergessner Meere. Starrer Himmel Grauen. (1,311)

The infinitely expanding planes of space and time offer no

refuge for man, who is eternally lost and condemned to wander forever through alien regions:

Die Menschen aber, die vergessen werden, Hat Winter weit zerstreut in kahler Flhche Und blhst sie fliichtig Uber dunkle Erde. (1,424)

Herbstesregen rauscht T raurig in Dunkel tfber die grauen Flhchen hinunter. Ein paar BMume verloren. 187

Alle Dinge sind ferne F o r t in die N acht g eschoben. (I, 373)

Heym's tendency to create dissonances and disorientation upon the conceptual plane frequently finds expression in images of spatialized conditions, in which intangibles receive disturbing form and life:

Doch westlich liegt ein dunkler Kontinent Der Wolkenrhume, die von Grunde dunkeln, (I, 73)

Aus windgem Dornwald und dem hohen Schutte Verfallner Tiirme ragen drei der Bhume Verloren in die rabenschwarzen Relume Der Nacht empor, in schwarzer Trauerkutte. (I, 107)

In Hbhlen tief sind ihre Sarkophage Mit Wappen rund und Bildern um den Schrein In DMmmerung weiter Rhume unter Tage Und keine Fackel findet mehr herein. (I, 345)

Nachtwandlern gleich, gejagt von Entsetzen der TrUume, Die seufzend sich stossen im Dunkel m it Hand, Also schwankten wir in des Herbstes verschwindende RSime, Der wie ein Riese sich hob in die Nacht und verschwand. (I, 320)

Die Flhche is almost programmatic for Heym in its exploitation of the expressive value of empty space:

Wo sich der kahlen Ebene kahler Rand Verliert in blasser Himmel Einerlei, Brennen drei Wolken wie in einer Hand, Die vor sich trhgt der Totenfackeln drei. 188

Ein Wagen schleppt sich durch die Wtistenei Langsam, wie ein langsamer Fiebertraum. Und durch die leere Weite zieht der Schrei Einsamer Sperber in dem triiben Raum. (I, 180)

The entire first stanza is oriented toward the sky. The focal

point is the horizon, a key feature of Heym's natural landscape as well

as of his metaphysical one. Here, Heym builds upon the observed

reality of his surroundings, which were flat, so that the horizon was a

significant feature. In Die Flhche the metaphysical landscape emerges

as the poet transform s the natural one by investing it with the

emotional charge of his inner vision.

The first two lines of the poem provide the essential "land­

scape": this is characterized by movement, as the horizon flows into the heavens, losing itself. The repetition of "kahl" in line one,

describing the earth, is balanced off against the equal barrenness of the sky: "in blasser Himmel Einerlei. " Plain, horizon and heavens

are equally empty and featureless. The negative value of the emptiness depicted is intensified to the extreme by the description: not only does "kahl" appear twice in one brief line, but "in blasser Himmel

Einerlei" presents a direct negative value judgement.

Although line 3 finally provides the object of attention, the

clouds, it is evident that the location, described in lines 1-2, is of equal or even superior importance. The reader's eye is forced to begin with the surroundings and travel through the vast empty spaces 189

of earth and sky before focusing upon the clouds. The significance of

the location emerges from the structure of the stanza, which begins

not with the what, but with the where: "Wo sich der kahlen Ebene

kahler Rand, etc. "

Lines 3-4 establish firmly the irreal, mainly expressive

character of the poem. Following upon the emotionally-charged

description of the surrounding barrenness, the clouds immediately

assume an infernal character: "brennen drei Wolken, " but this is

superseded by the simile which establishes the clouds as a death-

image: "Wie in einer Hand/ Die vor sich trhft der Totenfackeln drei. "

The repetition of "drei" assures a special, if unknown, significance

for a number which already has magic associations. The clouds

emerge as an omen, and a sign for death.

In the second stanza the picture becomes more fantastic.

Somewhere in the desolation a wagon drags itself along. Movement is

slowed and obstructed, giving a labored impression. Another intensely

negative emotional value results from "Wiistenei" to describe the

surroundings, and the one wagon in all that space is alone and forlorn,

struggling against some hostile force. The fantastic character of

events reaches an extreme with the image of the wagon's slow, labored progress "wie ein langsamer Fiebertraum. "

The oppressiveness of lines 1-6 changes in the final two lines.

Up to this point the images of oppression had been heaped one upon 190 the other: barren earth, barren sky, ominous red clouds, lonely, laboring wagon. Lines 7-8 also present emptiness, but the effect is quite different. The reader's eye is again lifted upwards into the empty sky by the lonely sound of hawks calling. The cries of the birds create an impression of loneliness and desolation which is not so intensely oppressive as the fantastic vision which preceded it, but the sudden reappearance of reality, (the birds' cries), has an increased impact. In comparison to what has gone before, lines 7-8 are almost understated, yet the final impression is precisely that vast, gloomy emptiness of the heavens, made even more desolate by the cries of a few lonely birds.

Die Wanderer

Endloser Zug, wie eine schwarze Mauer, Die durch die Himmel lcluft, durch Wiistenei Der winterlichen Sthdte in der Trauer Verschneiter Himmel, und dem Einerlei

Der Riesenflhchen, die sich fern verlieren In endlos weisses Weiss am fernen Saum. Die StUrme wehn, die wie durch Kammern filhren Sie weit von Himmelsraum zu Himmelsraum.

fDie Lhnder sind verttdet, leer von Stimmen, Vom Winter wie nit weissem Moos vereist. Die Raben, die in grauen Hbhen schwimmen, Ziehn auf dem Zug, der endlos weiterreist.

Wie eine ungeheure schwarze Schlange Ist durch die leeren Himmel er gespannt. Er wdlzt sich fort, wo fern im Untergange Die rote Sonne dampft in trilbem Brand.3 191

Die Meilensteine fliegen auf den Wegen Den Wandrern zu, vorbei ins Himmelsgrau, Die wie Maschinen schnell sich fortbewegen, Wie um die Winden lMuft ein schwarzes Tau.

Das weisse Haar umtost von Winterwinden, Ziehn sie hinab und ziehn. Der krumme Stumpf Der Weiden, die von Lasten Schnees erblinden, Begleitet sie mit bitterem Triumph.

Der Abend steht am Rand, die schwarze Fahne T rhgt seine Faust. Er senkt sie vor dem Zug, Die W andrer ziehn hinab zum Ozeane Der Nacht, zu dunkler Himmel bbsem Flug.

Durch Grhber, Hbhlen, zu den Riesentalen, Wo weiss von Mitternacht die Meere gehn, Und wie ein Stein ruht schwarz das Haupt der Qualen, Die schnell wie Wolkenschatten drliberwehn. (I, 190)

Die W anderer is essentially an expanded treatment of the

theme presented in Die Flhche , except that the fantastic, visionary

character remains intact throughout the poem. It is similar in many ways to Wolken (chapter one) except that the pictures are less varied

and less colorful. Colors--or lack of colors--plays a significant

study in black, white and gray, broken only by the red of a gloomy

sunset, (lines 13-14) Death does not emerge as the prim ary theme of

Die W anderer, as it did in Wolken. Instead, the image of the journey through emptiness and the agony of the wanderers are stressed.

Die W anderer is filled with metaphors of desolation which strain at the dimensions and disclose vast space:

"Wilstenei der winterlichen St&dte” (1. 2-3) 192

"in der Trailer verschneiter Himmel" (1. 3-4)

"Einerlei der Riesenfiy.ch.en" (1.4-5)

"zum Ozeane der Nacht" (1.27-28)

Indeed, space is the prim ary image, evident from the repeated

use of "endlos" (2x); "fern" (3x); "weit"; "ungeheuer", etc. , and in

formulations such as "Riesenflhchen" and "Riesentalen". The paral­

lelism of heavens and earth emerges clearly in stanza II:

Der Riesenflhchen, die sich fern verlieren In endlos weisses Weiss am fernen Saum. Die Stiirme wehn, die wie durch Kammern fUhren Sie weit von Himmelsraum zu Himmelsraum.

In their utter barrenness, heavens and earth can barely be distin­ guished from one another.

Stanzas I-II deliver the picture of an immense procession stretching across the sky. "Endloser Zug" suggests temporal as well as spatial expansion, given weight and substance by "wie eine schwarze

Mauer. " The movement of "die durch die Himmel lhuft", (line 2), lacks direction until stanza VI: "Ziehn sie hinab und ziehn. " The wanderers appear to build a gigantic arch across the sky from one horizon to the other, except that in stanza VII they threaten to descend into nothingness: "Die W andrer ziehn hinab zum Ozeane /Der Nacht, zu dunkler Himmel bbsem Flug. " (lines 27-28)

It is clear that the point of departure for this picture must be a line of clouds moving through the sky, but that basic phenomenon is 193

left far behind. The picture does not appear fantastic and irreal in the

way Wolken does, where reality and vision are quite distinct from one

another, nor does it appear strictly visionary as in Der Nebelsthdte winzige Wintersonne. Instead, reality and irreal images are inextri­

cably mixed. Is this a cloud landscape like Der Nebelstfeldte ? Where

is the "Wiistenei/Der winterlichen Sthdte in der Trauer/ Verschneiter

Himmel"? Are the "Riesenflhchen" on the earth or in the sky, or both? Or does such a distinction even matter? One literally loses the ground from beneath one's feet as heaven and earth blend together in their immense, wintery barrenness.

Stanzas III-VI do not add anything new, presenting two restatements of the original picture. Key motifs and images are introduced or repeated and expanded: winter, barrenness, monotony, and emptiness. Dines 17-18 present the passivity and paralysis of the wanderers, who appear stationary while the milestones move past them. The mechanical quality of the journey receives direct expression in the simile "wie Maschinen" in line 19, which is rela­ tively rare.

Lines 25-26 present a personification of night which has a

Q traditional flavor and comes right out of the baroque. Stanzas VII-

VIII present yet another restatement of the basic image, but with a summarizing quality. Night does in fact come, and darkness swallows 194

up the wanderers, as if there were a resolution to the vision, but in

fact the agony goes on:

Und wie ein Stein ruht schwarz das Haupt der Qualen, Die schnell wie Wolkenschatten driiberwehn.

Whether Die Wanderer is in fact another dream vision is not quite clear, since everything is in flux and lost in the immensity of

space, drowned in nothingness. The poem seems too long, unless the constant repetition is intended to evoke the monotony which the poet depicts. In any case, most of the later "jour%ey" poems are shorter and more concentrated, and also more abstract, yet contain the same basic images.

2. E n clo sed S pace

The following two poems illustrate how an atmosphere of anxiety is engendered in enclosed space. In contrast to the scope and dream of the preceding poems, these present minor, almost imper­ ceptible events with definite limits, and by magnifying them produce ominous occurrences which cause uneasiness and a feeling of oppression.

Halbdunkel schon, das in die Strassen flieget. Und Abend, der mit vielen Wolken kommet In dlinner Hd'user ausgeleerte Fenster, Wo Wind und Zeit die Blumen fortgenommen,

Die Dunkles spiegeln in den blinden Scheiben, Und graue Hhnde heben drin voll Trauer. Und jemand kommt, die Lichter anzuztlnden Mit langen Schritten an der hohen Mauer. Die Kranken aber wachsen in den Betten, Und ause inand er. zerren die Gesichte. Wie Pflanzen weiss in ihren hohen Kissen Die immer starren nach dem Flackerlichte. (I, 485)

Halbdunkel schon contains a sense of urgency and impending trouble which distinguishes it from other poems where paralysis

( Erstarrung) has already taken over completely. Halbdunkel schon shows the Erstarrung-process in the last stages of completion, but the sense of threat still receives more attention than the nearly completed transformation.

As is so often the case in Heym’s work, Halbdunkel schon begins somewhere past the actual beginning of things. Never knowing the origin of phenomena or the stimulus for events described conse­ quently increases the opacity of Heym's "visions." The poet inten­ sifies the impression of mysterious inexorability by revealing processes or events which can no longer be presented and whose origins and goals are unknown. The sense of urgency engendered by the opening line "halbdunkel schon, das in die Strassen flieget" does not really convey a warning, since no one can hold back the coming darkness, but merely deepens the feeling of helplessness created by facing "natural" phenomena which are invested with other than natural m ean in g .

"Halbdunkel" gains substance from the metaphor "das in die

Strassen flieget, " which attributes to the noun the--for Heym-- 196 threatening form of a bird. Of course, the bird metaphor is indirect, but this is a technique which Heym uses frequently to lend threatening substance to a phenomenon without pinning it down absolutely to one specific object of reference. In this manner, the threat of the unknown may never be completely overcome:

Doch in den Schluchten Der Hiigel hinten nistet schon die Nacht. (I, 113)

There is a further sense of immediacy shown in Halbdunkel schon by the fact that darkness flies into the streets at this very moment. The uneasiness engendered by line one is confirmed by the approach of evening, "der mit vielen Wolken kommet, " which parallels the preceding line. "Halbdunkel" is about to be succeeded by "Abend, " a transition which for Heym always embodies a mysterious threat, a sense of some momentous, impending event:

Geht ein Tag ferne aus, kommt ein Abend. Brennt ein Stern In der HtJhe zur Nacht. Wehet das Gras. Und die Wege alle Werden in Dhmmerung zusammengebracht. (1,446)

In Halbdunkel schon evening still retains remnants of the mythical character with which Heym invested it in earlier poems such as Der Tag liegt schon auf seinem Totenbette (I, 142). Evening comes

"mit vielen Wolken, 11 as the leader of an invading army.

While "halbdunkel" appears generalized as it enters the streets,

"Abend" has a more specific goal in "diinner Hhuser ausgeleerte

Fenster. " Whereas "Halbdunkel" and "Abend" have gained in substance 197

and immediacy by metaphorical means, the poet seeks to diminish the

material substance of the houses via personification: the houses are

thin and in some sense the victims of other forces. Their windows

are not only empty but emptied: nausgeleert. " By the use of the past

participle Heym calls attention to the action involved; an action which

at first appears to be caused by the fact that "Wind und Zeit" have

taken away the flowers. This is not the full extent of the emptiness,

however. "Ausgeleert" has the same emotional flavor as "diinn, "

suggesting a non-specific diminishing of vitality and substance.

Earlier examples of the same combination of images have the same

effect:

Der Abend der Gassen ist tot Und die Hhuser sind bleich Und die Fenster leer. (1,406)

Alle Fenster sind tot Wie bleiche Augen in letzter Not. (I, 386)

The image of ailing house and empty windows reaches its peak in the opening line of Der Park: "Blinde Scheiben sind im toten

H ause. " (see below)

Line 5 reinforces the impression that more than flowers is gone from the windows. In the earliest version of Halbdunkel schon the flower motif was allotted more attention, and its function as a symbol of life, (here, negated, as a symbol of death), was made very c le a r: Die Blumen frieren vor den Fenstern, Die Sonnenblumen, die vertrockneten. (I, 407)

The combination of "frieren, " the death of "Sonnenblumen" and "die

vertrockneten" is more than explicit. Indeed, in comparison to the

final version, the image appears heavy-handed, especially since it is

directly followed by a parallel image which interprets it:

Die alten Frauen sitzen in den Stuben Und sehen vor sich in die Winterjahre. (1,407)

In the final version Heym eliminates elaboration and expla­

nation of images, forcing them to stand by themselves. This requires the refinement of figurative language to the point where the images speak for themselves by association rather than requiring explanation by the poet. Heym was in the process of developing a poetic idiom which put enormour demands on both poet and reader.

Line 5 also uses personification to convey something mysterious and threatening. The blind windows reflect a darkness which is something more than normal "natural" darkness. "Dunkles" is a dark something, an undefined and indefinite etwas, a dark secret. This may be seen as a distorted m irror motif: in Heym's poetry m irrors reflect only the incomprehensible and threatening.

In line 6 the poet affords the reader his first glance inside the houses: "Und graue Hhnde heben drin voll Trauer. " This is an image which appears consciously formulated to defy explanation. In the 199

second version of Halbdunkel schon, (there are three versions in all),

"graue H&nde" was a simile: "Und wie graue HMnde/ Bewegt es sich

im Dunkel ihrer Trauer. " (1,484) The image in the final version is

more elusive and disturbing, both more "real", since the hands may

belong to someone, and irreal, since the action resists being tied to a

specific object or individual. It has a strong expressive value, but it

cannot be "interpreted. " Heym communicates a sadness which is

elusive, mysterious--something which may be sensed but not grasped.

Here incomprehensibility is demonstrated on the 'level of language

rather than appearing as a theme.

Since "Trauer" is not attached to an individual it assumes a

broader meaning. "Trauer" is presented in the context of approaching

darkness, death and emptiness--a kind of cosmic sadness which is

consonant with Heym’s winter landscape of eternal emptiness.

Lines 7-8 present a reaction to coming evening as someone comes to light the lamps. The picture is cunningly vague. It intro­ duces alien elem ents--a wall, lights, a figure which moves in a particular fashion--but none of the elements are elaborated upon or explained. Instead, one image, "Lichter, " provides an associative bridge to the final stanza.

Stanza III is related expressively to that which precedes it, although the connections are obscure. In a certain sense it provides 200 a contrast, yet it is also an intensification of a threat which has been present all along, another face of the same problem. "Die Kranken aber wachsen in den Betten" is completely generalized; the plural is deliberately non-specific. Attention focuses upon the verb "wachsen. "

Whereas the (presumably) healthy life ("Blumen") is dying, the sick are growing. Line 10 continues the process of distortion and deformation which makes the sick alien and frightening rather than deserving of sympathy. The faces of the sick are distorted and frightening. No longer whole and healthy, they appear inhuman.

In line 11 Heym continues the process of expansion to intensify the frightening effect. Not only are the sick growing, but their pillows appear to be growing as well. ("In ihren hohen Kissen. ") The sick begin to loom over their surroundings. That the size of the pillows is significant may be deduced from the fact that Heym first chose the formulation "in ihren grossen Kissen" (I, 407), then substituted "in ihrer Kissen Schwere" in version II, (1,484), but ultimately rejected that in favor of a return to the emphasis upon size: "in ihren hohen

K isse n . "

"Wie Pflanzen weiss" provides another variant of a constant symbol of death and terror for Heym, and the parallel to the now absent flowers of stanza I intensifies the contrast between the wane of the healthy and the increase of the diseased. 201

"Die immer starren nach den FI ackerlichte" raises the question

of what the sick see, a question which is not answered. The connec­

tion between "Lichter" of line 8 and "Flackerlichte" suggests a kind of

revelation. Stanza III communicates an atmosphere of fear and threat which is met by utter passivity. Indeed, "immer starren" appears

equivalent to erstarren, total paralysis.

Stanza III presents a literally monstrous picture. One can see points of connection with the earlier stanzas, but the central image in

its intensity approaches the absolute; it is to be experienced, not explained. One is brought face to face with horror. Whether the horror is death or something else cannot be known. Halbdunkel schon illustrates that indefinable fear connected with death which is expressed in Was kommt ihr, weisse Falter:

Wer schliesst uns auf die Lender nach dem Tode, Und wer das Tor der ungeheuren Rune. Was sehn die Sterbenden, dass sie so schrecklich Verkehren ihrer Augen blinde Weisse. (I, 312)

Halbdunkel schon derives much of its impact from its concen­ tration. Heym reduces the poem to bare images which communicate solely by association. It is interesting in this regard to compare version II of the poem with the final version. The poet eliminated an entire stanza which many would view as characteristic of Heym:

Der Nebel schiebt sich faulig durch die Strassen. E r wtlchst am Dache hoch wie eine SfeLule. Und von den DfeLchern und den vollen T ra u fe n Hclngt W asser und ewig Moderffelule. (I, 484) 202

Clearly Heym eliminated this stanza because it does not contri­

bute to the poem, no m atter how well he can achieve a particular mood

or striking the images are in themselves. We have here evidence

that Heym was shaping his images toward a specific end, and that

purpose was concentration and a degree of abstraction which did not

profit from detail or St immune skunst.

Another example of concentration and abstraction is provided

by Der Park. Here the disorientation and sense of threat which is a

key feature of metaphysical space emerges particularly clearly:

D e r P a r k

Blinde Scheiben sind im toten Hause, Die sich halb verbergen in den Blischen. Trtlbe Wege, wo die Winde wischen.

Jeder Pfad ist voll mit langen Klagen, Hohe Bhume stehen mit Gesause In des Herbstes Ausgang und Verzagen.

Fremdes Wort wird in dem Sturm vernommen, Grosse Wolken sind im Haus zu sehen. Die dort wohnen, sieht man, oft beklommen, An dem Gittertor vorttbergehen. (1,451)

Der Park appears static in comparison to Halbdunkel schon. It

is certainly less dramatic: the sense of ominous anticipation engendered by the picture of approaching darkness is missing. Per

Park presents a picture with no development and no action. There is actually no sense of time, although the season is indicated. In an 203

earlier version, a time of day was indicated in a manner similar to the

opening of Halbdunkel schon:

Blinder Abend fiillt die toten Scheiben Die sich halb verbergen in den Btischen. (1,450)

In the final version, however, even so elusive an event is not

dramatized. The windows and the house merely exist; it appears that

there is nothing left to happen. The personification of the house

intensifies its desolation in an almost paradoxical fashion, since a house is merely an object to begin with. Der Park communicates

remnants of emotions in a void. The image of blind windows covered

by bushes establishes at the outset both isolation and the alien character of what is presented. The blind windows of a dead house

resist insight into their essence, since the windows' only function, to provide a view in or out, is negated.

Der Park is a poem in which all connections to the world of reality are severed. On the syntactical level this is demonstrated particularly by line 3. Here, a sentence fragment communicates a feeling of desolation and emptiness. In the earlier version of Der Park the first two stanzas each consisted of four lines, and the first stanza concluded thus:

TrUbe Wege, wo die Winde wischen, MUssen jetzt voll trocknem Baube treiben. (I, 450)

Such an image is appropriate in what appears for Heym a fairly conventional autumn poem. The final version of Der Park has a 204

distinctly different character, however. Each syntactical entity offers

a fragment expressive of emptiness and desolation. Only the wind is

ceaselessly active in Der Park, but it is also the wind which reveals

the emptiness of the landscape.

Der Park is nearly devoid of human beings. Here and there a

remnant surfaces in the general desolation: a house suggests human

habitation, roads and paths are man-made objects. Line 4 suggests

initially that man must be still in evidence, but here, too, the void of

humanity persists. Presumably it is autumn's despair which fills the

paths with lamentations. This is directly attributable to the wind in

version I, where it is subject to personification:

Der Wind heult auf den leeren Bbden W andernd feme durch die starren Hecken. Jeder Pfad ist voll mit dunklen Klage, Tief und ferne, wo die Winde hausen. (I, 450)

In the final version, however, the wind, too, merely exists, bereft of any purpose.

The alien quality which fills Der Park emerges in stanza III in a mysterious, yet matter-of-fact, statement:

Frendes Wort wird in dem Sturm vernommen, Grosse Wolken sind in Haus zu sehen. (1,451)

A phenomenon of nature, "Sturm", communicates an incompre­ hensible sign: "Fremdes Wort. 11 The cipher-like character of the communication is underlined by the change from "fremde Worte" in 205

I, 450 to "fremdes Wort. " "Worte" suggests syntactical or logical connections which are eliminated in version II.

Line 8 presents an inexplicable phenomenon: great clouds are to be seen in the house. This, too, is radically different from the earlier version, which stated: "Fremde Wolken sind im Sturm zu sehen, " which has a "real" character. In the final version the poet presents an impossible situation, particularly if one assumes that

"im Haus" refers to the same house mentioned in stanza I. The result is to doubt the "reality" of the house altogether. The house represents the world of man, which is empty, meaningless and life­ less. The inhabitants are nameless and featureless: "Die dort wohnen, " characterized only by their fear: "oft beklommen, " and residing behind a barred door which symbolizes both their isolation and their imprisonment. Der Park expresses profound unease and a feeling of helplessness in an alien landscape.

3. Death and Dislocation

In Heym's view, the tension between monotony and rapidly passing time becomes an inescapable nightmare. For devalued (i.e., despiritualized) humanity, life is barren and monotonous, but it is superseded all to quickly by death, which is eternal nothingness. It may be that man is unaware of the fate in store for him: he has barely made his appearance upon life's stage when his role is finished, and he disappears into nothingness. It is not until after death that the

question of the meaning of life suddenly becomes of supreme impor­

tance, and then it is too late. Man's traditional solace has been the

promise that death will provide the justification for man's less than

perfect existence. Heym reveals traditional thinking in respect to the

nature of existence as a sham. Neither in life, by means of science

and technological manipulation, nor in death by the promises of

religion, does man acquire a meaning or value beyond his own

materiality. The immensity and grandeur of the universe, the

majestic order of the cosmos, which seem to reflect an ultimate

meaning and order for all things, take on a new aspect when the

meaning is removed. The cosmic order, as we have seen, is fragile,

and degenerates into willfulness and arbitrariness. The immensity of

the universe remains, but the grandeus disappears, leaving only the

vast emptiness in which man is forced to wander forever.

Auf Schneckenstrassen approaches the question of the nature of

existence in a manner which was becoming increasingly dominant, as we have seen from the last poems discussed. In order to appreciate the extent of the concentration and abstraction employed, we include

both versions of the poem:

I. Nacht kommt herauf. Und Mondes Hhupter schiessen Auf langen Hcllsen in des Dunkels Nachten. Wir sitzen nun, wo trUbe Wasser fliessen, D ie {murmeln) [[fortjan unserem Verschmachten. 207

Zu mlide sind wir, noch den. Stab zu riihen, Die ewlg wir im kahlen Land Gereiset Auf Schneckenstrassen, die im Kreise fiihren, In Himmelsstrichen, die zu frtih ergreiset.

Zerbrochne Berge waren fern wie Steine. Und Brhcken halb, die auf den FlUssen ritten. Treppauf treppab im Zwielicht arm er Scheine Durch winzige Schluchten sindwir spelt geschritten.

Rund um das Leben drohende Gestalten, Die schwarz wie TUrme hoch in Wolken bhumen Und grosse HSmmer rund erhoben halten Die fallen schwer in grossen Zqischenr&umen. (1,464)

II. Auf Schneckenstrassen sind wir lang gereiset, Durch kleine Schluchten sind wir fortgeschritten, (irb friihen Morgen sind wir weiss ergreiset, Treppauf, treppab, da wir mit Lampen schritten,

Und Berge winzig, Brticken halb, we flossen Die Fltisse trtib, und die Kan&le gingen. Und Monde, die auf langen Hhlsen schossen Und plbtzlich tot im hohen Raume hingen. (I, 465)

The problem of the nature of existence is explored in both versions of the poem, but it is done more explicitly- in the first version, particularly in stanzas II and IV. Indeed, stanza IV and m ost of stanza II are eliminated from the final version, not because the theme has changed, but because the poem has been refined to achieve a particular mode of expression.

The term "reduction" may be applied here in three ways: first, as abstraction with regard to the nature of the imagery; second, as concentration of length and content; and third, on the literal level, 208 the tension between gross and klein present in version I is replaced in the second version by a concentration upon smallness.

The four four-line stanzas of the first version are reduced to two in the second. The contrast between the eternal wanderers, too weary to continue, and the relentless activity of the objects around them is retained. In the second version, each line is compelled to express far more than the collection of individual images in the earlier version. The explanation of "auf Schneckenstrassen," which is clear in the first version, is eliminated in the second, leaving the bare image for the reader to interpret. The two versions of the poem, laid side by side, provide a fascinating insight into Heym's method of presentation. Stanza I and stanza III of the first version deliver nearly all the images which are made to carry the weight of expression in the second version. Stanzas II and IV, on the other hand, are elucidations of the basic situation which disappear almost entirely, except for the key concept of a journey "auf Schneckenstrassen, " with its associations of circularity and futility, and the image of cast space introduced in stanza IV.

Auf Schneckenstrassen exemplifies Heym's conception of a state directly opposed to the apocalyptic visions of Der Krieg and Die

Nacht. Here, Heym presents a condition which he frequently called

"tote Ewigkeit, " an eternal vacuum, characterized by unbroken monotony and repetitiveness. By reducing the poem to a few key images, Heym intensified the quality of barrenness, of an almost

frozen existence. On the other hand, the images approach autonomy,

and the possibility exists that version II might be incomprehensible

without version I. What exactly is deleted from the original concep­

tion? As we have already noted, the poet's "interpretation" of the key

image, "auf Schneckenstrassen", is eliminated. Also the tension,

the possibility of conflict, is eliminated by the deletion of the final

stanza. The tendency toward pathos is also removed; the term

"Verschmachten" (line 4) is rejected as well as the references to the

speakers' weariness in stanza II. More significantly, the poet

relates all of the final version in the past tense, whereas in version II

all of stanza I and IV and half of stanza II are related to the present.

The result of the change is the elimination of immediacy and a possible sense of involvement with the plight of the speakers. Related

entirely in the past, the final version is totally static and frozen.

The second version of Auf Schneckenstrassen presents the moon image as the final element of a series of phenomena which do little more than exist. There is a significant reduction of verbs to an absolute minimum. Stanza II expresses through suspension of all movement the sterile eternity which required two stanzas in the original version. Heym forces the moon image of version II to carry the burden of expression of eternity which he spread over more than 210

eight lines of his original draft. . The moon's associations of oppressi\e

time make it particularly suitable for this task.

The impact of totally paralyzed existence derives particularly

from the peculiar final image. In the first version, the striking images

of moons shooting across the sky opened the poem, and it occurred

within a nominally realistic setting. The image of celestial bodies

suspended from long necks apparently appealed to Heym at that point,

since he used the same image in Die Nacht, which was written at the

sam e tim e:

Auf Schlangenhfellsen die feurigen Sterne HUngen herunter auf schwankende Ttirme. (1,466)

The moon images are more concentrated and possibly more

cryptic. The fact that both versions refer to "Monde" suggests that the image is being subjected to a transformation process in which the

associations of "moon" may be retained--particularly order and time-- while the possibilities of multiplicity are exploited. The primary

result of "moons" rather than "moon" is an impression of repeated

action which intensifies the atmosphere of arid eternity which the poet

creates. The first version contains an indication of causality which

does not occur in version II: "Nacht kommt herauf. Und Mondes

Hhupter schiessen. " In the final version the image is modified: the violent expansion of movement ceases abruptly, and suddenly the moons hang dead in empty space. The abrupt contrast is unusual 211 enough, straining the normal dimensions, but the transposition into the past tense creates a totally irreal image, which is strikingly graphic, yet virtually impossible to conceptualize. This paradox is characteristic of Heym's attempt to express through visual imagery a condition which virtually defies expression in visual terms.

The metaphysical landscape emerges in all its paradoxical visuality in the poems which express the tentative quest for meaning by the dead:

Die Abgeschiedenen

Aber in ihren unteren Sthdten _ Tief verborgen und lebensfernV - (Draussen sein Schlfelgel nur rilhrt manchmal fern Unter der Wolken hfeLngenden Himmeln.

So sitzen sie hin die failenden Stunden Wie Schneider krum m m it dem langen ^GebeinV Andere gehen wie Seiler an Stricke gebunden Ihre Gedanken rilckwclrts in einsamen ^Stuben).

Horchend hinaus, ob nicht etwas geschhhe Irgend (wann) ilber dem Rande der Mauer. Aber die BMume nur starren. Und gross dartiber Ein Mond, der die Zhhne blhhet.

Ihre Angst sticht sie sehr. Wo M auern h&ngen Rieseger Schatten Uber ihnen bauscht. Grosse Gestalten mit faltigen Kleidern rauschen Mit riesigen Flilgeln, die steil aus den Schultern drhngen.

^Geschoren7und gekrilmmt) (uni. Wort) durch die hallenden Z im m e r ^Blicken^sie alt, schwach. Ihre w abernden BMrte verstummen. Totenvttgel nisten auf grasigen Htifen. Sie qufellen ihre Kinnbacken krumme. (I, 504) 212

Although the poem is unfinished and unpolished, enough of

Heym's conception exists so that we may appreciate the problem

which occupied him. The poem deals with the perceptions of the dead,

a theme which Heym treated repeatedly. The poet's fascination with

the reactions of the dead to their new existence--or non-existence--

surely stems from his obsession with the passivity and helplessness of

the living. Heym blurs the barrier between life and death to the extent

that it is the living who are numbed and oblivious, while the dead are

acutely sensitive to the happenings around them. Similarly, Heyn widens the dimensions of time and space and the extent of sense-

perceptions to explore the faintest pulsations of the universe.

The moon appears literally in the central position in the poem,

culminating the third of the five stanzas. The dead pursue a multitude

of meaningless activities in mysterious, incomprehensible sur-

roudings. The third stanza takes us to the heart of the search for any

orientation, any clue to the why and how of their condition: a search

reminiscent of the anxious waiting and questioning of Die Morgue:

Horchend hinaus, ob nicht etwas geschhhe Irgend

The dead listen outward ("hinaus") into the unknown, seeking some

indication of something happening. "Ob nicht etwas geschtlhe" underlines the irreality of the entire enterprise: the "nicht" seems to 213

automatically negate the possibility that something--anything--might happen. The following "irgendwann" calls forth the possibility of endless time, intensifying the feeling of futility and desperation. The sense of hearing nearly becomes tangible, spreading itself outward in space and time in its desperate search for an unknown something--a thing, an event. The search appears to gain a direction through the phrase "Uber dem Rande der Mauer, " except that the nature of the wall remains a mystery. What sort of boundary it represents is not indicated, only that it is an abstacle which must be surmounted.

The result of the search is failure. The trees only stare into space. They do not appear inanimate; the verb "starren” suggests not only that they stare, but also that they are paralyzed. "Und gross dartiber ein Mond" raises numerous questions. To what exactly does

"darttber" refer? Is the moon over the trees, the wall, or does it appear over the search itself? Apparently its position is as uncertain as the search which is described. There is no verb in the phrase, which is significant from a poet as concerned with movement as Heym.

The moon does not appear, or hang, or travel across the sky; it merely exists, and it bares it teeth. The moon expresses thereby the unwillingness of the universe to give up any of its secrets to the anxious searching of the dead. 214

The poem is laden with similar assaults upon the dimensions of

time and space. Man's incapacity to grasp the secrets of the universe

and his inability to control the objects around him is the main theme of the poem, and the moon symbolizes the refusal of the cosmos to yield to man's searching.

Eine Stadt hing dunkel

Alle Strassen krochen vor uns in die Ferne. Alle Tie re flohen oben im Raum. Und dunkel herunter die traurigen Sterne Fielen (weit am^dunklen Saum.

Jemand schluchzte. Jemand ging un zerstiess Seine Hand an den BSumen der wehenden Nacht. Jemand betete fern. Und ein anderer ^sprach^ Seine bitteren ^Reden^ gegen den hohlen Wind.

An den Grhbern gingen wir fort, wo die Toten sassen Stumm auf den HUgeln mit Kronen und weissem Kleid. Niemand sprach noch ein Wort. Ihre Zhhne nur-.frassen Von unseren Hhnden das brtickelnde Fleisch.

Selber wir waren nun Tote und blasse Gerippe. Zogen hinan, in dem Sturm und Regen genarrt. Plbtzliche ('Schlhge mit Stahl und der grausameh> Hippe, Heisses Gelhchter fnetzete unseren] Bart. (I, 508)

The initial image is of a city. No further information is provided; it remains merely "eine Stadt" which builds a background and remains featureless. The irreality of the picture is initiated by the fact that the city hangs along the sky, as if thrown there by chance, or as if it happens to be caught there. The view shifts from the dark 215 city to the sky itself, which is "voll Winden, " and alive with the forces of chaos. The sky is even darker than the city, ("dunkel" >"schwarz"), and with the rain and wind there is an impression of great activity in the sky. A central point of the picture is the moon, which is weakened and diminished, {"diijrftig"), adding to the prevailing gloom.

The sound of the wind hissing through the trees adds another dimension of violence. The location for this is merely "unten. " The black sky seems to dominate: it appears virtually endless, with a city flung out along its edge, trees "below, " and in the sky a meagre moon. Actually there is an enormous expanse of space, but it is filled with wind, rain, and darkness.

The confusion of perspective and lack of orientation increases in stanza II. Line 5 at first appears to shift focus away from the dominant sky. The entire stanza appears to set certain limits, but those limits are rapidly rendered invalid. The streets crawling away into the distance appear animalistic, ("krochen"), and active, while the speakers are passive, calling attention to the limits of human perception and control. In contrast to the first stanza, which presents a relatively coherent, if confusing, picture, stanza II disintegrates into random impressions, a situation which continues in stanza III.

Line 6 appears to have no relation to its surroundings. The verb "fliehen" suggests a retreat or escape, a kind of fugitive action, 216 but the nature of "Tiere" is not revealed. The reference is vague, leaving a confused impression of animals taking flight into space. A limit is set for the downward motion of the falling stars "am dunkeln

Saum, " but that accomplishes little in the face of so many anomalies of time and space. The same is true of words such as "unten" (line 3),

"Oben" (line 6), and "weit" (line 8): they are all relativized by the lack of a single point of reference. As in Die Wanderer, but even more intensely, there is no standpoint from which to perceive directions and distances. There is a total dislocation, which even­ tually appears to be the perception--or lack of perception--of the dead: those totally bereft of control and subject to the forces of chaos.

Stanza III relates the reactions of an indeterminate number of unknown persons. The unidentified persons are characterized only by a variety of unproductive actions. The "environment, " such as it is, remains unaffected. The person who sobs and the one who prays appear to do so in a vacuum. The other two actions seem to challenge the prevailing chaos with no apparent effect. The person who strikes out against the trees may actually strike a blow against the entire night, which is in total flux. The other speaks out with bitterness

"gegen den hohlen Wind, " suggesting that at the center of the violence is nothingness. The speeches reach no one. The entire stanza expresses helplessness and futility. 217

In the final two stanzas the journey-motif which characterizes

the dead is elaborated. The dream character of Eine Stadt hing dunkel

is intensified in stanza IV by the revelation that the speakers them­

selves are dead: "Selber wir waren nun Tote und blasse Gerippe. "

The graveyard appears here from the perspective of the newly dead, who have no communication with the dead already there, ("stumm";

"Niemand sprach noch ein Wort"). Instead the dead prey upon the dead: "Ihre Ztihne nur frassen/ Von unseren Htinden das brbckelnde

Fleisch. " For Heym, hands are a representative feature of humanity, here dry and crumbling and vulnerable. As in die Morgue, distinctions, are made among the dead, a king of hierarchy, indicated here by the distinctive dress of the dead sitting on their graves.

Although stanza V brings the open admission that the speakers are dead, their journey through wind and darkness continues. The futility and pointless suffering is underscored by "genarrt" in line 18.

There is no salvation through suffering and no ennoblement, a rejection of traditional religious belief and traditional values. The suddenly intensified violence and scorn directed at the speakers increases the nightmare quality. Although there is no doubt that the dead are objects of scorn, violence and contempt, the identity and location of the agents of their suffering remains a mystery. 218

Eine Stadt hing dunkel is a sprawling, unfinished work, some­

what weakened by its length. The reduced impact due to lack of

concentration becomes apparent in comparison to the last poem to be

discussed, Die Hbfe luden uns ein. This helps to make clear how

Heym increased the impact of his later poems through reduction and

concentration, leading eventually to abstraction and a form of absolute

figurative language. Die Hbfe luden uns ein provides a characteristic

example of the results.

Die Hbfe luden uns ein, mit den Armen schmhchtig, Fassten unserer Seelchen zipfeliges Kleid. Und wir entglitten durch Tore nhchtig In toter Ghrten verwunschene Zeit.

Von Regenrohren fiel Wasser bleiern, Ewig, Wolken flogen so triibe. Und liber der Starre der frostigen Weiher Rosen hingen in Diirre vom Triebe.

Und wir gingen auf herbstlichen Pfaden, geringern, GltLserne Kugeln zerrissen unser Gesicht, Jemand hielt sie uns vor auf den spitzigen Fingern. Unsere Qualen machten uns Feuer-Licht.

Und wir schwanden so schwach in die glhsernen Relume. Riefen voll Wehnut, da diinne das Glas zerbrach. ■ Wir sitzen nun ewig, in weisslichen Wolken, zu trtlumen (’Sparlichem> Fluge der Falter im Abend rot nach. (I, 509)

The frequency of plurals in Die Hbfe, ("Hbfe"; "Tore";

"Ghrten", etc. ), contributes to the irreal, non-specific quality.

"Hbfe" is a non-specific term which seems to indicate enclosed space,

but it is featureless and undefined. The personification of "Hbfe" 219

Is uncanny, suggesting the power of things over numan beings. There

is a negative progression established in the actions of "die Hbfe. " The invitation to the speakers is deceptively welcoming, since the form of the invitation is an almost repellent gesture: "Mit den Armen schrrielchtig/ Fassten unserer Seelchen zipfeliges Kleid. " The speakers are touched in a vulnerable area; their souls are diminished to

"Seelchen, " and are dressed in garments suggesting perhaps children or the shrouds of the dead. "Hbfe" appear threatening, and the souls are vulnerable. Indeed, from the outset the status of the speakers is vulnerable and weak. They are acted upon and passively at the mercy of external forces. Lines 3-4 introduce the concept of time "actually of eternity), which is the theme of the poem. "Tore" is a very frequent image for Heym, here denoting an entrance to the unknown.

"Entgleiten", (line 3), gives the impression of insubstantiality and a fugitive quality. The speakers slip away and escape, but from what to what? "Nhchtig" adds to the iigitive character and also gives an impression of secretiveness and vulnerability, or perhaps of obscurity and negligence. By crossing some sort of boundary in a fugitive manner the speakers arrive "in toter Ghrten verwunschene Zeit. "

"Verwunschen", which could mean bewitched or enchanted, clearly comes to mean cursed, as the rest of the poem proves. This is a common theme: one things of the Fisher-King in Parzival and the 220 eternal winter caused by his sin, or of the ice-landscape in Novalis1 fairytale from Heinrich von Ofterdingen. Here, too, a spell or curse causes barrenness and eternal winter, but for Heym the curse is a mysterious secret of existance itself and cannot be escaped. The repeated use of "ewig" underscores the eternal character of the condition described.

"Toter Ghrten" already carried connotations of barrenness and sterility. The garden motif, which we met earlier in Der Nebelstttdte winzige Wintersonne, intensifies the feeling of enclosure already suggested by "die Hbfe" and influences the meaning and tone of

"verwunschene Zeit, " namely cursed, sterile, and dead.

Die Hbfe luden uns ein displays a peculiar transformation of the impressionistic style which Heym employed extensively early in

1910, especially in the Berlin-sonnets. Here, we find spare, concen­ trated, almost absolute impressions of an explicitly irreal landscape.

Die Hbfe presents an inner landscape and a symbolic one, offering a view of the "metaphysisches Land" which the poet reveals in dreams and visions. There are points of contact with the "real" world, but the bare outlines of a city landscape, nature, and people become reduced and abstracted, with a minimum of detail. The description is typifying on an expressive level and leaves the sensual realm behind.

The theme of Die Hbfe is given in stanza I, while the following stanzas 221

expand and explore it, giving an insight into a condition. The poet

reduces that condition to its essence and presents a vision of it, but

it is visual only on an intellectual or spiritual level.

Stanza II begins with the image of eternally falling water,

denoting monotony and sterility, as in Nacht (chapter 2). The monotony

and sterility are underlined by "bleiern, " suggesting heaviness and

lifelessness, and by "ewig. 11 The placement of "ewig" betwen two

phrases extends the concept of eternity to the image of the dark

clouds as well. Clouds flying with no direction and leaden water

falling present a picture of endless futility.

Barrenness and sterility are repeated in the winter motif of

lines 7-8. Heym uses the familiar concept of paralysis (Erstarrung)

to negate a traditional life symbol: the water is frozen, and over it

hang frost-killed roses. The entire stanza amplifies the theme of

eternal sterility by means of statement and restatement.

Stanza III returns attention to the speakers. There is an

emphasis upon suffering connected with the endless journey motif. The journey motif is accompanied by an illusion to autumn, "auf herbstlichen Pfaden. " The symbol of death is strengthened by the use

of "geringern", denoting vulnerability or threatened existence. In

line 10 the concept of Erstarrung appears again. With the adjective

"gltlsern" the poet abandons the organic realm altogether. By attacking 222

the face, the image of paralysis and sterility destroys the individuality

of the speakers: "Glfelserne Kugeln zerrissen unser Gesicht. 11 Line 11

contains a threat of exposure or (self?) revelation: "Jemand hielt

sie uns vor auf den spitzigen Fingern. " While "Jemand" denotes an unnamed agent, "spitzig" frequently conveys malic in Heym's poetic

idiom. Suffering and destructive exposure are perpetrated upon the

speakers by an unknown or unknowable force. "Jemand" may however denote merely an anonymous force. Heym depicts a life so impersonal that even the agents of suffering have no identity.

Line 12 suggests a process of purification, by which the speakers are deprived of substance: "Unsere Qualen machten uns

Feuer-Licht. " The speakers are rendered transparent, and apparently bodiless: "Und wir schwanden so schwach in die glhsernen

Rhume. " "Schwach" suggests that the purification through suffering diminishes the speakers rather than strengthening them. In stanza IV,

"glhsern" modifies the space into which the speakers fade away: the atmosphere is brittle, rigid, and alien.

The apparent destruction of the speakers1 substance is com­ pleted in line 14: "Riefen voll Wehnut, da diinne das Glas zerbrach. "

Wehnut is a rare term for Heym, expressing here a helpless longing: the emotional response to complete dissolution is correspondingly diminished--and paradoxically gains impact thereby. The image of 223

breaking glass as a symbol of death is familiar from Die Menschen

stehen vorwhfts in den Strassen:

Wer stirbt, der setzt sich auf, sich zu erheben, Und eben hat er noch ein Wort gesprochen, Auf einmal ist er fort. Wo ist sein Leben? Und seine Augen sind wie Glas zerbrochen. (I, 442)

In Die Hbfe luden uns ein the fragility of matter is extended to the atmosphere itself, suggesting an absolute of vulnerability and transcience as characteristic of all existence from the perspective of man. The fragility, which was evident from "schmhchtig" in line 1, is intensified by "dlinne" in line 14.

The final two lines present an eternal state. The use of present tense, combined with "ewig", expands the situation into infinity. The pale, fragile clouds ("weisslich") suggest an eternal dream-existence and memory reminiscent of Die Irren. The memory of the flight of butterflies at sunset reintroduces the death theme. Both "Falter" and

"Wolken" are addressed on occasion by Heym as "ihr toten Geister, " and sunset is a typical death symbol.

Die HBfe luden uns ein presents an eternity of emptiness in which man is disembodied and condemned to a state of perpetual numbness which is never quite oblivion. The remaining awareness and helplessness make the condition all the more horrible. The final lines, with their heaviness and falling cadence leave an aural impres­ sion of slumbrous dullness, which intensifies the feeling of 224 powerlessness. Time and space eventually collapse into a vacuum, smothering existence. FOOTNOTES

Chapter Three

^Dichter und Dichtung der Zeit. Band I: Vom Naturalismus bis zur Gegenwart, ed. Soergel and Hohoff, (Dtisseldorf: A. Bagel, 1961), p. 511.

2Heym, III, 90.

^See Mautz, p. 187f.

^Mautz, p. 195.

**See Mautz, pp. 164-179.

^Friedrich Nietzsche, Gesammelte Werke. XX. Band: Dichtungen (1859-1888), (Miinchen: Musarion Verlag, 1927), p. 150.

^Appeared in 1922 in G. Heym, Gesammelte Gedichte, ed. K. Pinthus and E. Loewensohn. It must be remembered, however, that like the title of Umbra Vitae (1912), there is no evidence to prove that Heym chose the title Der Himmel Trauerspiel.

®Heym, III, 136.

^cf. "Der Abend": "Der schnelle Tag ist hin, die Nacht schwingt ihre Fahn/ Und fUhrt die Sternen auf. " Andreas Gryphius, Werke. Dritter Band: Lryrische Gedichte, ed. Hermann Palm, (Hildeheim: G. Olms, 1961), p. 131.

225 CONCLUSION

As we have seen, Heym's earliest poems presented an idealized

landscape, whose idyllic character was based upon the belief in the

organic harmony of the human soul with the world of nature. Even­

tually the poet's view of the real landscape changed, as his actual

experience of nature was deepened and extended. With that development

(approximately 1907-1910) Heym produced a series of nature poems

and "Landschaftsbilder" of a descriptive nature, many of which were tied to a particular landscape, such as Aus Thilringen (, 103-4).

The elements of Heym's later alienation from nature and the

real landscape were present even in the earliest lyrics. Indeed, one may say that the early poetry, with its overtones of neoromanticism

and cosmic impressionism, is as far removed from reality as the distorted and threatening landscapes of the expressionist phase.

Heym's "metaphysical" landscape emerged directly from the poet's frustrated idealism. In many ways, the expressionist imagery presents a complete reversal of the poet's earlier values. The belief in the harmony of the individual with nature was replaced by an extreme alienation from the universe; the intense subjectivism which projected the individual into every natural process and regarded the

226 universe and its forces as reflections of human moods and concerns

changed into a profound alienation of subject from object. The poet's

disillusionment and frustration radically transformed his poetic

world. However, the development of Heym's poetic idiom demon­

strates his slowness to abandon the old images and values; instead, he

reversed the values and continued to employ many of the old images

(light, sun, infinity) in a modified, even negated form. Whereas for

the schoolboy Heym, man was a godlike creature with the power to

achieve communion with nature, in the mature poetry the relative

positions of man and natural forces were reversed. Man is no longer

able to endow the world with meaning; he has been deprived of his

define spark and has lost the ability to comprehend and control the world around him.

In Heym's later poetry, metaphysical preoccupations were translated into a concrete visuality which maintained points of con­

nection with everyday reality, even when irreal or visionary elements

predominated. As a manifestation of his overwhelming concentration upon visual imagery, it is not surprising that Heym presented the transformed world as a blighted landscape: the metaphysical land­

scape emerged from the real landscape through a deliberate process of

selection, dislocation and dissonance. This process of modification

rarely abandons reality all together. Instead, it presents the old 228

reality from a radically different perspective: that of man banished from his controlling position in the universe and reduced to the status

of a mere object among other objects. In his mature poetry, Heym presents the weakness and vulnerability of man and proceeds syste­ matically to exclude from man any possibility of understanding or control.

By selecting and emphasizing certain features of the "real" landscape, Heym creates a universe which, paradoxically, embodies both oppressive order and the constant threat of chaos. Particularly by means of cosmic images, the poet reveals a universe which is both tyrant and victim: no longer predictable, no longer offering the security of an eternal order, either oppressive toward man or indifferent.

Heym described his mature poetry as "dealing with things", an indication that his poetry is ,not to be viewed as an exclusively private and personal expression. The poet's obsession with determining man's position in the worod, and, more importantly, his value, leads him to examine metaphysical phenomena which determine both the external and internal world: death, time and temporality, the limits of the dimensions, the entire question of meaning, and of the nature of reality.

These concerns are conveyed via the new metaphysical landscape, in which certain features of the natural landscape achieve dominance and are endowed with special meaning: the cosmic phenomena, winter,

empty space, etc. At the same time, the metaphysical landscape is

shaped by a process of dislocation, whereby inanimate objects gain

independence, order is threatened or destroyed, and natural processes

are disturbed; for example, the course of the sun or moon may be

radically speeded up or slowed down. The same occurs with time, the

dimensions, and particularly with the tension between great and small:

"Und geringer/ Rings ist das Nahe, und die Weite so weit. " (I, 446).

Heym's metaphysical landscape is further characterized by a process

of dissonance, when normal relationships are disturbed, or cause and

effect is disrupted, or when the reaction to a stimulus is grossly

exaggerated or reduced.

All these phenomena result from a profound doubt about the

value of man and the nature of existence. The poet's pessimism is

exaggerated to hopelessness, and the spiritual anguish is intensified

by man's sense of loss and his helplessness. Heym presents the profound limitations of man by exaggerating the power of the forces exerted upon him and by expanding the limits of the universe into an

infinite and eternal emptiness. BIBLIOGRAPHY

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