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University Microfilms International 300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106 USA St. John's Road, Tyler's Green High Wycombe, Bucks, England HP10 8HR 77-10,526 FEDERICO, Joseph Anthony, 1949- METATHEATER: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS AND ROLE-PLAYING IN THE DRAMAS OF MAX FRISCH, FRIEDRICH DURRENMATT, AND PETER HANDKE. The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1976 Literature, Germanic

Xerox University Microfilms, Ann Arbor, Michigan 48io6

(t) Copyright by Joseph Anthony Federico 1976 METATHEATER:

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS AND ROLE-PLAYING IN THE DRAMAS OF

MAX FRISCH, FRIEDRICH DORRENMATT, AND PETER HANDKE

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate

School of The Ohio State University

By

Joseph Anthony Federico, B.A., M.A.

***** The Ohio State University

1976

Reading Committee: Approved by

Professor David H. Miles Professor Rainer Nagele Professor Henry J. Schmidt

/ctLN'rtC H • Adviser Department of German VITA

June 3, 194 9 ...... Born - Cleveland, Ohio

197 1 ...... B.A., The Cleveland State University, Cleveland Ohio

1971-197 5 ...... University Fellow, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

197 2 ...... M.A. , The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1972-1974; Summer, 1976 . . . Graduate Teaching Associate, The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1975-1976 ...... Graduate Research Associate, The Ohio State University, Columbus ,• Ohio

Major Field: German Literature TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page VITA ...... ii

INTRODUCTION ...... 1

1. Drama and the Problem of Genre: From Goethe to 1 Brecht ......

2. Postwar German Drama and Metatheater ...... 11

Chapter

I. MAX FRISCH: THE WORLD IS A S T A G E ...... 3 2

1. A Dramaturgy of Spiel...... 32

2. Frisch’s Plays: Alienation and the Quest for Identity. The Hero as Actor ...... 4 2

3. Metatheater: Self-Consciousness and Self- Dramatization. The Hero as Playwright . . 64 Don Juan Oder die Liebe zur Geometrie. . 64

4. Conclusion ...... 82

II. FRIEDRICH DORRENMATT: SELF-DRAMATIZATION AND ESCAPISM ...... 91

1. The Search for Meaning: Diirrenmatt' s Dramatic Characters...... 91

2. Chaos and Comedy ...... 104

3. Metatheater: Escape into the Self .... 113 Romulus der Grofle...... 115 Die Physiker ...... 124 Herkules und der Stall des Augias. . . . 130 Die WiedertSufer...... 135

4. Conclusion ...... 140

iii III. PETER HANDKE: THEATRICALITY, SOCIETY, AND THE TRUE SELF...... 149

1. Self-Conscious Theater and Self-Conscious S p e c t a t o r s ...... 149

2. The Theater Around Us: Handke’s Plays . . 156

3. Metatheater: The Role becomes Reality . . 170 Die Unverntlnftigen sterben a u s ...... 170

4. Conclusion ...... 185

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION ...... 193

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 197

iv INTRODUCTION

I Drama and the Problem of Genre: From Goethe to Brecht

And you should remember what has been said many times, and not try to make an epic compilation into a tragedy— by epic I here mean multifabular. For example, suppose one were to try and work the whole fable of the Iliad into a tragedy. In the epic, because of its length, the parts can be properly developed, but to do so in a play ^ often turns out to be an error of judgement.

Thus does Aristotle warn the poet against a careless mixing of literary genres— a warning which Goethe and Schiller, in deference to the authority of classical pronouncements, were loath to disregard. Hence, the question of the purity of genres occupies a central position in their aesthetic discus­ sions. In his letter to Schiller of December 23, 17 97, Goethe decries the fact "daB wir Moderne die Genres so sehr zu ver- 2 mischen geneigt sind." "Diesen eigentlich kxndischen, bar- barischen, abgeschmackten Tendenzen," he continues, "sollte nun der Ktinstler aus alien KrSften widerstehen, Kunstwerk von

Kunstwerk durch undurchdringliche Zauberkreise sondern, jedes bei seiner Eigenschaft und seinen Eigenheiten erhalten, so 3 wie es die Alten getan haben ..." This letter is accom­ panied by Goethe’s essay "Ober epische und tragische Dichtung" in which he attempts (with Schiller's help) to establish some of the essential differences between the two genres. In his letter of December 29, 1797, Schiller praises Goethe’s attempt

’’die beiden Gattungen zu sondern und zu reinigen," but is nevertheless skeptical whether the purity of genres can indeed be upheld in modern times. . .] Sie werden mit mir tiber- zeugt sein," he writes, "daJJ, urn von einem Kunstwerk alles auszuschliefien, was seiner Gattung fremd ist, man auch not- wendig alles darin mtisse einschliefien konnen, was der Gattung gebiihrt. Und eben daran fehlt es jetzt. Weil wir einmal die

Bedingungen nicht zusammen bringen konnen, unter welchen eine jede der beiden Gattungen steht, so sind wir genotigt, sie zu I4 vermischen." In his response Goethe reluctantly agrees, realizing that theory must often be compromised for the sake of practical necessities: "Ganz anders arbeitet man aus

Grundsatzen als aus Instinkt, und eine Abweichung, von deren

Notwendigkeit man iiberzeugt ist, kann nicht zum Fehler werden.

Schiller's own skepticism is brought a step further during his work on Die Jungfrau von Orleans '(1801) , which convinces him that traditional forms must yield to the demands of a modern subject matter. On July 26, 1800, he writes to Goethe:

’’Man muft, wie ich bei diesem Stuck sehe, sich durch keinen allgemeinen Begriff fesseln, sondern es wagen, bei einem neuen

Stoff die Form neu zu erfinden, und sich den Gattungsbegriff 0 immer beweglich erhalten." Later, he urges Goethe to assert

himself in a similar manner against the unwieldly subject mat- 7 ter of Faust. Goethe and Schiller are thus very much aware of the problems involved in imposing a classical conception of genres on contemporary subject matter, and they are pre­

pared— although with hesitancy and reluctance— to subordinate

Aristotle's guidelines to the particular requirements of

their works.

The aesthetic problems contained in the Goethe-Schiller

discussions were later resolved by Hegel. Hegel bases his

investigations on the historical relativity of aesthetic values

and forms, and denying the existence of eternally valid genre-

concepts, postulates instead the dialectical interrelatedness,

indeed the identity, of form and content in a work of art.

In the Wissenschaft der Logik he writes: "Bei dem Gegensatze

von Form und Inhalt ist wesentlich festzuhalten, daJ2> der In­

halt nicht formlos ist, sondern eben sowohl die Form in ihm

selbst hat, als sie ihm ein AeuBerliches ist. . . . An-sich

ist hier vorhanden das absolute Verhaltnis des Inhalts und

der Form, namlich das Umschlagen derselben in einander, so

dafi der Inhalt nichts ist, als das Umschlagen der Form in

Inhalt, und die Form nichts, als Umschlagen des Inhalts in g Form." He adds: "Wahrhafte Kunstwerke sind eben nur solche, g deren Inhalt und Form sich als durchaus identisch erweisen."

The nature of an artistic work is determined by the historical

circumstances in which it was produced. These historical

conditions are reflected in the content of the work, which in

turn determines the character of its form. In the relation­

ship between form and content, content is thus always primary. 4

Georg Lukacs explains Hegel's thinking in the following manner:

Die Hegelsche Asthetik geht immer vom Gehalt aus, und aus der konkreten geschicht- lichen und dialektischen Analyse dieses Gehalts leitet Hegel die grundlegenden asthetischen Kategorien ab, die Schonheit, das Ideal, die einzelnen konkreten kiinst- lerischen Formen, die Kunstgattungen.

Der Gehalt also, von dem hier die Rede ist, ist der jeweilige Entwicklungszustand der Gesellschaft und der Geschichte (Welt- zustand) . . . Fiir die Aktivitat des asthe­ tischen Subjekts folgt also die Notwendig- keit, die Aufgabe, diesen und nur diesen Gehalt . . . mit den der Kunst eigenen Mitteln auszudrticken. Wobei diese der Kunst eigentumlichen Mittel (Formen) nach der Hegelschen Asthetik ohne Ausnahme diesem Gehalt entwachsen. Die Hegelsche Asthetik beruht daher auf der Dialektik, auf der dialektischen Wechselwirkung von Gehalt und Form, undnzwar . . . auf der Prioritat des Gehalts.

For Hegel, Lukacs continues later, aesthetic genres are not

"einfache empirische Abstraktionen" or "gedankliche Differen-

tiationen irgendeiner platonischen Idee." They are "die

adaquatesten Ausdrilcke irgendeines aus konkreten gesellschaft-

lichen, historischen Situationen herausgewachsenen

Lebensgef iihls. " 1 '1'

In his Theorie des modernen Dramas, which is based on 12 Hegel's aesthetics, Peter Szondi describes the development

of modern drama in terms of a form-content dialectic which

had its source in the Renaissance. The drama of the Renais­

sance reflects the new self-assertiveness of a rising middle

class. It is "das geistige Wagnis des nach dem Zerfall des

' mittelalterlichen Weltbilds zu sich gekommenen Menschen" (Szondi, 14). The essential ingredient of the Renaissance drama is a dramatic confrontation between autonomous, deci­ sive individuals. "Der Mensch ging ins Drama gleichsam nur als Mitmensch ein," Szondi writes. "Die SphcLre des 'Zwischen' schien ihm die wesentliche seines Daseins; Freiheit und Bin- dung, Wille und Entscheidung die wichtigsten seiner Bestim- mungen. Der 'Ort’, an dem er zu dramatischer Verwirklichung gelangte, war der Akt des Sich-Entschlieflens. . . . Alles was diesseits oder jenseits dieses Aktes war, mufite dem Drama fremd bleiben . . ." (14). At the center of the Renaissance drama was the dialogue, and it is only in it and through it that the dramatic confrontation is realized. "Von der Mog- lichkeit des Dialogs hangt die Moglichkeit des Dramas ab,"

Szondi maintains (19). The drama of the Renaissance is "eine in sich geschlossene, aber freie und in jedem Moment von neuem bestimmte Dialektik" (15). The dramatic action is con­ fined to the dialogue; milieu has no significance of its own.

"Das Drama ist absolut. . . . Es kennt nichts aufter sich"

(15).13

Despite budding self-consciousness and a new belief in the autonomy of the individual, the Renaissance still possessed a unified metaphysical outlook. "Die nicht kodifizierte, obwohl sicherlich gar nicht so schwer systemisierbare Moral der Welt Shakespeares wird nie, filr keinen Moment, problema- 14 tisch," Lukacs writes. During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, however, the Weltanschauung upon which the Renaissance was based began to disintegrate. The conflict of generations in the dramas of the Sturm und Drang, with its favorite themes of patricide and fratricide, already reflects a loss of belief in the traditional order, and the metaphysi­ cal certainty of the Renaissance is clouded by skepticism.

The world as reflected in nineteenth century drama is more complex and diverse. Milieu assumes a new significance, and the autonomy of the individual is repeatedly compromised by external forces. Dramatic characters thus become more passive and the problem of personality itself becomes a central issue.

Georg Lukacs describes the new trends in the following manner:

Einerseits ist das zur Geltung Bringen und Aufrechterhalten der PersSnlichkeit als Lebensproblem bewuBt und die Sehnsucht, sie durchzusetzen, stets heftiger und starker geworden; andrerseits wuchsen jene SuBeren Umstande, welche dies vornherein unmoglich machen, zu immer groBerer Macht 3 n • • • * So konnten wir denn sagen, daB das Drama des Individualismus . . . zugleich das Drama des Milieus ist. Nur ein so hoch- gradig gesteigertes Gefiihl der Bedeutung des Milieus, durch welches es zum drama- tischen Element zu werden vermag, kann den Individualismus wahrhaft problematisch machen und dadurch das Drama des Indivi­ dualismus hervorbringen.

These themes are already developed in the works of Georg

Biichner. His characters, particularly Danton and Woyzeck,

are isolated individuals, victims of social conditions and

historical processes which seem to function beyond their con­

trol. In a letter of 1834 to Wilhelmine Jaegle, Biichner write

"Ich studierte die Geschichte der Revolution. Ich fiihlte mich wie zernichtet unter dem graftlichen Fatalismus der

Geschichte. Ich finde in der Menschennatur eine entsetzliche

Gleichheit, in den menschlichen Verhaltnissen eine unabwend- bare Gewalt, alien und keinem verliehen. Der einzelne nur

Schaum auf der Welle, die Grofte ein bloBer Zufall, die Herr-

schaft des Genies ein Puppenspiel, ein IScherliches Ringen

gegen ein ehernes Gesetz, es zu erkennen das Hochste, es zu 16 beherrschen unmoglich."

The drama of individualism and milieu expanded the dra­

matic subject matter beyond the scope of the Renaissance drama

"Das Leben," Lukacs writes, "als Stoff der Dichtung, ist—

ganz kurz gesagt--epischer, oder genauer noch, romanhafter 17 geworden, als es je gewesen ist ..." This new epic sub­

ject matter conflicted with the dramatic form which the nine­

teenth century inherited from the Renaissance. Passive,

reflective individuals were irreconcilable with a form depen­

dent upon self-assertive, autonomous characters, and the in­

creasing importance assumed by milieu constituted an intrusion

into the autonomous sphere of the dialogue. This conflict

represents the second stage of Szondi1s form-content dialectic

In the drama of the nineteenth century, the primacy of the

dialogue— the core of the Renaissance drama--was forced to

yield to the demands of the subject matter. Thus, in Ibsen1s

dramas the characters are preoccupied with "die Vergangenheit

selbst, als erinnerte und im Innern weiterwirkende,," and as a

result, "das Zwischenmenschliche" is suppressed by "Innermenschliches" (Szondi, 74). Similarly: "Das tStige

Leben in der Gegenwart weicht in Tschechows Dramen dem trSu- merischen in der Erinnerung und der Utopie. Das Geschehen wird beilaufig und der Dialog, die zwischenmenschliche Aus- spracheform, zum Gefai2> monologischer Ref lexionen. - In Werken

Strindbergs wird das Zwischenmenschliche entweder aufgehoben oder durch die subjektive Linse eines zentralen Ich gesehen"

(Szondi, 74). In the dramas of Gerhard Hauptmann, "das zwi­ schenmenschliche Leben" is depicted "in seiner Bestimmtheit durch Auftermenschliches: durch die politisch-dkonomischen

Verhaltnisse" (Szondi, 7 5). In each case, the traditional form is compromised by the content. "Auf diese Weise,"

Szondi concludes, "verneint das Drama des ausgehenden neun-

zehnten Jahrhunderts in seinem Inhalt, was es, aus Treue zum

Oberlieferten, formal weiter aussagen will: die zwischen­ menschliche Aktualit&t" (75).

The dramatic representation of "Innermenschliches," of a

"zentrales Ich," or of "die politisch-dkonomischen VerhSlt-

nisse" implies authorial intrusion into the self-contained 18 sphere of the drama. Hans Robert Jauss has pointed out

that authorial consciousness disappears from late nineteenth

and early twentieth century novels, making them more "drama­

tic" (the stream of consciousness technique, for example,

eliminates the need for an omniscient narrator). This

authorial perspective, it seems, reappears in the drama,

which thus becomes "epic." The resultant form-content contradiction— and Szondi's dialectic--is finally resolved in the twentieth century with the development of new "epic" forms of theater to correspond to the epic subject matter.

Among the innovators of the new "epic" forms, the most significant for the German-speaking theater is Bertolt Brecht.

Brecht recognizes that artistic forms are relative to the historical period which produced them, and his Epic Theater represents a conscious attempt to develop a dramatic form especially suited to the particular character of twentieth century society. As a Marxist, Brecht believed the theater should serve the interests of the oppressed and exploited classes— "die eigentlichen Kinder des wissenschaftlichen 19 Zeitalters" — whom it should present with a "praktikables 20 Weltbild" to aid them in their struggle against unjust -f/ . social conditions. "Das Theater mufi sich in der Wirklichkeit

engagieren . . ." (Organon, 672), he declares. Brecht's Epic 21 Theater is thus an educative institution. It strives to

convince the spectator that human behavior is dependent on

economic and social conditions, which are not inexplicable or

unalterable, but which are the products of analyzable social

and historical processes that are motivated, sustained— and

may be changed— by man himself. Characters and events on the

stage are therefore portrayed as socially and historically

relative; that is, as transient and changeable. "Das mensch-

liche Verhalten wird als verSnderlich gezeigt, der Mensch als

abhSngig von gewissen Gkonomisch-politischen VerhSltnissen 10

2 2 und zugleich als fahig, sie zu verandern," Brecht writes.

Instead of empathy, the Epic Theater demands that the specta­ tor assume a critical attitude toward events on the stage.

As the theatrical form indigenous to an age of production, it makes "die Kritik, das heiJJt die groBe Methode der Produktivi- tat, zur Lust" (Organon, 673). Brecht describes this critical attitude in the following way: "Gebeniiber einem FluB besteht sie in der Regulierung des Flusses . . . gegeniiber der Gesell- schaft in der Umwalzung der Gesellschaft" (Organon, 671).

"Der Lehrwert des Theaters," Walter Hinck concludes, "besteht also darin, kritische Einsichten in die Gesellschaftsstruktur zu vermitteln und den DenkanstoB fur eine weltverandernde 2 3 Praxis zu geben."

This dramatic theory is converted into practice with the help of "Verfremdungseffekte." "Es handelt sich hierbei, kurz gesagt, urn eine Technik, mit der darzustellenden Vor- gangen zwischen Menschen der Stempel des Auffallenden, des der Erklarung Bediirftigen, nicht Selbstverstandlichen, nicht 24 einfach Natiirlichen verliehen werden kann," Brecht explains.

All of Brecht’s Verfremdungseffekte are based on conscious authorial intrusion into the autonomous sphere of the drama.

This authorial intervention destroys the theatrical illusion, thus encouraging reflection on the part of the spectators.

The dramatist presides over the dramatic action like the

omniscient narrator of a nineteenth century novel, guiding

the action and directing the attention of the audience to 11 motivating factors and cause-effect relationships, which may

otherwise have escaped their notice. "Auf der Biihne," Marianne

Kesting writes, "wird dem Zuschauer bewuftt, anhand der Fabel, 25 etwas gezeigt." The principle of Verfremdung constitutes

the heart of Brecht's dramaturgy. "Die Auslegung der Fabel

und ihre Vermittlung durch geeignete Verfremdungen," he main­

tains, "ist das Hauptgeschaft des Theaters" (Organon, 696).

Thus, the epic subject matter, which began to invade the drama

of the nineteenth century and destroy its traditional form,

2 6 finds its formal counterpart in Brecht's Epic Theater.

Indeed, one of the author's most common V-Effekte involves

the presence of a narrator (Spielleiter) on the stage (cf.

Per kaukasische Kreidekreis).

II Postwar German Drama and Metatheater

There is hardly a dramatist writing in postwar West

Germany or Switzerland who has not been affected by Brecht.

Regarding his influence on contemporary German drama, Walter

Hinck sees "die Theaterasthetik des spHten Brecht als ein

Kreuzungspunkt zweier Wege: Die eine Linie weist iiber Brecht

zuriick in die Richtung des politischen und des Agitprop-

Theaters . . . der zwanziger Jahre, w&hrend die andere— in

die Gegenrichtung fuhrend— das Theater aus der Bindung an

das politische Engagement zu losen und somit das Brechtsche

Modell urn seine sozial-politische Dimension zu verkiirzen 27 trachtet." The first group includes such authors as Peter

Weiss and Heiner Kipphardt, whose social and political 12 engagement has also led to the creation of a new dramatic form: the Documentary Theater. Among the dramatists of the

second group, perhaps the most important are Max Frisch,

Friedrich Dtirrenmatt, and Peter Handke. Although they occa­

sionally adopt certain formal innovations developed by Brecht,

particularly those associated with the concept of Verfremdung, these authors have become increasingly skeptical toward the

basic presuppositions upon which Brecht's dramaturgy rests.

In another essay, Walter Hinck lists the "geistige Voraus-

setzungen" of Brecht's theater, and specifically of his pre­

ference for the parable, in the following manner:

1. Das Vertrauen in die Belehrbarkeit des Zuschauers, die Zuversicht, das Publikum zu einer neuen, kritischen Zuschauerhaltung erziehen zu konnen. 2. Die Oberzeugung von der Durchschaubar- keit der Welt und der Analysierbarkeit der Gesellschaft. . . . 3. Das Vertrauen in die VerSnderbarkeit der Welt. . . .

For Frisch, Diirrenmatt, and Handke these presuppositions,

and thus the dramatic form upon which they are based, have

become increasingly untenable. Historical and political

processes which have determined the character of modern

society seem to function beyond man's control; technological

advances, whose destructive power was unleashed in the second

world war and which have given man the capability of destroy­

ing himself and his world, seem to have outdistanced man's

ability to understand them and to use them wisely. Moreover,

government itself has become an enormous bureaucratic machine, 13 in the face of which the individual seems insignificant and inconsequential. Brecht's conviction of the "Durchschaubar- keit der Welt und der Analysierbarkeit der Gesellschaft" assumes more and more the character of an ephemeral illusion.

Thus, Dilrrenmatt sees himself confronted with an abstract, bureaucratic political structure which is entirely inaccessible and incomprehensible to the individual: "Der heutige Staat ist jedoch unuberschaubar, anonym, biirokratisch geworden . . .

Die echten Reprasentanten fehlen, und die tragischen Helden 2 9 sind ohne Namen." For Diirrenmatt, the world is a chaos,

"ein RStsel an Unheil" ("Theaterprobleme," 123), and in con­ trast to Brecht’s optimistic belief in "die Ver&nderbarkeit der Welt," he is convinced that all attempts to bring about social change are doomed to frustration. Although his early plays are strongly influenced by Brecht, Frisch, too, becomes

increasingly disillusioned with the premises of the Epic 30 Theater. He speaks of the "Undurchschaubarkeit" of a world which is governed not by analyzable historical processes, but by a "Summierung von ZufSllen" ("Schillerpreis-Rede," 98), and he is preoccupied with the search for a "Dramaturgie des

Unglaubens" ("Schillerpreis-Rede," 99) which would correspond

to his pessimistic outlook. Like Brecht, Handke is aware of

the class structure in society, but he is skeptical whether

the members of a society, whose behavior and thinking are

thoroughly manipulated according to the "Dramaturgie des 31 herrschenden Systems," will ever be able to transcend their

social roles and initiate reform. Not surprisingly, Frisch, Durrenmatt, and Handke have all voiced their doubts regarding Brecht’s belief in the

"Belehrbarkeit des Zuschauers." Although they occasionally employ Verfremdungseffekte and hope that the spectator will reflect upon what he has seen on the stage, they all seriously question Brecht's contention that the theater can be actively employed as an instrument of social or political reform.

"Millionen von Zuschauern haben Brecht gesehen und werden ihn wieder und wieder sehen," Frisch writes, "daft einer da- durch seine politische Denkweise geandert hat oder auch nur einer Priifung unterzieht, wage ich zu bezweifeln." 32 Handke agrees: "Das Theater als gesellschaftliche Einrichtung scheint mir unbrauchbar fUr eine Anderung gesellschaftlicher Einrich- 3 3 tungen." Durrenmatt is also skeptical. He claims that it 3 4 is not his intention "die Welt zu deuten" and merely ex­ presses the cautious hope that the sensitive and receDtive

spectator might ask himself "inwiefern der Fall auf der Biihne

auch sein Fall sei." 3 5 However, the dramatist must always

keep in mind "dafi der Zuschauer zu nichts gezwungen werden

kann.", it 3 6

Unlike Brecht, Frisch, Diirrenmatt, and Handke make no

systematic attempt to analyze the social and historical

processes which produced modern society; as a result, they

find themselves confronted with an incomprehensible and

immutable chaos. Hence, they turn inward and attempt to

accomplish in the private sector what they believe is impossible 15 in the political arena. "Die Welt als ganze ist in Verwir- rung . . . Die Welt des einzelnen dagegen ist noch zu bewcil- 37 tigen, hier gibt es noch Schuld und Siihne," Diirrenmatt writes. Similarly, Frisch describes the "Domane der Litera- tiir" as "das Einzelwesen, das Ich . . . also die Darstellung der Person, die in der Statistik enthalten ist, aber in der

Statistik nicht zur Sprache kommt und im Hinblick aufs Ganze irrelevant ist, aber leben muB mit dem BewuBtsein, daB sie 3 8 irrelevant ist." And Handke, who characterizes his own 3 9 work as "subjektivistisch," proclaims: "Es interessiert mich als Autor iibrigens gar nicht, die Wirklichkeit zu zeigen oder zu bewaltigen, sondern es geht mir darum, meine Wirklich- , .. • „40 kext zu zeigen ..."

Thus, where Brecht is convinced that society can be analyzed and reformed, Frisch, Durrenmatt, and Handke are overwhelmed by a feeling of alienation; and where Brecht is preoccupied with "dem Verhalten der Menschen zueinander, wo 1 es sozialhistorisch bedeutend (typisch) ist," they have become increasingly self-conscious. This new Lebensgefuhl finds formal expression in metatheater.

The basic tenets of metatheater were first formulated by

Lionel Abel in a collection of essays entitled Metatheatre: U9 A New View of Dramatic Form (1963). Abel attempts to de­ fine a form, which, he says, encompasses most of modern (post­ antique) drama, and to distinguish it from the tragic form developed by the ancient Greeks. Tragedy, he maintains, was no longer a viable dramatic form in Western art as soon as the Greek civilization and the metaphysic upon which it was based ceased to exist. The main ingredient necessary for the success of tragedy, says Abel, is a belief in "implacable values" (79). It is through a belief in implacable values that the "objectivity of the world" (79), that is, of reality, is maintained, and "no form of drama gives such a compelling effect of the real as does the form of tragedy" (108). A belief in implacable values, however, has not continued to be an attribute of modern civilization: "Now the Western imagi­ nation has, on the whole, been liberal and skeptical; it has tended to regard all implacable values as false" (77). It is this traditionally skeptical and questioning attitude which has doomed the revival of true tragedy in modern times. This enlightened mood, says Abel, was accompanied by increasing

"self-consciousness" (77), not only on the part of the drama­ tist, but also on the part of his protagonists. And the more self-conscious the dramatist and his characters became, the more the external world--and implacable values— became sub­ jective, relative: "We cannot have it both ways," Abel writes, "a gain for consciousness means a loss for the reality of its objects, certainly for the reality of its main object, namely the world" (78). As a result, tragedy became increas­

ingly rare, being replaced by a new type of "self-conscious" play, to which Abel has given the name "metatheater": "Now the Western playwright is unable to believe in the reality of 17 a character who is lacking in self-consciousness. Lack of self-consciousness is as characteristic of Antigone, Oedipus, and Orestes, as self-consciousness is characteristic of

Hamlet, that towering figure of Western metatheatre’’ (77).

The inevitable consequence of this self-consciousness— and the main formal ingredient of metatheater--is self-drama- tization. The metaplay, Abel writes, is "the necessary form for dramatizing characters who, having full self-conscious­ ness, cannot but participate in their own dramatization" (78).

Like their authors, the heroes of metatheater are too aware, too conscious to remain oblivious to their own roles. They have "the consciousness of a dramatist as well as that of a

character" (49, note), and they dramatize not only themselves 4 3 but also the other characters around them. Abel notes that

in Hamlet, for example, "almost every important character

acts at some moment like a playwright, employing a playwright’s

consciousness of drama to impose a certain posture or atti­

tude on another" (46). He suggests that Hamlet’s reluctance

to carry out the order given him by the Ghost is the reaction

of "a man with a playwright’s consciousness who has just been

told to be an actor" (47). In a commentary on Abel's book,

Susan Sontag agrees with his observations. "The principal

plays of Shakespeare," she notes, "are plays about self-

consciousness, about characters not acting so much as drama­

tizing themselves in roles. . . . Achilles and Oedipus do not

see themselves as, but are, hero and king. But Hamlet and 18

Henry V see themselves as acting parts . . . From Prospero to the Police Chief in Genet's The Balcony, the personages of 44 metatheater are characters in search of an action." Be­ cause the main character of every metaplay is also a "play­ wright" who dramatizes himself and those around him, the play-within-a-play and other forms of theater-within-the- theater are common. The play-within-a-play, Robert J. Nelson 45 observes, "is not clearly defined until the Renaissance."

Like Abel, he sees the form as the literary reflection of rising self-consciousness: "Conscious of all doubt, man becomes self-conscious. . . . The theater mirrors this intro­

version in that literary form of self-consciousness called 46 the play within a play" (10). Thus, Abel interprets

Shakespeare's frequent use of this device as an attempt to

develop a form which could contain his self-conscious charac­

ters, who are not only characters but also dramatists. As

the product of self-consciousness "the play within a play,"

says Nelson, "is the invention of the modern world" (8). The

guiding metaphor of metatheater thus states that "the world

is a stage" (Abel, 105), and Abel applies it with varying

degrees of success to plays from Shakespeare to Beckett.

Abel's observations regarding the birth of modern drama

are in general agreement with the assessments put forward by

Lukacs and Szondi, who also cite increasing subjectivity.

However, there are some inaccuracies in his assertions. He

is correct in pointing out the self-consciousness of 19

Shakespeare's characters, but it is doubtful whether it can be deduced from this self-consciousness that the Renaissance 47 regarded "all implacable values as false." On the contrary, as Lukacs has observed, the Renaissance still rested on solid metaphysical foundations: "Hamlets und Claudius', ja sogar auch Richards und Richmonds sittliche Auffassung, Wertungsart 48 ist im Grunde dieselbe." It is only in the drama of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that the traditional metaphysic is seriously called into question and the full consequences of increasing self-consciousness are realized.

Furthermore, the term "metatheater," as Abel employs it, is ambivalent. In his usage, the form is so broad and inclu­ sive that there are relatively few works which may not be characterized as metaplays. According to Abel, aside from a few genuine tragedies (Shakespeare's Macbeth, for example) and comedies, most plays belong either to metatheater or to the relatively small fatalistic-realistic school founded by

Ibsen and represented in the works of such playwrights as

Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, and Eugene O'Neill. So it is that such diverse works as Hamlet, Tartuffe, Maria Stuart, and Waiting for Godot (to name but a few) are all described by Abel as metaplays, because, he says, they all contain conscious self-dramatization or other forms of theater-within- the-theater. He fails to take into consideration the changing

historical and social conditions under which these plays were 49 written, and as Susan Sontag suggests, there are major 20 differences among them which he does not adequately consider.

His attempt to find the formal raison d'etre of all these works in his concept of metatheater is somewhat less than convincing.^ Abel's essays are important, therefore, not as a theoretical exposition of a new dramatic form, but rather as a perceptive and enlightening analysis of self-conscious­ ness in Western art and its relation to self-dramatization and theater-within-the-theater in plays from the Renaissance to the present.

I have incorporated Abel's insights into my own investi­ gation, but have also modified and expanded his ideas into a more clearly defined form--one which represents a more precise reflection of the Lebensgefiihl of its authors. In modern times, skepticism and self-consciousness have become acute.

In an article on modern French drama, Colin Radford notes that "with the loss of clear religious or philosophical be­ liefs, a mood of spiritual bewilderment is becoming more common and more noticeable" in the twentieth century. An important result of this skepticism has been "a turn inwards, demonstrable by theatre's concern for the theatre and the individual dramatist's concern for self."^ In the plays of

Frisch, Diirrenmatt, and Handke, conscious role-playing re­ flects a self-consciousness born of intense disillusionment and alienation. Moreover, whereas Abel's self-dramatization was often incidental to the main thrust of the plot, it is now always integrated into the central problem of the play: a confrontation between individual and society. 21

Like his creator, the hero of every metaplay, as I now define it, is alienated from the world he lives in. He is a nonconformist, an adversary of the reigning ideology. Frisch's

Don Juan defies the hypocritical Christianity of his country­ men and openly praises the "heathens" and their mathematical expertise. Similarly, Diirrenmatt's emperor, Romulus, is an idealist who advocates the fall of the Roman Empire in the name of justice, and Handke's entrepreneur, Hermann Quitt, is an introspective individual at odds with a ruthless cartel.

As a result of this conflict with society, the hero retreats into himself and becomes increasingly self-conscious. He rejects his social role in favor of one which he himself has authored. Every meta-hero has "the consciousness of a drama­ tist as well as that of a character," and "employing a play­ wright's consciousness of drama," he dramatizes himself and those around him in his own script. Hence, metatheater still implies a play-within-a-play situation; but now, in contrast to Abel's version, role-playing is deliberately employed by the hero as a tactic. Don Juan and Quitt dramatize themselves in order to escape the role imposed upon them by society.

Romulus and Mobius employ role-playing as a means of subject­ ing society to their wills, and Bockelson retreats into his roles in order to avoid confronting an inhospitable environment.

The use of role-playing as a tactical response to a hostile society is thus an important modification of Abel's unqualified references to self-dramatization. In this respect, 22 metatheater also differs from those dramas of Shakespeare containing a play-within-a-play. For even where the play- within-a-play is used as a strategem, as in Hamlet, where the prince attempts to "catch the conscience of the king" (11,2), or in The Merry Wives of Windsor, where the fairy masqueraders attempt to catch Falstaff, it is not employed primarily as a 5 2 tactical response to a hostile society. Moreover,

Shakespeare's plays-within-a-play are often separate entities, complete with their own on-stage spectators (Hamlet, A Mid­ summer Night1s Dream). In metatheater, the other dramatis personae are for the most part oblivious to the hero's "drama."

Indeed, the success of his play is often dependant on the fact that they remain so.

Although the fictive audience— the other characters on

stage— is unaware of the hero's role-playing, it is in most

instances immediately visible as such to the real audience.

This discrepancy disrupts the theatrical illusion, for as

Walter Pache has pointed out: "in der Divergenz von fiktivem

und realem Publikum manifestiert sich der Zusammenbruch des 5 3 Illusionstheaters." Like Brecht's Verfremdungseffekte,

conscious role-playing is an "epic" device implying authorial

reflection on the drama. It is deliberately employed as an

alienation effect especially by Max Frisch. Unlike Brecht,

however, the authors of metatheater do not employ alienation

systematically to encourage insight into the historical

process, but to insure the spectator's mental alertness so 23 that he may better understand the situation presented on the stage.

Conscious role-playing not only suggests authorial intru­ sion into the drama, it also implies the ability and willing­ ness of the dramatist to reflect on his own medium. In this respect, metatheater is closely related to romantic irony.

Ludwig Tieck's Der gestiefelte Kater (17 97), for example, abounds in theater-within-the-theater. In both cases, au­ thorial self-consciousness manifests itself in an attitude of play toward the poetic medium. In metatheater, however, role-playing not only reflects self-consciousness, but also

increasing skepticism: the alienated hero dramatizes himself

in response to a hostile environment. Moreover, self-drama- tization in metatheater is often associated with the problem of identity. The search for a new role implies a search for the true self. The hero withdraws into himself and frequently

seeks to realize his true identity in a script dictated by

hiS'own imagination. Thus, Radford concludes that "the most

notable effect of 'theater within the theatre1 is to be found

in the strength which it attributes to illusion at the expense

of conventional confidence in the world of reality, of exter-

nalia, of concrete and everyday existence. From this tendency

develops the notion that illusion constitutes the truer, or

at least the preferable, reality" (83). He fears that "theatre

in general may risk losing touch with a commonly apprehensible

reality" (86). In metatheater, however,, theatricality is 24 always employed in a social context. Indeed, in most cases the reigning ideology asserts itself at the expense of the hero and his role. Don Juan is forced to marry, Mobius is defeated by the political opportunism of Fraulein Doktor

Mathilde von Zahnd, and Hermann Quitt succumbs to his class r o l e .

Although both forms employ theatricality, metatheater has little in common with the Theater of the Absurd. In order to depict what Martin Esslin calls "its sense of the sense­ lessness of the human condition and the inadequacy of the 54 rational approach," the Theater of the Absurd employs theatrical devices in isolation from any recognizable plot, character development, or milieu. Unlike the self-conscious heroes of metatheater, its characters are "almost mechanical puppets" (4); the plays themselves "seem often to be reflec­ tions of dreams and nightmares" (4). In the "open abandon­ ment of rational devices and discursive thought" (6), the

Absurd tends more than any other form to what Radford sees as "the creation of an increasingly self-sufficient stage, a hermetic form of drama" (87). By contrast, metatheater is always concerned with the individual and his relation to

society, and the elements of plot, character, and social milieu are always present.

In addition to Abel's self-consciousness and self­

dramatization, the hallmarks of the form described above

thus include: a central conflict between individual and society, the hero's use of role-playing as a tactic (and the author's occasional use of it as a Verfremdungseffekt), and the recurring theme of identity. Through an investigation of metatheater in the works of three representative playwrights

— Max Frisch, Friedrich Durrenmatt, and Peter Handke— the following chapters attempt to establish it as a sub-genre of contemporary drama which marks a trend in the postwar German theater. 26

Footnotes

■'"Aristotle, Aristotle on the Art of Fiction. The Poetics, trans. and ed. J.L. Potts TCambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968 ) , p. 42.

2 Der Briefwechsel zwischen Schiller und Goethe, ed. Emil Staiger (Frankfurt am Main: Tnsel Verlag, 196 6 ), p . 518

3 Der Briefwechsel zwischen Schiller und Goethe, p. 519.

4 Der Briefwechsel zwischen Schiller und Goethe, p. 528.

^Letter of December 30, 17 97. Der Briefwechsel zwischen Schiller und Goethe, p. 530.

0 Der Briefwechsel zwischen Schiller und Goethe, p. 860.

7 Letter of September 13, 1800. Der Briefwechsel zwischen Schiller und Goethe, pp. 870-871.

g Samtliche Werke, Jubilaumsausgabe in zwanzig Banden (Stuttgart: Fr. Frommanns Verlag, 1929), VIII, 302.

9Samtliche Werke, VIII, 303.

■'■<9"Hegels Asthetik" in Beitrage zur Geschichte der Asthetik (Berlin: Aufbau Verlag, 1956), pT 107.

■'■■'■"Hegels Asthetik," p. 116.

12 Peter Szondi, Theone des modernen Dramas, 3rd ed. (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1966).

13 The drama of the Renaissance, as Szondi points out, is also the drama of Classicism. But as we have seen, Goethe and Schiller were forced to compromise traditional forms in order to accommodate a modern subject matter, and Lukacs al­ ready detects the beginnings of a diversified metaphysical 27 outlook in their works. See Georg Lukacs, "Zur Soziologie des modernen Dramas," Archiv fur Sozialwissenschaft und Sozialpolitik, 38(1914), p . 330 and passim.

14 He continues: "Daher konnte Hegel wohl sagen, die Handlungen der Shakespeareschen Helden seien nicht 'sittlich berechtigt1. Denn die sittliche Wertung ruhte damals auf so stark metaphysischen Grundlagen, duldete so wenig irgendeine Art von RelativitSt, ihre Allgemeinheit baute sich auf so mystische, nicht analysierbare Gefuhle auf, dafi, wer— aus was immer fiir Griincen und Motiven— ihr entgegenhandelte, nicht einmal subjektiv berechtigt handeln konnte." "Zur Soziologie des modernen Dramas," pp. 331-332.

15 "Zur Soziologie des modernen Dramas," pp. 668-669.

16 Samtliche Werke nebst Briefen und anderen Dokumenten, ed. Hans Jurgen Meinerts, 3rd ed. TGdtersloh: Sigbert Mohn Verlag, 1965), pp. 390-391.

17 "Zur Soziologie des modernen Dramas," p. 671.

18 Zeit und Erinnerung in Marcel Prousts "A la recherche du temps perdu" (Heidelberg: Carl Winter Universitatsverlag, 1955). See especially chapter one, pp. 14-53. Cf. also Szondi, pp. 78-79.

19 Kleines Organon fur das Theater in Gesammelte Werke in 20 Banden (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1967), XVI, 672 .

20 •• "Uber experimentelles Theater" in Gesammelte Werke in 20 Banden, XV, 297.

21 This pedagogical intent also explains Brecht’s penchant for the parable, which Walter Hinck describes as "eine Ssthe- tische Form des Didaktischen." "Von der Parabel zum Strafien- theater. Notizen zum Drama der Gegenwart" in Gestalgungs- geschichte und Gesellschaftsgeschichte, ed. Helmut Kreuzer (Stuttgart: J.B. Metzlersche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1969), p. 585. See also Marianne Resting, "Das deutsche Drama seit Ende des Zweiten Weltkriegs" in Die deutsche Literatur der Gegenwart. Aspekte und Tendenzen, ed. Manfred Durzak (Stutt­ gart: Reclam Verlag, 1971), pp. 76-98. 28

2 2 .. "Uber die Verwendung von Musik fur ein episches Theater" in Gesammelte Werke in 20 Banden, XV, 474-475.

2 3 "Von Brecht zu Handke— Deutsche Dramatik der sechziger Jahre," Universitas, 24(1969), 691. Thus, as Marianne Kesting also points out, Tt would be wrong to dismiss Brecht's theater as propaganda or to approach it "im Sinne eines primitiven Schuldramas." For Brecht's theater "dient . . . der Lehre eines Denkprozesses. Viele der Brechtschen Stiicke bringen das Problem, aber nicht die Losung . . . Die Brechtschen Stvicke dienen also einer BewuB.tseinsentwicklung. Sie geben AnstoB zu einer Denkrichtung." Das epische Theater. Zur Struktur des modernen Dramas (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer Verlag, 1959), pp. 61-62.

24 "Die StraBenszene. Grundmodell einer Szene des epischen Theaters" in Gesammelte Werke in 20 Banden, XVI, 553.

25 Das epische Theater. Zur Struktur des modernen Dramas, p . 6 5.

2 6 New epic forms were, of course, also developed by other dramatists, such as Luigi Pirandello (Sei personaggi in cerca d 'autore, 1921), Thorton Wilder (The Long Christmas PTnner, 1931; Our Town, 1938), and Tennessee Williams (Camino Real, 1953). See also Szondi and Kesting (Das epische Theater).

2 7 "Von Brecht zu Handke— Deutsche Dramatik der sechziger Jahre," p. 6 92.

2 8 "Von der Parabel zum StraBentheater. Notizen zum Drama der Gegenwart," p. 5 85.

2 9 "Theaterprobleme" in Theater-Schriften und Reden (Zurich: Verlag der Arche, 1966), pp. 119-120.

30 "Schillerpreis-Rede" in Offentlichkeit als Partner, 4th ed. (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972), p. 95.

31 "Die Arbeit des Zuschauers" in Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms, 3rd ed. (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1975), p. 99. 29 3 2 "Der Autor und das Theater" in Offentlichkeit als Partner, pp. 72-73.

3 3 "Strafientheater und Theatertheater" in Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms, p. 53.

34 "Standortsbestimmung zu Frank V." in Theater-Schriften und Reden, p. 186.

3 5 "Dramaturgische Oberlegungen zu den Wiedertaufern" in Dramatisches und Kritisches. Theater-Schriften und Reden II (Zurich: Verlag der Arche, 197 2), p . 173 .

3 6 "Dramaturgische Oberlegungen zu den Wiedertaufern," p. 174.

3 7 "Ansprache anlafllich der Verleihung des Kriegsblinden- Preises" in Theater-Schriften und Reden, p. 48.

3 8 Dramaturgisches. Ein Briefwechsel mit Walter Hollerer (Berlin: Colloquium Verlag, 1969), p. 34.

3 9 "Ich will iiber das schreiben, was die Leute verdrangen. Ein Gesprach zwischen Peter Handke und Heinz Ludwig Arnold," Die Zeit, 12 March 1976.

40 "Ich bin e m Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms" in Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms, p. 25.

41 .. "Uber die Verwendung von Musik fur ein episches Theater," p. 474.

42 Quotations are taken from Metatheatre: A New View of Dramatic Form, 5th ed. (New York! Hill and Wang, 1969).

43 Cf. Lowell Lyndon Manfull, "Drama as Role-Playing: A Technique for Analysis," Dissertation Abstracts, 22(1961), 2105-2106 (University of Minnesota). Like Abel, Manfull also observes that "the dramatic character is himself an actor who pursues a variety of roles during the course of a play." He attempts to demonstrate that the "study of a play's role 30 structure" can lead to "the discovery of the depth and com­ plexity of characters, an understanding of the relationship between events in a play and their effects upon the characters, and a comprehension of the central action."

44 "The death of tragedy" in Against Interpretation (New York: Dell, 1966), p. 135.

45 Play within a Play. The Dramatist1s Conception of his Art: Shakespeare to Anouilh CNew Haven: Yale University Press, 1958), p. 8.

46 Cf. also Herbert Lmdenberger, who regards "the thea­ trical metaphor" as "a way of overcoming self-consciousness" (27). He investigates the significance of "the idea of theater and theatricality" (29) in the historical drama. Historical Drama. The Relation of Literature and Reality (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 197 5 ), esp. pp. 27-29 .

47 Susan Sontag takes issue with Abel's references to "implacable values" in general. Abel's assertion that a belief in implacable values is essential to tragedy and that the Western imagination "has tended to regard all implacable values as false" is, she says, "wrong and, where it is not wrong, superficial" (136). She reminds Abel of the Christian tradition in Western culture, a tradition which certainly believed in "implacable values," but which nevertheless pro­ duced no tragedies. "It is not the implacability of 'values' which is demonstrated by tragedy," she argues, "but the implacability of the world. . . . Tragedy is a vision of nihilism, a heroic or ennobling vision of nihilism" (136).

4 8 "Zur Soziologie des modernen Dramas," p. 331.

49 "The death of tragedy," pp. 137-138.

50 Abel's inclusion of Brecht among the metadramatists is also, as Susan Sontag says, "misleading" (138). Although Brecht did not write tragedies, as a Marxist he did entertain a belief in some "implacable values." Abel's assertions to the effect that Brecht’s "concepts of acting and stage design" (105) were calculated to produce the impression that the world is a stage, and that the "reality in his plays is that of theatre and not that of life" (105) are also inaccurate. Brecht's Verfremdungseffekte are not designed to convince the 31 spectator that the world is a stage, but rather to remind him that the stage is a stage: to sustain his mental alertness in the theater so that he might apply its lessons to the out­ side world. See also Susan Sontag, pp. 138-139.

51 "Theatre within the Theatre," Nottingham French Studies, lKOctober, 1972), 88 .

52 Cf. also Robert J. Nelson, chapter two, pp. 11-35.

53 "Pirandellos Urenkel. Formen des Spiels im Spiel bei Max Frisch und Tom Stoppard," Sprachkunst, 4(1973), 135-136.

54 The Theatre of the Absurd, 3rd ed. (Garden City, New York: Anchor Books, 1959) , p. 6. CHAPTER ONE

MAX FRISCH: THE WORLD IS A STAGE

I Introduction: A dramaturgy of Spiel

In his "Buchner-Rede" of 1958, Max Frisch speaks of "ein

Gefiihl der Fremde schlechthin"'*' which confronts him as a modern author. He attributes this feeling of alienation to modern society. In the face of "die Ideologie und ihre tod-

lichen Fronten" (BR 55) the individual feels isolated and

insignificant. Rejecting nationalism and unable to choose

between ideological "Alternativen, die keine sind" (BR 46),

he is overcome by a "Gefiihl der Unzugehorigkeit" (BR 51).

Moreover, the individual's decisions seem determined by

forces beyond his control. He is alienated from his own

actions. In his "Schillerpreis-Rede" (1965) Frisch writes:

"[. . .] wo wir Entscheidung treffen, erweist es sich als

Gebcirde eines Gesteuerten, der nicht weiB, was ihn steuert,

und wir wissen nur, dafi alles, was auf die Gebarde des Ent- 2 scheidens folgt, auch anders verlaufen kdnnte ..." As a

result of this feeling of manipulation, the individual is

isolated not only from society but also from himself. He

has lost his true identity.

32 33

Alienation for Frisch is thus "der Reflex einer so und 3 so gearteten Gesellschaft auf das Ich," But although he associates it specifically with modern society in his essays, it appears in his works as a fundamental human problem which could occur in any social setting. Regardless of its politi- ■ cal or ideological bias, society imposes a preconceived image 4 on the individual which stifles the emergence of his true self.

"In gewissem Grad sind wir wirklich das Wesen, das die andern in unshineinsehen, Freunde wie Feinde," Frisch writes in his

Tagebuch. "Und umgekehrt! auch wir sind die Verfasser der andern . . . "^ Every individual develops a fixed perception of himself which prevents him from realizing his true identity.

What the individual perceives as the self is actually a role.

In an interview with Horst Bienek Frisch says:

[. . .] vielleicht muB man schon Schrift- steller sein, urn zu wissen, dafl jedes Ich, das sich ausspricht, eine Rolle ist. Immer. Auch im Leben. Auch in diesem Augenblick. Jeder Mensch . . . erfindet sich friiher oder spater eine Geschichte, die er, oft unter gewaltigen Opfern, ftir sein Leben halt, oder eine Reihe von Geschichten, die mit Namen und Daten zu belegen sind, so daft an ihrer Wirklichkeit, scheint es, nicht zu zweifeln ist. Trotzdem ist jede Ge­ schichte, meine ich- eine Erfindung und daher auswechselbar.

"Die Wvirde des Menschen, scheint mir, besteht in der Wahl"

(Tb 165), Frisch maintains. The role robs the individual of his freedom to choose by forcing his identity into a static mold. Unlike Brecht, Frisch is skeptical whether alienation can be overcome by changing the political or economic system.

As a result, he turns inward. The search for identity must be undertaken by the individual himself. This is an arduous 7 process which may be divided into three general stages. The first stage is one of self-awareness. The individual must realize that he is alienated from his true self and that his

life is a role. Having realized this fact, many of Frisch’s characters withdraw into themselves or into a world of fantasy, disdaining further involvement in everyday life. This reac­

tion, however, represents an irresponsible escapism which

brings the individual further from his goal. The search for

identity must be conducted within the confines of everyday

existence. It can be accomplished only by developing a posi­

tive attitude toward oneself and toward life. Self-acceptance,

that is "die Bejahung der menschlichen Existenz in ihrer g Bedingtheit durch die Umwelt," is therefore the second stage

in the individual’s search for self. Complete self-realization,

the final stage, can only be achieved in the private sector.

Only in a relationship based on mutual love can the individual

realize his true identity, for "die Liebe befreit . . . aus g jeglichem Bildnis" (Tb 31). Love frees the individual from

his role by granting him the freedom to choose. Instead of a

static existence, a life based on love becomes what for Frisch

it should be: "eine Allgegenwart alles Moglichen" (Tb 22).

In his Tagebuch he writes: 35

Es ist bemerkenswert, daft wir gerade von dem Menschen, den wir lieben, am mindesten aussagen konnen, wie er sei. Wir lieben ihn einfach. Eben darin besteht ja die Liebe, das Wunderbare an der Liebe, daft sie uns in der Schwebe des Lebendigen halt, in der Bereitschaft, einem Menschen zu folgen in alien seinen moglichen Entfal- tungen. . . . So wie das All, wie Gottes unerschopfliche Ger&umigkeit, schrankenlos , alles Moglichen voll, aller Geheimnisse voll, unfaftbar ist der Mensch, den man liebt— (31).

Through love the individual can overcome alienation and dis­ cover his true self, but Frisch is pessimistic regarding the

individual’s ability to attain this goal. Most of his drama­ tic characters barely reach the stage of self-acceptance;

some do not even achieve self-awareness, and none attains

complete self-realization.^

The "Gefiihl der Fremde" which Frisch describes in his

"Buchner-Rede" and which is reflected in his works has also

influenced his theoretical observations. "Sind denn wir, die

wir schreiben, nicht Streiter gerade im Bewufttsein, daft vieles

eine Klmodie ist?" (BR 52-53), he asks. Caught between ideo­

logical fronts the modern author feels powerless and insigni­

ficant. "Was aber uns verbindet," Frisch writes, "ist die

geistige Not des einzelnen angesichts solcher Fronten, das

Gefiihl unsrer Ohnmacht und die Frage, was tun" (BR 54).

Frisch states that he has "Zweifel an der Wirksamkeit eines

direkt-politischen Engagements der Literatur" (D 38). He

calls instead for "ein individuelles Engagement an die Wahr-

haftigkeit" (BR 55). Literature should present "Bilder, 36 nichts als Bilder und immer wieder Bilder, verzweifelte, un- verzweifelte, Bilder der Kreatur, solange sie lebt" (BR 55).

In so doing, it can undermine ideological abstractions. "Wir brauchen's nicht an die grofle Glocke zu hangen; aber das ist

ja unser Engagement! Was die Zeitungen, im Auftrag der

Macht, taglich in schlachtbereite Fronten bringen, wir zer-

setzen es mit jeder echten Darstellung einer Kreatur" (BP. 46).

Frisch confronts the problem of engagement more directly

in his speech "Der Autor und das Theater" of 1964. He begins

by asking "ob die heutige Welt denn auf dem Theater noch ab-

bildbar sei."^^ The Darmstadt "Dramaturgen-Konferenz" asked

this question of Brecht in 1955, whereupon the latter replied

"daft die heutige Welt auch auf dem Theater wiedev'gegeben werden 12 kann, aber nur wenn sie als veranderbar aufgefaftt wird."

Frisch takes issue first with the question. "Die Frage," he

writes, "ist bestiirzender als die Antwort, bestiirzend durch

die Unterstellung, daft die Welt einmal abbildbar gewesen sei.

Wann?" (A 75). In order to represent the world on the stage,

the author must be convinced of its scrutability. For Frisch,

however, the world is incomprehensible and "undurchschaubar"

(SpR 95). Even in the personal sphere he is doubtful whether

one can experience ultimate reality. Life is a role, and few

individuals ever discover their true identities. "Jede Ge-

schichte, die sich erzahlen ISftt, ist eine Fiktion," he says

in his interview with Horst Bienek. "Die Wahrheit ist keine

Geschichte, sie ist da oder nicht da, die Wahrheit ist ein

Rift durch den Wahn" (25). 37

Frisch also objects to the question on aesthetic grounds.

"Ich vermute, dai3 das Theater niemals die vorhandene Welt abgebildet hat," he maintains; "es hat sie immer verandert"

(A 7 5). The playwright must change reality in order to rep­ resent it. This is essential to the creative act. The result is poetry, Spiel: "Wie immer das Theater sich gibt, ist es

Kunst: Spiel als Antwort auf die Unabbildbarkeit der Welt.

Was abbildbar wird, ist Poesie . . . man muft verandern, urn darstellen zu kSnnen, und was sich darstellen laftt, ist immer schon Utopie" (A 76-77). Based on this insight, Frisch in­ terprets Brecht’s conviction that the world is "veranderbar" as "die iDbersetzung einer schlichten Kunst-Erfahrung in ein politisches Programm iiber den Kunst-Akt hinaus" (A 7 9).

Brecht's political engagement is a by-product of his artistic drives. "Der Wille, die Welt zu verandern, als eine Verlange- rung des kilnstlerischen Gestaltungsdranges?" (A 79), Frisch asks. This assessment of Brecht is, however, inaccurate. In contrast to Frisch, Brecht does believe that society can be analyzed and reformed. Frisch overlooks the fact that an analysis of socio-historical conditions constitutes the point 1 3 of departure and raison d ’etre of Brecht's theater.

Frisch thus concedes that engagement exists; it is "ei.n

Ergebnis der Produktion, sekundSr, aber nicht irrelevant"

(A 79). But he disagrees with Brecht as to the nature of the interplay between theater and society. The world for Frisch is implacable; theater cannot be employed as an instrument of direct political reform. To maintain, "der Schriftsteller mache Politik, indem er sich ausspricht zur Politik, ware eine

Selbsttduschung" (A 82), he insists. What the theater can do,

is influence the spectator's attitude toward reality; that is,

his role: "Unser Spiel, verstanden als Antwort auf die Unab-

bildbarkeit der Welt, andert diese Welt noch nicht, aber unser

Verhaltnis zu ihr . . . es ist eine Selbstbehauptung des

Menschen gegen die Geschichtlichkeit" (A 79). The theater

can cultivate a new awareness on the part of the spectator.

"Gabe es die Literatur nicht, liefe die Welt vielleicht nicht

anders," Frisch admits, "aber sie wiirde anders gesehen, nam-

lich so wie die jeweiligen Nutzniefier sie gesehen haben mochten

nicht in Frage gestellt" (A 87). The theater can alter the

spectator's perception of the world around him by influencing

his use of language. "Die Umwertung im Wort, die jede Litera­

tur um ihrer selbst willen leistet, namlich um der Lebendig-

keit des Wortes willen, ist schon ein Beitrag, eine produktive

Opposition. . . . der Umbau des Vokabulars erreicht alle, die

sich einer geliehenen Sprache bedienen, also auch die Politiker

(A 87-88). In order to insure the spectator's mental alert­

ness in the theater, Frisch employs various epic devices,

especially in his later plays. Many works consist of a series

of epic scenes, rather than acts; his characters often address

the audience directly, and he makes frequent use of an epic

narrator or chorus. Frisch's goal is to encourage greater

understanding and insight into the situation presented on the. 39 stage. Unlike Brecht, he does not employ epic devices system­ atically as a means of encouraging reflection on social or historical processes.

Frisch's use of epic devices to distance the audience

from the events on the stage is inconsistent with his theore­

tical assertions. For if, as he maintains, reality cannot be

represented on the stage; that is, if theater is Spiel, then

there is nc danger of empathy, and no steps need to be taken

by the dramatist to insure the spectator's mental alertness.

Frisch stresses "daft ich meine Arbeit nie durch Theorie habe

programmieren konnen" (D 21). He regards theory as "Versuch

einer Rechenschaft hinterher, aber nicht als Postulat" (D 21).

Hence, it is no surprise that his two most recent theoretical

works, his "Schillerpreis-Rede" (1965) and Dramaturgisches.

Ein Briefwechsel mit Walter Hollerer (1969), contain some

important modifications of previous theories. Thus, although

he reasserts in Dramaturgisches that "die einzige Realitat

auf der Biihne besteht darin, daft auf der Biihne gespielt wird"

(D 16), Frisch now also acknowledges a long tradition of thea- 14 ter which purports to "imitate" life on the stage. He

associates this "Imitier-Theater" (D 17) with classical western

dramaturgy, which he terms a "Dramaturgie der Fiigung" (D 8).

The "Dramaturgie der Fiigung" (whose principles still influence

much of modern drama) portrays each scene as definitive, thus

imitating the definitiveness of life: "Zwar ist alles 'nur'

gespielt, aber wie unnatiirlich jeder Dialog auch sei, durch 40

Einlaufigkeit der Szene wird sie geschichtlich, ich meine: es unterlSuft Imitation von Leben, das ja dadurch gekennzeich- net ist, daii in diesem Moment immer nur eine einzige von alien

Moglichkeiten sich realisiert . . ." (D 16). The "Imitier-

Theater," whose existence he had previously disputed, now becomes the object of Frisch’s criticism. It is, he says,

"ein Selbstmifiverstandnis des Theaters" (D17). Deliberately cultivated by traditional directing and acting techniques, it is "Theater, das den Zuschauer in die Position des Voyeurs versetzt und in dieser Position betrugt" (D 17). The Imitier-

Theater" induces the spectator to forget "daB da vorne ja gespielt wird" (D 17), thus discouraging reflection. "Um kein Imitier-Theater zu machen," Frisch states in retrospect,

"versuchte ich mich friiher in der Allegorie, dann in der Mori- tat, dann in der Travestie, Don Juan als Kostiim-Zitat, um

Theater von vornherein als Theater erscheinen zu lassen; spater ausschlieBlich in der Parabel" (D 18). None of these forms, however, succeeded in completely alienating the spec­ tator. Frisch therefore decides to confront the problem more directly. It is, he now asserts, "Sache der Stuckeschreiber

. . . ein Imitier-Theater schon dramaturgisch auszuschlieBen"

(D 18).

The "Dramaturgie der Fiigung," from which the "Imitier-

Theater" stems, is based on causality. It "lMBt als glaub-

wiirdig nur zu, was im Sinn der Kausalitat zwingend ist" (D 9),

Frisch writes. Instead of encouraging a critical attitude on the part of the spectators, the "Dramaturgie der Fiigung" implies Sinn; "Jeder Verlauf auf der Buhne, der eben dadurch, daJS er stattfindet, alle andern Verlaufe ausschlieftt, miindet in die Unterstellung eines Sinns, der ihm nicht zukommt; es entsteht der Eindruck von Zwangslaufigkeit, von Schicksal, von Fiigung. Das Gespielte hat immer einen Hang zum Sinn, den das Gelebte nicht hat" (D 9). The traditional dramaturgy implies a meaning which for Frisch does not exist. Reality, he says in his "Schillerpreis-Rede," is "eine Summe von Zu- fallen" devoid of Sinn: "Wir erleben ihn nirgends, und was wir erleben, ist das Gegenteil: Es geschieht etwas, und etwas anderes, was ebenso moglich ware, geschieht nicht . . ." (D 98).

The "Dramaturgie der Fiigung," however, "will und kann den

Zufall nicht plausibel machen" (D 9). Frisch therefore searches

for "eine Dramaturgie des Unglaubens" (SpR 99) which would

incorporate the element of chance and thus encourage a more

critical attitude on the part of the spectator toward reality.

Such a dramaturgy would be based not on causality but on

Spiel; Frisch calls it "eine Dramatik der Permutation" (SpR 99.).

Rather than present the fable as causally necessary and defini­

tive, the "Dramatik der Permutation" shows it to be just one

of many possibilities. "Varianten eines Vorgangs zeigen mehr

als der Vorgang in seiner definitiven Version, AuffScherung

der Moglichkeiten, wie ein und dieselbe Figur sich verhalten

kann" (D 16). Frisch hopes that this "Variantentheater" (D 20)

will bring about a continuous destruction of illusion and 42 thereby encourage the audience to reflect on the alternatives presented: "[. . .] das Varianten-Spiel zielt auf Reflexion, insofern schon auf Erschtitterung, aber das ware Erschiltterung unsrer Glaubigkeit durch Reflexion" (D 32)."^

The "Varianten-Spiel" is not only Frisch's formula for overcoming the empathy theater. It is the dramaturgical re­ sponse to a theme which pervades his whole work: the problem of alienation and the search for identity. The "Varianten-

Spiel" presents not one role, but a variety of role possibili­

ties. It thus encourages the spectator to scrutinize his own

role and undertake the search for his true self. It is the

formal embodiment of Frisch's utopian vision of life: "eine

Allgegenwart alles Moglichen" (Tb 22).

II Frisch's Plays: Alienation and the Quest for Identity. The Hero as Actor

The most important themes of Frisch's work are already

present in his first play, Santa Cruz (1944). The Rittmeister

is living in a state of alienation. This is clearly demon­

strated in the first act, where he dismisses a well-liked 16 stable boy for a minor offense. "Ordnung mufi sein" (1, 18),

he states rigidly. The Rittmeister has lost touch with his

true self; his life has become a mechanical process governed

by his sense of duty and order. A snow storm which threatens

to isolate the castle from the outside world symbolizes his 17 alienation from life. "Es schneit eine Stille ringsum, die

immer hoher wird. . . . Stille, nichts als Stille und Schnee" 43

(1, 20), says his servant. The Rittmeister longs to escape from this alienated existence and realize his true identity.

He sees this identity personified in the adventurer Pelegrin, whom he encountered seventeen years ago in Santa Cruz. Elvira, too, has memories of Pelegrin, her former lover, but like her husband she feels she must suppress the past, "der Treue zuliebe"

(1, 75). "Wenn ich am Feierabend neben dir sitze . . . was

suchen wir denn anderes als Ihn, der unser anderes, vielleicht

unser wirklicheres Leben fiihrt," the Rittmeister asks his

wife, "das Leben, das ich heute selber fiihren wiirde, hatte ich

damals das fremde Schiff bestiegen, das Meer erwahlt und nicht

das Land, das Ungeheure, nicht das Sichere" (1, 24).

A dramatic confrontation between past and present takes

place for both the Rittmeister and Elvira with the unexpected

arrival of Pelegrin at the castle. As the flustered Elvira

retreats to her chambers and her dreams, the Rittmeister, un­

able any longer to suppress "meine Sehnsucht, die ich Jahre

lang totete, totete und mit Schweigen begrub" (1, 44), sets

out in the middle of the night for Santa Cruz. The Rittmeister’s

attempt to realize his "wirklicheres Leben" in this manner,

however, represents a foolhardy flight from the responsibili­

ties of everyday life. "Das wirkliche Leben muB sich im Dasein 18 selbst erkennen und erkSmpfen," writes Monika Wintsch-Spiess.

Self-realization can only be accomplished in the private sec­

tor, in a personal relationship based on mutual love and trust.

But before this can be accomplished, the individual must first 44 accept himself. This is what the Rittmeister and Elvira have been unable to do. For self-acceptance involves an acceptance not only of the present, but also of the past. "Wir leben auf einem laufenden Band . . . Wir sind das Damals, auch wenn wir es verwerfen, nicht minder als das Heute-," Frisch writes in his Tagebuch (21). In the name of "Treue" the Rittmeister and

Elvira have suppressed the past and the longings associated with it. "Du hast deine Sehnsucht begraben . . . Jahre lang, damit sie mich nicht erschreckte," says Elvira, "und ich habe mich meiner Traume geschamt, Jahre lang, weil ich wuftte, sie wiirden dich erschrecken" (1, 75). Their relationship is based not on mutual trust, but on deception. Their lives are roles:

"Keines wollte des andere enttauschen . . . das ist die kleine

Komodie, die wir so lange, so lange gespielt haben: bis Pelegrin gekommen ist" (1, 75). The encounter with Pelegrin teaches them to accept the past as a part of life. "Ich verwiinsche

nichts, was ich erlebt habe, und nichts, was ich erlebt habe, wiinsche ich noch einmal zuriick" (1, 76), the Rittmeister quotes

Pelegrin as saying. The acceptance of the past as an integral

part of the present, and thus of themselves, is for the Ritt­

meister and Elvira the first step toward self-realization in

a relationship based on trust and love. "Wir diirfen uns lieben,

wir alle," Elvira now understands, "jetzt kann ich es sehen:

das Leben ist anders, die Liebe ist groBer, die Treue ist

tiefer, sie mufi unsere TrSume nicht fiirchten, wir miissen die

Sehnsucht nicht tdten . . ." (1, 7 5). The confrontation between past and present is reflected in the structure of the play. Whereas acts I, III, and V occur in the present, the second and fourth acts are reenact­ ments of the events in Santa Cruz seventeen years ago as re­ membered by the Rittmeister and Elvira. The poet Pedro func­ tions as an epic narrator who bridges the gap between present and past. Just as the narrator in Thorton Wilder’s Our Town, 19 he is "eine Verbildlichung der dichterischen Imagination."

At the same time, this epic tendency distances the audience from the highly romantic subject matter of the work.

Frisch’s second play, Nun singen sie wieder (1945), is the author's response to the second world war. For Frisch, the rise of National Socialism in Germany resulted from a col­ lapse of traditional humanistic values. These values are represented in the play by the Oberlehrer, who betrayed his ideals for fear of the Nazis. For Herbert the Oberlehrer's weakness proves that it was "ein Schwindel, was man uns lehrte"

"Der Geist gab nach, wir klopften daran, und es war hohl"

(1, 127). Herbert is searching for the absolute. Having

lost confidence in humanistic ideals, he now hopes to encounter 20 it through brute force and destruction. Instead, he dis­

covers "die Leere, das Nichts" (1, 126). His search ends in

nihilism: "Wir griffen zur Macht, zur letzten Gewalt, damit

der Geist uns begegne, der wirkliche; aber der Spotter hat

recht, es gibt keinen wirklichen Geist, und wir haben die

Welt in der Tasche, ob wir sie brauchen oder nicht, ich sehe 46 keine Grenze unsrer Macht--das ist die Verzweiflung" (1, 83).

Herbert's life has become a mechanical role geared to destruc­ tion. He is isolated from himself and from others. By con­ trast, Karl rebels against his role. He realizes that the

Oberlehrer's failure resulted from human weakness and fear.

Karl attempts to discover his true self and reestablish contact with other individuals. He understands that each individual must develop an ethical consciousness and assume responsibility for his own actions. "Es gibt das nicht, es gibt keine Aus-

flucht in den Gehorsam," he tells the Oberlehrer, "auch wenn man den Gehorsam zu seiner letzten Tugend macht, er befreit

uns nicht von der Verantwortung. . . . Man kann die Last der

personlichen Freiheit nicht abtreten . . ." (1, 102). Karl

deserts his position rather than execute the priest. His

action is determined by a feeling of responsibility toward

his fellow man; that is, by love. "Die Liebe ist schon . . .

die Liebe vor allem," says the priest. "Sie allein weift, daft

sie umsonst ist, und sie allein verzweifelt nicht" (1, 132).

This is the message which the shades attempt to communicate

to the living at the end of the play. But their pleas fall

on deaf ears. The living vow to avenge the dead and to rebuild

everything "so wie es war" (1, 132). The message of love

remains a utopian solution. "Sie werden es horen, einst, wenn

sie gestorben sind" (1, 132), says the priest.

Just as Frisch saw love as the key to self-realization

in Santa Cruz, he now proposes it in response to a larger 4? political problem. It is questionable, however, whether the author's introspective attitude is compatible with the enor­ mous political and moral issues at hand. As a response to the disaster of World War II Frisch's appeal for love seems

quaintly naive, if not trivial. The discrepancy between

introspection and political involvement detracts from the 21 effectiveness of the work.

Als der Krieg zu Ende war (1947/48) is also set in the

second world war. In his notes to the play, Frisch states

that the work belongs "in die Gattung der historischen Stiicke"

(1, 351); but there is no genuine confrontation with the his­

torical situation. As in the preceding play, the author

focuses his attention on the individual. The Russian occupa­

tion of Berlin merely serves as a backdrop for Frisch's first

treatment of the "Bildnis" theme, which he later dealt with

more thoroughly in Andorra.

"Jedes Volk hat eine Fahne und ein Gesicht," Agnes says

ironically. She lists the most common prejudices: "Der Jude

hat eine krumme Nase und dicke Lippen, vom Charakter zu schwei-

gen. Der Englander ist hager und sportlich, solang das Spiel

zu seinen Gunsten steht. Der Spanier ist stolz, der Italiener

hat eine beneidenswerte Stimme, aber er ist faul und oberflach-

lich, der Deutsche ist treu und tief. Und der Franzose hat

Eprit, aber das ist auch alles . . ." (1, 243). Like her

countrymen, Agnes has formed an image of the Russian officer

occupying her house. She attempts to overcome this stereotype 1+8 by appealing to Stephan not as a Russian officer, but as a human being. "Es ist an mir, den Anfang zu machen mit dem

Vertrauen" (1, 233), she tells him, not realizing that he

cannot understand her. It is precisely this lack of verbal

communication, however, which allows for contact on a deener

level. "Sprache als Gefaft des Vorurteils!" Frisch writes in

the Nachtrag to the prose sketch of the play. Because they

cannot understand each other, he continues, "sind sie gezwun-

gen, einander anzusehen, und sie ist imstanae, wirklich zu

sehen, den einzelnen Menschen zu sehen, wirklich zu werden,

ein Mensch zu sein gegen eine Welt, die auf Schablonen ver-

hext ist . . ." (Tb 220). In the love which stems from this

encounter the last vestiges of prejudice dissolve. Agnes no

longer sees Stepan the Russian, but Stepan the man: "Siehst

du, auch ich weift nicht, wer du bist. Nur da.f wir einander

lieben. Und dann bist du einfach da: Du bist alles, was ich

mir denken kann . . ." (1, 250). In his Tagebuch Frisch sum­

marizes the theme of the play: "Oberwindung des Vorurteils;

die einzig mogliche Oberwindung in der Liebe, die sich kein

Bildnis macht" (220).

Formally, Als der Krieg zu Ende war has been described

2 2 as Frisch’s "konventionellstes Drama." But the play does

contain an epic element. On several occasions the dramatic

action is interrupted as Agnes speaks directly to the audience.

Referring to herself in the third person, she assumes "die 23 Rolle eines Chores" and describes events in the past and in 4 9 the future. In this way the audience becomes privy to infor­ mation which would otherwise lie beyond the scope of the dramatic action. As in Santa Cruz, this epic device also 24 distances the audience from the somewhat melodramatic plot.

The epic tendencies present in the plays discussed thus far are fully developed in Die Chinesische Mauer (1946; 1955;

197 2) . ^ "In der Tat," writes Manfred Durzak, "diirfte kein anderes Stuck Frisch in seiner Dramaturgie so sehr auf die 2 6 Nahe Brechts verweisen wie Die Chinesische Mauer." The

traditional division into acts is replaced by a prologue and

twenty-three loosely connected scenes, and the dramatic

action is continuously interrupted in order to encourage

reflection. Durzak describes the play as an "in dramatische 27 Form gebrachter Reflexionsvorgang." The action takes place

on two levels. The first is that of the Chinese court of

Tsin Sche Hwang Ti. The emperor has just defeated "die hiin-

dischen Barbaren der Steppe" (1, 16 3) and attempts to con­

solidate his power by building the Great Wall. The second

level is that of the masks. All well-known historical and

literary personages, the masks belong "zu den Figuren, die

unser Hirn bevolkern" (1, 142). They do not participate in

the action of the Chinese court. Only Der Heutige, who also

acts as a Spielleiter, participates on both levels. The

second level constitutes a play-within-a-play, which also

functions as a Verfremdungseffekt. The masks interrupt the

action of the first level and encourage reflection on the 50 events taking place. This is Frisch's first use of theater- within-the-theater as a formal device.

Just as Nun singen sie wieder was Frisch's response to the second world war, Die Chinesische Mauer is his reply to the atom bomb. "Die Sintflut ist herstellbar. . . . Wir stehen vor der Wahl, ob es eine Menschheit geben soli oder nicht"

(1, 143), says Der Heutige. This fact necessitates a reexam­

ination of traditional political attitudes. These traditional attitudes are represented by the masks. The most prominent

of them— Napoleon, Philipp II of Spain, Brutus, Pontius Pilate

— incorporate "das alte Denken, das auf Macht, Despotie, Ge-

2 8 wait und Krieg aufgerichtet ist." Der Heutige tries to

convince them— and Tsin Sche Hwang Ti— that these attitudes

are incompatible with the atomic age. He tells Napoleon:

"Wir konnen uns das Abenteuer der Alleinherrschaft nicht mehr

leisten . . . das Risiko ist zu groB. . . . Eine einzige

Laune von Ihm, der heutzutag auf einem Thron sitzt, ein Ner-

venzusammenbruch, eine Neurose, eine Stichflamme seines GroBen-

wahns, eine Ungeduld wegen schlechter Verdauung: Und alles

ist hin" (1, 143). But he is unable to alter their--that is,

our— traditional modes of thinking. "Es ist gerade die Kluft

zwischen der unfaBbaren atomaren Wende und dem Beharrungsver-

mdgen des Denkens, die das Stuck behandelt," writes Hellmuth 29 Karasek. Frisch is pessimistic whether this gap will ever

be bridged. This is clearly demonstrated by the events on

the first level of action. Tsin Sche Hwang Ti is deposed in 51 a coup masterminded by the prince, who, as it happens, is as much a tyrant as his predecessor. "Wir spielen nicht weiter!" says Der Heutige. "Weil die ganze Farce soeben von vorne beginnt . . (1, 206). Thus, although Frisch adopted many of Brecht's formal innovations, their respective views of history are clearly at odds. For Frisch, history is sense­ less repetition, and despite his attempts to encourage reflec­ tion on the part of the spectator, he is doubtful whether political change is possible. As in the preceding plays, self-realization can only be achieved in the private sector.

"Auch Euch, mein junger Mann, verbleiben noch immer die Kon- tinente der eigenen Seele, das Abenteuer der Wahrhaftigkeit,"

Columbus tells Don Juan. "Nie sah ich andere Raume der

Hoffnung" (1, 178). In the masks of Romeo and Juliette, who

close the play, Frisch again indicates the personal love relationship as the only path to fulfillment.

-— In Graf Oderland (1951; 1956 ; 1961) Frisch returns to

his central theme: the problem of alienation and the search 30 for identity. Compared with the complexities of Die Chine­

sische Mauer, the form of the play is relatively simple: it 31 is "ein epischer Bilderbogen" consisting of twelve titled

scenes. Like the Rittmeister in Santa Cruz, the Staatsanwalt

is alienated from life. His true self has been suffocated by 32 duty and orderly routine. "Ich kenne eure Ordnung," he

tells Elsa and Doktor Hahn. "Ich bin in Oderland geboren.

Wo der Mensch nicht hingehort, wo er nie gedeiht. . . . Wo 52 man die Schopfung bekSmpfen muJ2>, damit man nicht erfriert und verhungert. . . . Nichts ist Geschenk, alles bleibt Lohn.

Und alles ist Pflicht. Und Oberwindung ist das Hochste, was man sich denken kann . . . Oberwindung und Verzicht" Cl, 309).

In contrast to his first play, however, Frisch also describes the socio-political aspects of alienation in greater detail.

Mario, the clairvoyant, summarizes the problem succinctly as

"Zivilisation" (1, 291). The Innenminister is more specific:

Wir haben alles getan, urn Ruhe und Ord- nung sicherzustellen. . . . wir haben den geheimen Sicherungsdienst, wir iiberwachen unsere Burger von der Wiege bis zum Grab . . . ich erinnere bloft an das Notrecht, das uns endlich erlaubt, auch den inlan- dischen Briefverkehr zu iiberwachen, und hundert andere Mafinahmen der Vorsicht . . . wir haben die monatliche Meldepflicht . . . wir haben den sogenannten Arbeitsstempel . . . wir haben die Winterhilfe, die Alters- versicherung, lauter Wohlfahrt, die uns die Ziigel in die Hand gibt . . . lauter Ein- richtungen, die Millionen kosten! (1, 326).

Through internal security measures and welfare the modern state controls every aspect of human existence. The indi­ vidual has become insignificant; every opportunity for self- expression is stifled. This is clearly demonstrated in the senseless murder committed by the bank teller. It is a spon­ taneous revolt against his regimented life. Society for him has become a prison. "Sie kdnnen sich nicht vorstellen,

Doktor, wie vertraut mir dieser Anblick ist," he tells his attorney from his prison cell. "Immer diese sieben StSbe, dahinter die Welt, so war es auch hinter dem Schalter, als

ich noch arbeitete, als ich noch frei war . . ." (1, 273). Like the Rittmeister, the Staatsanwalt attempts to escape from this "Irrenhaus der Ordnung" (1, 309). His goal, Santorin, contrasts vividly with the "Dsc-hungel von Grenzen und Gesetzen"

(1, 309) which he hopes to flee. He describes it as "ein erloschener Krater im Meer . . . Und hoch iiber der rauschen- den Brandung: Die Stadt . . , Eine Stadt wie aus Kreide, so weift, so grell, emporgetiirnvt in den Wind und ins Licht, einsam und frei, trotzig, heiter und kiihn, emporgeturmt in einen

Himmel ohne Dunst, ohne Dammerung, ohne Hoffnung auf Jenseits

. . ." (1, 308). The Staatsanwalt is searching for a personal utopia. Just as the Rittmeister hoped to achieve self-reali­ zation by sailing to Hawaii, the Staatsanwalt hopes to realize his true identity in Santorin. Neither succeeds in attaining his goal. But whereas the Rittmeister1s excursion ended innocuously in the raging blizzard, the Staatsanwalt becomes embroiled against his will in a political revolt. Suffering from amnesia (1, 280-281), he identifies with the legendary figure of Graf Oderland suggested to him first by his maid

Hilde and then by Inge. With the murder of the three hunters, his personal search for identity acquires social implications.

He becomes a criminal and can no longer return to his middle class existence. He attempts to purchase a yacht in order to

flee to Santorin. When this fails, he is forced to struggle 3 3 against the state for his own survival. In order to save

himself, he seizes power. "Ich ergebe mich nicht," he tells

Inge. "Man ISBt mir keine Wahl. Ich habe keinen andern Ausweg mehr, Kind, als die Macht zu ergreifen-" (1, 320). His

coup, however, does not lead to freedom. As the new head of

state, the Staatsanwalt is as much a part of the establishment

as he ever was. Moreover, there are no signs that the new

regime is an improvement over that which preceded it. As in

Die Chinesische Mauer, Frisch is doubtful whether political

change is possible; history again appears as senseless repeti­

tion. Awakening from his trance, the Staatsanwalt realizes

his predicament. "Ich will nicht die Macht!" he protests to

the president. "Ich mochte leben!" (1, 342). The life he is

seeking, however, can only be fulfilled in the private sector.

But for the Staatsanwalt there is no prospect of self-reali­

zation in a relationship based on mutual love. His relation­

ship to his wife is cold and empty. Indeed, it is an indica­

tion of Frisch's increasingly skeptical outlook that the love

theme is entirely absent from the play. For the first time,

•Frisch offers no alternative to alienation.

Unlike the Rittmeister and the Staatsanwalt, Gottlieb

Biedermann (Biedermann und die Brandstifter, 1957/58) has not

even attained the first stage in the search for identity:

self-awareness. He does not realize that he is alienated from

life and that his behavior is a role. Biedermann's alienation

is apparent in the discrepancy between his words and his 34 actions. He insists that he is "kein Unmensch" (2, 85) and

often speaks.of "Menschlichkeit," "BrUderlichkeit" (2, 127),

"Vertrauen" (2, 114), and "Humor" (2, 121). These words, 55 however, are clearly inconsistent with his treatment of his employee, Johann Knechtling. "Herr Knechtling soli mich gefalligst in Ruh lassen, Herrgott nochmal," he rages, "oder er soil einen Anwalt nehmen. . . . Beteiligung an seiner

Erfindung. Soli er sich unter den Gasherd legen oder einen

Anwalt nehmen--bitte!— wenn Herr Knechtling es sich leisten

kann, einen Prozefi zu verlieren oder zu gewinnen" (2, 92).

When Knechtling does in fact commit suicide, Biedermann re­

fuses to see his widow, "weil ich . . . keine Zeit habe . . .

urn mich mit Toten zu befassen" (2, 126). The arsenists flat­

ter Biedermann's perception of himself as a humane individual.

In order not to betray this wholesome'image and appear to be

"ein Unmensch," Biedermann is acquiescent. "Sie mussen jetzt

nicht denken, Herr Schmitz, daft ich ein Unmensch sei-," he

says with devastating irony. "VJenn Sie ein Unmensch waren,

Herr Biedermann, dann wiirden Sie mir heute nicht kein Obdach

geben, das ist mal klar," Schmitz allows. "Nicht wahr?"

replies Biedermann (2, 93). "Als Zeichen des Vertrauens"

(2, 142), he finally gives them the matches they need to set

his house on fire.

The chorus accuses Biedermann of not reflecting on what

he sees. "Klug ist und Herr iiber manche Gefahr,/Wenn er

bedenkt, was er sieht,/Der Mensch" (2, 111). Biedermann’s

behavior is governed not by reflection, but by his role. He

cannot act responsibly until he removes his mask and reflects

on his true self. This, however, he shows no signs of doing. 56

Instead, he turns to the audience and attempts to justify his behavior: "Es kommt eben nicht so, meine Herren, wie Sie meinen--sondern langsam und plotzlich . . . Verdacht! Das hatte ich sofort, meine Herren, Verdacht hat man immer--aber

Hand aufs Herz, meine Herren: Was hatten Sie denn getan,

Herrgottnochmal, an meiner Stelle? Und wann?" (2, 129).

Together with the chorus, direct address of the audience func­ tions as a Verfremdungseffekt which encourages reflection on the part of the spectators. Regarding Frisch's use of these devices, Manfred Durzak speaks of "eine erstaunliche Annahe- rung an Absichten Brechts . . . In keinem andern Stuck, so lafit sich sagen, hat Frisch das Muster Brechts so genau er— 3 5 fullt." But unlike Brecht, Frisch is skeptical whether reflection will lead to change. "Sinnlos ist viel, und nichts/

Sinnloser als diese Geschichte," the chorus concludes. "Die namlich, einmal entfacht,/Totete viele, ach, aber nicht alle/

Und anderte gar nichts" (2, 144). Moreover, as in Graf Qderland, there is no reference to the possibility of self-realization

through love. Because he does not know himself, Biedermann

can have no significant relationship to others. His refusal

to examine self results not only in isolation, but finally in 3 6 his own destruction as well.

Die groBe Wut des Philipp Hotz (1957/58) is a lighthearted

interlude in Frisch's dramatic work. The action takes place

on an elevated podium: "eine Biihne auf der Biihne" (2, 421),

Frisch writes in the notes to the play. Philipp frequently 57 steps off the podium and confers directly with the spectators.

By means of this epic device, Frisch hopes to avoid "die'Ge- fahr von Naturalismen" (2, 421) and insure the spectator’s mental alertness. "Dieser Wechsel von Szene und Conference," he writes, "muB selbstverstMndlich-augenfSllig sein" (2, 421).

Philipp Hotz is a caricature of the alienated intellec­ tual. Like the Rittmeister and the Staatsanwalt, he is alien­ ated from his true self. Philipp believes that because he is

"ein gebildeter Mensch" (2, 150) his wife Dorli does not take him seriously. His "groBe Wut" is an attempt to impress her by proving that he is capable of spontaneous and decisive acts. "Ich habe gesagt: Eher zertriimmere ich unsere ganze

Wohnung!--aber man nimmt mich ja nicht ernst, man lachelt, man geht nachhause Arm in Arm mit mir, man traut es mir nicht zu, bloB weil ich ein gebildeter Mensch bin . . . Man soil mich kennenlernen" (2, 150). His anger, however, is anything but spontaneous. As a response to Dorli’s affair with Wilfrid, it follows exactly one year after the fact. "Und heute end- lich zeigt er seine Wut," says Dorli in disbelief. "So intro- vertiert ist er!" (2, 166). His rampage itself is carefully

staged. Incapable of destroying the apartment alone, he hires movers to do it for him. Moreover, he insists that they abide

by the laws governing "Giltertrennung" (2, 169): they are to

leave "Frauengut" (2, 15 5) untouched. Philipp's "groBe Wut"

is not genuine. It is a role. "Nur jetzt nicht die Wut ver-

lieren!" (2, 164) he must constantly remind himself. Philipp cannot accept himself. He therefore assumes that Dorli cannot accept him either. But Dorli is not prejudiced by the fact that he is "ein gebildeter Mensch." She does not form a

"Bildnis," but accepts him as he is. Her attitude is based on love. "Dabei bin ich so glticklich in unsrer Ehe I" (2, 167), she insists. Philipp cannot accept this love until he has learned to accept himself. He seems to realize this at the end. After he is rejected by the Foreign Legion, he admits that his role was "eine bare Idiotie" (2, 181). This admis­ sion is the first step toward self-acceptance and finally self-realization in a relationship based on love.

In Andorra (1961) Frisch returns to a serious treatment of the themes of alienation and identity. The play consists of twelve scenes. The action is interrupted seven times as each of the Andorrans steps before the podium and attempts in retrospect to justify his role in Andri's death. These scenes distance the spectator from the action and encourage reflec­ tion. They were included, Frisch writes in the notes to the play, "urn die Handlung, die eben auf der Biihne vor sich geht, in die Ferne zu riicken und dem Zuschauer zu helfen, daft er sie von ihrem Ende her, also als Ganzes, beurteilen kann ..."

(2, 431).

"Andri ist . . . ein Mensch auf der Suche nach sich selbst, 37 writes Adelheid Weise. By contrast, the Andorrans have not even attained the stage of self-awareness. They are unaware that they are alienated from life. As in Biedermann, this alienation is apparent in the discrepancy between words and deeds. The Andorrans refer to their country as "ein frommes

Land" (2, 190), "ein Hort des Friedens und der Freiheit und

der Menschenrechte" (2, 236), and to themselves as "ein Volk

ohne Schuld" (2, 2 38). This rhetoric is contradicted by

their treatment of Andri. Their anti-Semitism imposes a pre­

conceived image upon him which prevents him from realizing

his true self. He is accused of being greedy, cowardly, and

insensitive. "So'n Jud denkt alleweil nur ans Geld" (2, 198)

Peider insists. Later Andri asks: "Wieso bin ich feig?"

"Weil du Jud bist" (2, 199), is the response. Andri hopes to

realize his potential as an individual and assume a responsi­

ble place in society by becoming a carpenter. But because he

is thought to be a Jew, the master will not acknowledge his

work. "Tischler werden ist nicht einfach, wenn's einer nicht

im Blut hat," he insists. "Nicht einfach. Woher sollst du's

im Blut haben" (2, 207).

Andri rebels against the role being forced upon him by

society. "Ich bin nicht anders. Ich will nicht anders sein"

(2 , 2 31), he protests. The priest, however, cautions him

that it is foolish to attempt to escape oneself. "Wir mtissen

uns selbst annehmen, und das ist es, Andri, was du nicht tust

(2, 2 32). Andri takes the priest's advice, but the identity

which he accepts is not his own, but that created by society.

"Seit ich hore, hat man mir gesagt, ich sei anders, und ich

habe geachtet darauf, ob es so ist, wie sie sagen. Und es 60 ist so, Hochwurden: Ich bin anders . . . Hochwurden haben gesagt, man muft das annehmen, und ich hab's angenommen. Jetzt ist es an Euch, Hochwurden, euren Jud anzunehmen" (2, 251-252).

What he previously rejected as an artificial role, Andri now accepts as his true identity. Indeed, he is "recognized" as a Jew by the "Judenschauer." Thus, more emphatically than in any other play, Frisch denies that the individual can discover his true identity. The work is a testimony to his increasing pessimism. Even the possibility of self-realization through

love has become problematic. "Ich liebe einen einzigen Men-

schen, und das ist genug" (2, 224), Andri tells Barblin. But

this relationship cannot lead to fulfillment. It is a func­

tion of Andri's role and as such is based on a lie. Andri

and Barblin are actually brother and sister, and the relation­

ship is therefore incestuous. Andri can only discover his

"true" self by identifying with the fate of the Jewish people.

"Tausende und Hunderttausende sind gestorben am Pfahl, ihr

Schicksal ist mein Schicksal" (2, 259), he tells his father.

For Andri, the path to self-realization is not love, but death.

Andri has become a prisoner of his role. He has lost

the freedom to choose. Almost masochistically he accepts his

death as inevitable, as fate. Indeed, the play has been com- 3 8 pared to the "Schicksalsdrama" of the nineteenth century.

Despite the epic tendencies (the division into twelve scenes

rather than acts; the podium scenes), the structure is con­

ventional, and the causually motivated action moves inevitably 61 toward its conclusion. Moreover, it is questionable whether the podium scenes succeed in preventing empathy on the part of the spectators. It was perhaps due to the conventional aspects of this work that Frisch rejected the "Dramaturgie der Fiigung" shortly thereafter, calling instead for a new form which would incorporate the element of chance. The

"Variantentheater" which he developed is based on Spiel. It presents a given role not as fate, but as one of many possible variations. "Eine Fabel, so meine ich, kann niemals bedeuten, daft mit den gleichen Figuren in der gleichen Umwelt nicht auch eine ganz andere Fabel hatte entstehen kdnnen, eine andere

Partie als gerade diese, die Geschichte geworden ist, Biografie

oder Weltgeschichte" (D 9). The "Variantentheater" is thus 3 9 the "konsequente Anwendung des Bildnisverbots."

Frisch attempts to convert this theory into practice in

his most recent play, Biografie (1967). He stresses that the

work is a purely theatrical event based on Spiel. "Das Stiick

spielt auf der Biihne," he declares in the notes to the play.

"Der Zuschauer sollte nicht dariiber getauscht werden, daft er

eine drtlichkeit sieht, die mit sich selbst identisch ist:

die Biihne. Es wird gespielt, was ja nur im Spiel iiberhaupt

moglich ist: wie es anders hatte verlaufen kdnnen in einem

Leben" (2, HSU). The hero of the play, Kiirmann, refuses to

accept his biography as fate. This would imply a meaning

which he does not believe exists. "Ich weigere mich zu

glauben, daft unsere Biografie, meine oder irgendeine, nicht 62 anders aussehen konnte. Vollkommen anders. Ich brauche mich nur ein einziges Mai anders zu verhalten-" (2, 310). Accord­ ingly, Kurmann is given the opportunity to repeat certain scenes from his life and thereby to alter his biography. Each new variation is introduced by the "Registrator," who thus functions as a Spielleiter. But he is also the theatrical representation of "Selbst-Reflexion" (D 27). "Er spricht aus,"

Frisch writes, "was Kurmann selber weifi oder wissen konnte" *+0 (2, 434). The play is "ein dramatischer innerer Monolog" undertaken by the hero.

Kurmann cannot change his intelligence ("Die ist gegeben"

(2, 311)) or influence the decisions of others, who are also free to choose. "Was Sie wahlen konnen," the registrar tells him, "ist Ihr eigenes Verhalten" (2, 298). In his revised biography Kurmann hopes to avoid his unhappy marriage to

Antoinette. As in Andorra, the love relationship itself has become problematic. "Biografie ohne Antoinette" (2, 306) is

Kurmann's goal. But despite his repeated attempts, he is un­

able to alter his behavior, and the relationship takes place,

"Sie haben gesagt: Wenn Sie noch einmal anfangen kbnnten in

Ihrem Leben, dann wviftten Sie genau, was Sie anders machen

wiirden-" the registrar reminds him. "Warum machen Sie dann

immer dasselbe!" (2, 309). Kilrmann's life has become a fetatic

role from which he is unable to escape. "Sie verhalten sich

nicht zur Gegenwart, sondern zu einer Erinnerung," the

registrar maintains. "Das ist es. Sie meinen die Zukunft schon zu kennen durch Ihre Erfahrung. Drum wird es jedesmal dieselbe Geschichte" (2, 300). Based on his past experiences,

Ktirmann has formed a "Bildnis" of life. He has closed the door to change and thus to self-realization. Like Andri, he has become a prisoner of his role. Despite Frisch's attempts to develop a dramatic form based on Spiel, this play is as fatal­ istic as its predecessor. Indeed, it is even more pessimistic.

For whereas Andri is prevented from realizing his true identity

by society, Kiirmann is prevented by himself. Although there

are no external restrictions on his behavior, he is still un­

able to change. By contrast, Antoinette changes her biography

without hesitation. But this final scene is unconvincing. It

has the effect of a deus ex machina, a last minute attempt to 41 prove a point which has already been lost. The author is

well aware of the play's shortcomings. "Das wird ja genau,

was ich nicht wahrhaben will," he complains, "ein Schicksals-

lauf!" (D 28). Due to the fatalistic undercurrents of the

play, moreover, the variations do not function as a Verfrem-

dungseffekt, as Frisch had hoped. "Sobald gespielt wird, und

sei die Varianten-Szene noch so kurz, gilt es als geschehen,"

he admits. "Macht des Theaters" (D 32). The success of the

"Variantentheater" is compromised by the author's own skeptical

outlook. As long as he doubts the ability of the individual

to transcend his role, his plays will be fatalistic. It is

unlikely that Frisch will write a successful "Varianten-Spiel"

until he has overcome his own pessimism. 64

III Metatheater: Self-Consciousness and Self-Dramatization. The Hero as Playwright

Don Juan oder die Liebe zur Geometrie

The lives of many of the characters discussed thus far were roles. They performed parts in a script dictated by society or by their own shortcomings. At most, they were aware of themselves as actors. In Don Juan oder die Liebe zur

Geometrie (1952; 1 9 6 1 ) , this latent theatricality is fully developed. As the hero of Frisch's only metaplay, Don Juar. is not only an actor, but also a playwright. He dramatizes himself and those around him in order to escape his social role.

Don Juan made his first appearance on the stage in Tirso

de Molina's El Burlador de Sevilla % convidado de piedra (1616?).

Like most of his successors, the original Don Juan was an

unscrupulous rogue whose immoral deeds called forth the ven­

geance of heaven. The statue symbolizes an absolute morality

whose transgressors are punished with biblical severity and

thoroughness. Before he drags Don Juan to hell, the statue

proclaims the moral of the play: "Esta es justicia de Dios:/ 43 quien tal hace, que tal pague." The authority of moral laws

was unequivocally accepted; it was unquestioned that Don Juan

must suffer for his crimes. "Der urspriingliche Don Juan lebt

in einer Welt, die in Ordnung ist," Paula Rtif observes. "Er

allein begibt sich aufterhalb dieser Ordnung und bezahlt dies

mit seinem Hollensturz. Fiir den Menschen des Barocks waren

die Gesetze von Liebe und Ehre, von FrOmmigkeit und Wiirde, 44 Kirche und Ehe giiltig." 65

Like many modern authors, Frisch is unable to accept

Don Juan in his original Baroque context. He has lost his belief in an orderly world governed by absolute moral laws.

"Das Absolute— daft er es als Steinernen Gast auftreten IMfit, wird man von eine~ heutigen Stiickschreiber kaum erwarten"

(2, 395), he writes in his notes to Don Juan. He continues:

Welcher von unseren Zuschauern glaubt, daft die Toten, die man beschimpft, tat- sachlich erscheinen und sich an unsere Tafeln setzen? In unseren Parlamenten, in unseren Konferenzen, wo iiber Krieg und andere Geschafte verhandelt wird, mtiftte ja ein Gedrange von Skeletten sein, und in der Versenkung . . . wimmelte es von Ministern, Direktoren, Generalen, Bankiers, Diplomaten, Journalisten— Nein, daran glauber. wir nicht mehr ( 2 , 3 96).

Frisch's skeptical attitude is reflected in his manipulation of theatrical tradition. Indeed, one critic has designated 4 5 "Zweifel" as the "Bauelement der Don Juan-Komodie selbst."

The element of Spiel, which he sought to incorporate in

Biografie, is already fully realized in Don Juan. Walter

Hollerer suggested as much to Frisch in Dramaturgisches:

"'Don Juan oder die Liebe zur Geometrie' hat doch den Spiel- charakter, den Sie jetzt fordern,— und dazu auch Oberzeugungs- kraft" (D 20). This "Spielcharakter" manifests itself as theater-within-the-theater. The traditional theatrical en­ vironment associated with Don Juan forms the backdrop of the play. "Ort: Ein theatralisches Sevilla. Zeit: Eine Zeit guter Kostume" (2, 8 ), Frisch writes in the stage directions.

This obvious theatricality, combined.with the spectators' own 66 familiarity with the Don Juan tradition itself, encourages a critical distance, as Frisch himself notes: "Don Juan als

Kostiim-Zitat, urn Theater von vornherein als Theater erscheinen Ufi zu lassen" (D 18).

Frisch's Spiel with theatrical tradition is reflected most clearly in Don Juan himself. When he appears as one of the masks in Die Chinesische Mauer, he is already "ein reflek- tierter Don Juan" (2, 392). In contrast to the other masks, whose consciousness is confined to their respective literary or historical contexts, Don Juan is keenly aware of his own theatricality. Like his author, he is a self-conscious indi­ vidual, and he deliberately distances himself from his tradi­

tional role:

Ich komme aus der Holle der Literatur. Was hat man mir schon alles angedichtet! Einmal nach einem Gelage, das ist wahr, ging ich iiber den Friedhof (der Abkiirzung wegen) und stolperte iiber einen Totenkopf. . . . Wann habe ich Gott gelastert? Das beichten die Ehebrecherinnen von Sevilla, und ein Pfaff, Gabriel Tellez, hat es in Verse gebracht . . . Einmal kam ein Bett- ler, das ist wahr, und ich hie£ ihn flu- chen, denn ich bin ein Tenorio, Sohn eines Bankiers, und mir ekelte, in der Tat, vor den Almosen der Tenorios. . . . Was immer ich tue oder lasse, alles wird mir ver- deutet und verdichtet (1, 147).

Don Juan makes references not only to Tirso de Molina's (i.e.

Gabriel Tellez') play, but also to motifs introduced by Moliere

(Don Juan, ou Le Festin de pierre, 1665) and Lorenzo da Ponte, 47 the librettist of Mozart's Don Giovanni (1787). And in a

bit of phrophetic irony, he also refers to the geometry theme 67 which Frisch would incorporate into his own Don Juan play six

years later: "Im Freudenhaus, das ich nicht notig habe,

spiele ich Schach: schon halt man mich fiir intellektuell.

Liebe zur Geometrie!" (1, 147).14®

Don Juan is the most self-conscious character Frisch

ever placed on the stage. He perceives his theatrical exist­

ence as an artificial role imposed upon him by tradition.

Don Juan has the consciousness of a dramatist, as well as

that of a character. Reflecting the skepticism of his author,

he rejects the traditional Don Juan script in favor of one

which he himself has devised. He authors and stages his own

drama to counter that being thrust upon him by tradition. By

instilling his hero with the consciousness of a dramatist,

Frisch also attains the theatrical freedom which he was un­

able to achieve in Biografie. Don Juan becomes master of his

role; he manipulates it in order to escape it. Moreover, the

conscious self-dramatization of metatheater is more successful

at distancing the audience and encouraging reflection- than

mere role variations. Don Juan's play-within-a-play is one

of the most trenchant Verfremdungseffekte Frisch ever employed.

* * *

The inhabitants of Frisch's "theatralisches Sevilla"

perform roles dictated by the Don Juan tradition. They lead

a theatrical existence. But, as Robert J. Matthews has ob­

served, the theatricality of Seville is "a theatre of bad faith.

The names, the masks, and the institutions belie their true meanings. There is only deception or maskinp: the dramatis personae are alienated from the human presence which underlies 4 9 each." Like Biedermann and the Andorrans, the characters of theatrical Seville are alienated from their true selves. Their 50 roles are based on deception and hypocrisy. Thus, within the confines of theatrical Seville Don Gonzalo is looked upon

as the "Vorbild der spanischen Ehe" (2, 26). But, as Matthews

notes, he is only married in a theatrical sense.^ Outside

Seville, in the midst of Muhamed's harem, he is impotent.

"Der Geist war willig, doch das Fleisch war schwach" (2, 34),

Don Juan observes wryly. Similarly, Pater Diego, who presides

over the wedding ceremony between Don Juan and Donna Anna, is

only a stage-priest. Although he notes that Don Gonzalo's

marriage is "die einzige vollkommene Ehe, die wir den Heiden

da druben zeigen konnen" (2 , 26), he himself is entertaining

an illicit affair with Donna Elvira, Don Gonzalo's wife. At

the moment, however, his paramour is more interested in her

future son-in-law, whom she succeeds in seducing before the

end of the second act. And Don Balthazar Lopez, who self-

righteously donated "ein halbes Vermogen" (2, 62) to the

Spanish church in order to put an end to Don Juan's immoral

life, himself has paid a visit to Celestina's bordello in the

second intermezzo. The bordello, however, is a necessary

counterpart to theatrical Seville. It is the only place where

the characters 'can temporarily remove their masks and give

vent to their true feelings without deception. "Hier, mein 69

Schatzchen, erholt sich der Mann von seinen falschen Gefiihlen,"

Celestina tells Miranda. "Das namlich ist's, wofur sie zahlen mit Silber und Gold. . . . Ich verkaufe keine Madchen, die

innen herum von einem andern traumen. Das, mein Schatzchen, haben unsre Kunden auch zuhaus!-" (2, 22).

Matthews has pointed out that the first three acts of the

play describe a process of "denomination."^ The characters

of theatrical Seville attempt to assign Don Juan a role on

their stage. Don Gonzalo undertakes the first such naming

early in act I. "Ich habe dich verkannt," he tells Don Juan,

"aber von dieser Stunde an nenne ich dich meinen Sohn, Brauti- • n o gam meiner Anna, Ritter des Spanischen Kreuzes, Held von

Cordoba!" (2, 11). In contrast to his countrymen, however,

Don Juan is a self-conscious intellectual who refuses to

assume a role in theatrical Seville. To his father's chagrin,

he is reluctant to visit the bordello, and when once there,

plays chess (2, 9-10). In defiance of the reigning ideology,

moreover, he asserts that he does not hate the pagans and that

much can be learned from them (2, 11). Don Juan's intellectual

independence is symbolized by his love of geometry. "Seine

Geliebte, sagt er mir ins Gesicht, seine Geliebte sei die

Geometrie" (2, 9), his father gasps.

Unlike the reflective characters of theatrical Seville,

Don Juan is an individual in search of his true identity. He

realizes, however, that the search for self is a painful pro­

cess, as he tells Roderigo: 70

Sei nicht wiBbegierig, Roderigo, wie ich! Wenn wir die Luge einmal verlassen, die wie eine blanke Oberflache glanzt, und diese Welt nicht bloB als Spiegel unsres Wunsches sehen, wenn wir es wissen wollen, wer wir sind, ach Roderigo, dann hort unser Sturz nicht mehr auf . . . Stiirze dich nie in deine Seele, Roderigo, oder in irgendeine, sondern bleibe an der blauen Spiegelflache wie die tanzenden Miicken iiber dem Wasser . . . (2, 45).

The inhabitants of theatrical Seville remain "an der blauen

Spiegelf lache wie die tanzenden Miicken iiber dem Wasser."

They do not search for their true identities beneath the surface of their roles. As a consequence, they never attain self-awareness. They accept their theatrical roles as real.

Don Juan believes he can achieve self-realization only be devoting his life to the study of geometry. In contrast to the ambivalent human emotions which govern the behavior of his contemporaries, geometry represents a sphere of unchanging

laws and eternally valid truths. He tells Roderigo:

Hast du es nie erlebt, das niichterne Staunen vor einem Wissen, das stimmt? Zum Beispiel: was ein Kreis ist, das Lautere eines geometrischen Orts. Ich sehne mich nach dem Lauteren, Freund, nach dem Niichternen, nach dem Genauen; mir graust vor dem Sumpf unserer Stimmungen .... WeiBt du, was ein Dreieck ist? Unentrinnbar wie ein Schicksal . . . So und nicht anders! sagt die Geometrie. So und nicht irgendwie! . . . es gibt eine einzige Figur, die sich mit ihrem Namen deckt. . . . Was ist feierlicher als zwei Striche im Sand, zwei Parallelen? . . . schau auf das weite Meer, es ist Weite . . . aber es ist nicht das Unendliche, das s-ie allein dir zeigen: zwei Striche im Sand, gelesen im Geist . . . (2, 43-44).

Don Juan is too self-conscious to willingly accept a role in someone else's play. He is himself a playwright. The rules of geometry constitute the script which he has chosen to govern his life. Thus, the play documents not only a process

of denomination, as Matthews has suggested, but more signi­

ficantly a struggle between two dramatists. The inhabitants

of theatrical Seville attempt to force Don Juan to assume a role on their stage, and Don Juan would have them conform to

the demands of his script.

The first confrontation occurs in acts I and II, as

theatrical Seville assigns Don Juan the role of husband to

Donna Anna. Don Juan demands that his emotions conform to

mathematical principles. He expects the object of his love

to be clear and specific. As in geometry, there should be

"eine einzige Figur, die sich mit ihrem Namen deckt." When

he arrives in Seville on the eve of his wedding with Donna

Anna, however, he must admit: "Ich habe keine Ahnung mehr,

wie sie aussieht" (2, 16). He is unable to specify the object

of his love: "Ich glaube, ich liebe. (Ein Pfau schreit.)

Was war das? (Ein Pfau schreit.) Ich liebe. Aber wen?"

(2, 16). The peacock, which functions as a motif in the first

act, symbolizes elemental sensual drives which are beyond 5 3 conscious, individual control. In contrast to geometry,

love for Don Juan seems to be governed not by rational laws,

but by chance. "Als ich urns nachtliche SchloJS ritt, sah ich

im Fenster ein jiinges Weib," he tells Roderigo. "Ich hatte

sie lieben kdnnen, die erste beste, jede, so gut wie meine Anna." "Vielleicht war sie's," his friend suggests. "Viel- leicht! Und darauf soil ich schworen, meinst du, wie ein

Blinder, und jede kann kommen und sagen, sie sei's?" (2, 17).

Unable to control his chaotic emotions, Don Juan's first in­ clination is to flee to geometry, "wo ich weiS, was ich wei/3:

-ja . . . Hier bin ich verloren" (2, 17). Instead, he en­ counters Donna Anna in the park, each unaware of the other's identity. "Sieh unsre Schatten an der Mauer, hat er gesagt, das sind wir: ein Weib, ein Mann!" she recalls the following morning. "Es war kein Traum. . . . Und wir haben gelacht, er nahm mich und fragte keinen Namen, er kiiftte meinen Mund und kiiflte, damit auch ich nicht fragte, wer er sei . . ." (2, 25).

Donna Anna's description of the encounter stresses the ano­ nymity and eroticism of the affair. The relationship is

based on a purely sensuous affinity. When she discovers at

the wedding ceremony in the second act that her lover is also

her intended, Donna Anna is convinced of the power of love.

For Don Juan, the fact that "die erste beste" happens to be

his bride just proves the capriciousness of human emotions.

"Er kommt sich als ein Stvick der Natur vor," Frisch writes in

his notes to the play, "blind, lacherlich, vom Himmel ver-

hohnt als Geist-Person" (2, 391). Realizing that his sensual

drives do not conform to his script, Don Juan cannot swear

that he will love Donna Anna and no other. "Da ihr euch also

erkennt," Pater Diego intones, . .] seid ihr also bereit

zu geloben, daft keine andere Liebe je in eurem Herzen sein 73 soil, solang ihr lebt, denn diese, die wir we5hen in Hamen des Vaters, des Sohnes, des Heiligen Genstes" (2, 30). A positive answer to Pater Diego's question would be an absurd lie: "Ich kann nicht schworen," Don Juan insists. "Wie soil

ich wissen, wen ich liebe? Nachdem ich we if?, was alles mog-

lich ist— auch fur sie, meine Braut, die mich erwartet hat, mich und keinen andern, selig mit dem ersten besten, der zu-

fallig ich selber war . . ." (2, 34). Don Juan's marriage to

Donna Anna is merely a device employed by theatrical Seville

to force him to assume a role on their stage. But Don Juan

remains true to his own script and refuses to marry her. As

a consequence, theatrical Seville imposes a new role on him, 54 and a second naming takes place. Whereas he had previously

named him "Brautigam meiner Anna," Don Gonzalo now dubs Don

Juan "Verfuhrer" (2, 32) and "Schander meines Kindes" (2, 34).

Similarly, for Pater Diego he has now become "dieser Frevler"

(2, 35). While escaping his pursuers, Don Juan is forced to

live this new role. Donna Elvira offers him sanctuary in her

chambers, and seduces him at the same time. And before the

night is over, Don Juan finds refuge in the bedrooms of two

more Donnas, whom he must seduce in order to stay there.

His confusing experiences with love and his contact with

the hypocritical characters of theatrical Seville convince

Don Juan that he cannot act according to his own script in

society. The principles of geometry can only be realized

within the confines of his own mind: m

Jenseits des Weihrauchs, dort wo es klar wird und heiter und durchsichtig, begin- nen die Offenbarungen; dort gibt es keine Launen, Roderigo, wie in der menschlichen Liebe; was heute gilt, das gilt auch mor­ gen, und wenn ich nicht mehr atme, es gilt ohne mich, ohne euch. Nur der Niich- terne ahnt das Heilige, alles andere ist Geflunker, glaub mir, nicht wert, daft wir uns aufhalten darin (2 , 44).

Don Juan withdraws more and more into himself. His outlook becomes increasingly subjective, and as a result the claims of objective reality lose their validity for him. Other human beings become insignificant. They are mere marionettes to be manipulated at will by the dramatist. Thus, he coldly abandons Donna Anna, "die," as Roderico tells him, "drauften urn den Teich irrt und deinen Namen ruft" (2, 42), with the laconic remark: "ein andrer wird sie trosten" (2, 44).

Similarly, he attempts to prove to himself the fickleness of sensual drives and the interchangeability of sexual objects by seducing Donna Inez, his best friend’s bride. "Ich bin wiftbegierig, mein Freund, von Natur," he explains to Roderigo.

"Ich fragte mich, ob ich dazu imstande bin. Inez ist deine

Braut, und du liebst sie, und sie liebt dich. Ich fragte mich, ob sie auch dazu imstande ist. Und ob du es glauben wirst, wenn ich es dir sage" (2, 45). Roderigo kills himself

in despair, but for Don Juan the deed is nothing more than an

intellectual experiment. This ruthless subjectivity is the

last consequence of Don Juan's self-consciousness. His legit­

imate quest for identity has degenerated into a cynical

narcissism. But despite this fact, Don Juan makes a last desperate attempt to reconcile his script with that of theatrical

Seville by correcting his previous error of having loved

Donna Anna without recognizing her. "Warum habe ich dich

umarmt und nicht erkannt?" (2, 47), he asks. At the end of

act III, he deliberately proclaims his love to the Donna Anna

figure before him, to her "die noch einmal erschienen ist

vor dem Verirrten, damit ich sie erkenne, und ich habe sie

erkannt" (2, 50). When he discovers that the figure is

actually Miranda, the prostitute, he realizes that his sensual

drives have again deceived him. "Jetzt fiirchte ich nichts

mehr," he says defiantly. "Wir wollen sehen, wer von uns

beiden, der Himmel oder ich, den andern zum Gespott macht!"

(2, 51).55

By the end of the third act, Don Juan has seduced (or

been seduced by) Donna Anna, Donna Elvira, Donna Inez, and an

anonymous fourth woman. Moreover, in addition to having pre­

cipitated the suicide of Don Roderigo, his father has died of

shock, Donna Anna has drowned herself in despair, and with an

inadvertent twitch of his sword, he has murdered Don Gonzalo.

Paradoxically, it is not his licentiousness but his intellec­

tual independence.which is responsible for these deeds, and

Don Juan is as astonished as anyone at the course of events:

"Ich bekenne, Pater Diago, ich komme mir wie ein Erdbeben vor

oder wie ein Blitz" (2, 50), he says incredulously. The

inhabitants of theatrical Seville see only the consequences, 76 not the motives of Don Juan's behavior. "Alle Welt kennt unsere Taten, fast niemand ihren Sinn" (2, 60), he later philosophizes. Seville forms a "Bildnis" of Don Juan, forcing him into his traditional theatrical role as "el burlador de

Sevilla." Since Don Juan rejected the original script given

him, Seville has assigned him a new one. But the latter is more than just another role. As "el burlador de Sevilla"

Don Juan has become the personification of theatrical

Seville's own Wunschbild. He is the "Vorbild" of Spanish

youth (2 , 60), men secretly admire him, and women long to be

seduced by him. "Als ware es mir je urn die Damen gegangen!"

(2, 60), he protests indignantly. He explains his predicament

to the Bishop of Cordoba:

£. . .] es ist ein Witz: die Damen, die von euren Predigten kommen, traumen ja von mir, und ihre Ehegatten ziehen die Klinge, bevor ich die Dame auch nur be- merkt habe, so mull ich mich schlagen, wo ich stehe und gehe . . . und noch bevor ich meine Klinge wieder einstecke, hangen die Witwen an meinem Hals, schluchzend, damit ich sie troste. . . . oder aber: ich lasse die Witwe einfach liegen . . . was alles andere als einfach ist, Eminenz, wir kennen die lebenslangliche Rachsucht des Weibes, das einmal vergeb- lich auf Verfiihrung gehofft hat- (2, 60-61).

Don Juan is forced to' perform this role for twelve years, the

time between acts III and IV. "Was bleibt mir andres iibrig,

ich bitte Sie, als meinem Ruhm zu entsprechen, Opfer meines

Ruhms zu sein-" (2, 61).

Don Juan thus finds himself in the paradoxical situation

of having to live his role in order to escape it, for it is 77 only in seducing women that he can free himself from them.

Hence, by the end of act III, it seems that theatrical Seville has been victorious, for it has succeeded in imposing a role

on Don Juan. Bu~ "el burlador de Sevilla" is not to be out­ done. Unlike Andri, Don Juan never identifies with the role

being thrust upon him by society. His almost pathological

egocentricity prohibits him from acquiescing to a script

authored by someone other than himself. It is more in keep­

ing with his character to produce his own play than to par­

ticipate in someone else's. Thus, in act IV Don Juan stages

his own counter-drama. He sees himself as the hero of a play

which is to culminate in the "death" of his role and in the

liberation of his true self. The famous descent into hell,

formerly a symbol of immanent cosmic justice, now becomes a

brilliant coup de theatre, authored, staged, and directed by

Don Juan himself. He hopes to free himself from his role by

condemning it to the realm of myth and legend. He explains

to the Bishop of Cordoba: "Don Juan Tenorio, Ihr nachgerade

volksttimlicher Erzfeind, der vor Ihnen sitzt im Glanz seiner

besten Mannesjahre und im Begriff, unsterblich zu werden, ja,

ich darf es wohl sagen: ein Mythos zu werden--Don Juan Tenorio,

sage ich, ist entschlossen und bereit, tot zu sein mit dem

heutigen Tag" (2, 59). In exchange for "die Legende von der

Hollenfahrt des Frevlers" (2, 59), Don Juan requests from the

church "eine Klause im Kloster, MSnnerkloster," where he might

spend the rest of his days, "namenlos, vom Weib verschont, 78

still und zufrieden mit meiner Geometrie" (2, 59). He attempts to convince the bishop to accept his plan: "[. . .] die Ge-

schichte ist glaubwtirdig, keineswegs originell, ein alter

Sagenstoff, eine Statue erschlagt den Morder, das kommt schon

in der Antike vor, und die Verspottung eines Totenschadels,

der dann den Spotter ins Jenseits holt, denken Sie an die

bretonischen Balladen, die unsre Soldaten singen: wir arbeiten

mit Oberlieferung-" (2, 64). The victims of this theatrical

ploy are the inhabitants of Seville. Don Juan has invited

his former paramours to a reunion. Having witnessed his

"damnation,11 he hopes they will spread the word of heaven’s

vengeance. "Don Juan ist tot. Ich habe meine Ruhe zur

Geometrie" (2, 63), he says hopefully. But before they ar­

rive, he reveals the whole scene to be a play-within-a-play

of which he himself is both author and hero:

Ich habe eine Person gemietet, die uns den Toten Komtur spielt, und die Damen werden schon kreischen, wenn sie seine Grabesstimme horen. , . . Dazu ein schnodes Gelachter meinerseits . . . ein Knall im rechten Augenblick, so daS die Damen ihre Gesichter verbergen--Eminenz sehen die sinnreiche Maschine unter dem Tisch!— und schon stinkt es nach Schwefel und Rauch. Alldies sehr kurz, versteht sich; Verbliiffung ist die Mutter des Wunders. . . . meine Musikanten spielen das bestellte Halleluja, und Schluii. . . . Ich bin in den Keller gesprungen— Eminenz sehen diesen sinnreichen Deckel in der Diele!— natiirlich nicht ohne einen gezie- menden Schrei, der Furcht und Mitleid" erregt, wie Aristoteles es verlangt (2, 62-63).

The real audience is thus aware of Don Juan as playwright and 79 actor. The fictive audience--Don Juan's former lovers— con­ tinues as it has done throughout the play to perceive Don

Juan's role as real. When the actual "damnation" takes place as Don Juan described it, they are entirely convinced. The discrepancy between real audience and fictive audience func­ tions as a Verfremdungseffekt. The fictive audience's naive acceptance of what is obviously theater invites a critical attitude on the part of the spectators toward events on the stage. This alienation is further enhanced by the Bishop of

Cordoba, who removes his disguise and reveals himself to be

Don Balthazar Lopez, Don Juan's archenemy. Lopez now takes it upon himself, Don Juan's "gotteslasterliche Legende zu entlarven" (2, 64). While the "damnation" is in progress, he denounces it as "ein Gericht des Himmels, das nichts als

Theater ist . . . nichts als Theater-" (2, 69). Although this revelation is unheeded by the fictive audience, it rein­ forces the real audience's perception of the whole scene as a theatrical coup.

Don Juan thus out-dramatizes theatrical Seville. He escapes his role; "el burlador de Sevilla" has become a legend.

This legend is subsequently confined to the theater, where it has always belonged. Pater Diego reports in act V that Don

Juan's damnation is now being reproduced on the stage. '"DER

BURLADOR DE SEVILLA', nennt es sich, 'ODER DER STEINERNE GAST',

ich habe es mir neulich ansehen miissen, weil es heiftt, unser

Prior, der Gabriel Tellez, habe es geschrieben" (2, 77). "Was bleibt dem Theater andres iibrig?" he adds later. "Wahr- heit laftt sich nicht zeigen, nur erfinden" (2, 77). The in­ habitants of theatrical Seville are incapable of comprehending the truth. They perceive Don Juan's role as real. For them, the damnation of "el burlador de Sevilla" has become a legend­ ary symbol of heavenly justice. By contrast, the real audience has become privy to the truth. By means of Verfremdungseffekte, they have been made aware of the theatricality of Don Juan's role. Hence, they are now prepared to deal with the under­

lying problem of Don Juan the playwright in act V.

When his plan of escape is thwarted by Don Balthazar

Lopez in act IV, Don Juan is forced to accept Miranda's (i.e.

the Duchess of Ronda's) offer of marriage. To avoid being

discovered by the inhabitants of Seville, he must spend the

rest of his life in seclusion at Ronda. Don Juan thus yields

to an existence which he has been struggling to avoid for the

last twelve years. But his marriage should not be viewed as

an affirmation of the reigning ideology. "Immer ist-die Don-

Juan-Existenz eine unmogliche," Frisch cautions in the notes

to the play, "selbst wenn es weit und breit keine nennenswerte

Gesellschaft gibt-" (2 , 392). Like the Rittmeister' s trip to

Hawaii and the Staatsanwalt's excursion to Santorin, Don Juan's

flight to geometry is an escape from the responsibilities of

everyday life. He believes he can discover his true identity

by isolating himself from others. "Welche Ungeheuerlichkeit,

dafl der Mensch allein nicht das Ganze ist!" he still insists 81 in act V. "Und je groBer seine Sehnsucht ist, ein Ganzes zu sein, urn so verfluchter steht er da, bis zum Verbluten ausge- setzt dem andern Geschlecht" (2, 76). But for Frisch the

search for identity can only be accomplished through an inter­ action with other human beings. Only in a relationship based on mutual love can the individual discover his true self.

This is the message which Mirands imparts to Don Juan in act

IV. "Du hast immer bloB dich selbst geliebt und nie dich

selbst gefunden," she tells him. "Drum hassest du uns. Du hast uns stets als Weib genommen, nie als Frau. Als Episode,

Jede von uns. Aber die Episode hat dein ganzes Leben ve^-

schlungen. Warum glaubst du nicht an eine Frau, Juan, ein

einziges Mai? Es ist der einzige Weg, Juan, zu deiner Geo­

metrie" (2, 57-58). Don Juan's narcissism had made it impos­

sible for him to establish a relationship with another indi­

vidual. In act V, he begins to realize that he cannot struggle

indefinitely against nature and avoid a union with another

person. "Ich sehe bloB, daB ich iiber das Lacherliche nicht

mehr zu lacheln vermag. Und daB ich mich abfinden werde, wo

es ein Abfinden nicht gibt. Sie ist eine Frau . . . und ich

bin ein Mann. Dagegen ist nichts zu machen" (2, 76-77), Don

Juan's youthful self-consciousness is tempered by maturity,

and he resigns himself to the unavoidable. He admits that he

loves Miranda. This love, and the eventual acceptance of

fatherhood, represent the first step toward self-realization.

"Don Juan ist kinderlos, meine ich, und wenn es 1003 Kinder 82 gabe!" Frisch writes. "Er hat sie nicht, sowenig, wie er ein

Du hat. Indem er Vater wird— indem er es annimmt, Vater zu sein--, ist er nicht mehr Don Juan. Das ist seine Kapitula- tion, seine erste Bewegung zur Reife" (2, 393). Don Juan can discover his true self only through a positive commitment to

life. Only when he has learned to love will he truly overcome his role as "el burlador de Sevilla."

IV Conclusion

Frisch's fundamental experience was a feeling of aliena­

tion induced by modern society. But he is doubtful whether

alienation can be overcome by political means. Consequently,

he turns inward, directing his attention to the individual.

Self-realization, Frisch maintains, can only be attained within

the confines of a personal relationship. Frisch's introspec­

tive outlook is a direct result of his disillusionment with

the possibility of political change. He attempts to realize

in the private sector what has become unattainable in the

political arena.

In the metaplay, Don Juan oder die Liebe zur Geometrie,

the dramatic consequences of alienation and increasing self-

consciousness are fully realized. Like his author, Don Juan

is alienated from the society in which he lives. As a result,

he retreats into himself, and his outlook becomes more and

more subjective. The inevitable consequence of this subjec­

tivity is self-dramatization. Don Juan is too self-conscious

to play a part in someone else's script. He sees himself as 83 a dramatist and finally casts himself in the hero's role of his own drama. Don Juan is thus the only figure in Frisch's

entire dramatic work who engages in conscious self-dramatiza-

5 6 tion. Don Juan alone is both character and playwright.

Frisch sought to devise a form in which a given role is

presented not as definitive, but merely as one of many possi­

bilities. The first step toward the realization of such a

form is not the "Variantentheater," but metatheater. Don Juan

demonstrates that his role is not fatalistically necessary.

As a dramatist, he exposes it as an artificial creation which

could be manipulated theatrically and discarded. This accomp­

lishment alone does not lead to fulfillment for Don Juan:

the roots of alienation lie deeper. But it is a necessary

step on the road to self-realization. By contrast, Kurmann,

the hero of Frisch's "Varianten-Spiel," remains a prisoner of

his role. Frisch had also hoped that his "Variantentheater"

would insure the spectator's mental alertness in the theater.

As we have seen, Biografie was not entirely successful in

this regard. Don Juan's play-withlin-a-play, however, effec­

tively distances the audience from events on the stage, thus

freeing them to reflect on the problem of alienation and the

search for identity. 84

Footnotes

^■"Buchner-Rede" in Offentlichkeit als Partner, 4th ed. (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972), p. 51. Here­ after abbreviated in the text as BR, followed by the page number.

o "Schillerpreis-Rede" in Offentlichkeit als Partner, p. 98. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as SpR, followed by the page number.

3 Dramaturgisches. Ein Briefwechsel mit Walter Hollerer (Berlin: Colloquium Verlag, 1969), p. 41. Hereafter abbrevi­ ated in the text as D, followed by the page number.

L l Alienation for Frisch is thus both a social and an existential phenomenon, as Adelheid Weise explains: "Er verkniipft die existentielle und gesellschaftliche Fragestel- lung, indem er das Phanomen der Entfremdung als einen BewuAt- seinszustand des Menschen definiert, der durch das Gesell- schaftssystem hervorgerufen wird. Sowohl in der kapitalis- tischen als auch in der kommunistischen Gesellschaft ist der Mensch sich selber fremd, weil seine Umgebung ihm ein fixiertes ExistenzbewuAtsein vermittelt und ihm damit die Offenheit sich selbst gegeniiber nimmt." Untersuchungen zur Thematik und Struktur der Dramen von Max Frisch, GSppmger Arbeiten zur Germanistik, No. 7 (Goppingen: Verlag Alfred Kummerle, 1969), p. 59.

^Tagebuch 1946-1949 (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1974), p. 33. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as TB, fol­ lowed by the page number.

C Horst Bieneck, WerkstattgesprSche mit Schriftstellern (Munich: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1962), pp. 24-25. Cf. Manfred Durzak: "Frisch beriihrt hier eigentlich ein erkenntnistheoretisches Problem. Es geht urn die Relation zwischen Ich und Wirklichkeit, zwischen Subjekt und Objekt. Die Tatsache einer einfachen geradlinigen Erkennbarkeit der Welt wird in Frage gestellt. Die Wirklichkeit entzieht sich. Was an die Stelle der Wirklichkeit tritt, ist die Fiktion, die der e'inzelne von sich entwirft, die Rolle, die er aufbaut und in der er, stellvertretend fiir die Wirklichkeit, agiert. Das bedeutet aber: daA jedes Handeln in der Wirklichkeit zum Rollenspiel tendiert und .daA die Wirklichkeit gleichsam hinter der vorgeschobenen Rolle verschwindet, unerkennbar bleibt, die 85

Rolle schlieBlich als Wirklichkeit ausgegeben wird.” Diirrenmatt, Frisch, Weifi. Deutsches Drama der Gegenwart zwischen Kritik und Utopie (Stuttgart: Reclam Verlag, 197 2) , p. 147.

7 Adelheid Weise also divides the search for identity into three stages, which she describes as "Selbsterfahrung," "Selbst- annahme," and "Selbstentwurf" (6 3-64). Cf. also Charles W. Hoffmann, "The Search for Self, Inner Freedom, and Relatedness in the Novels of Max Frisch" in The Contemporary Novel in German. A Symposium, ed. Robert R. Heitner, 2nd ed. (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1969), pp. 91-113.

^Weise, p. 64.

9 Cf. Weise: "Allein im Privatbereich hat der Mensch un- gehindert die Moglichkeit, sich selbst zu verwirklichen. In seinem Verhalten zum Partner zeigt es sich, ob er einer freien Entscheidung fahig ist und sich durch die Liebe als ein selbst- verantwortliches Wesen erweist. Das Gelingen oder Miftlingen der Beziehung der Menschen untereinander entscheidet iiber ihre Existenz, denn die Liebe wird von Max Frisch verstanden als ein Sich-Befreien aus der Entfremdung durch die Selbstverwirk- lichung in der verantwortlichen Wahl des Partners" (60).

■^Similarly, Hoffmann notes that in Frisch's last three novels — Stiller (1954) , Homo faber (1957 ), and Mein Name sei Gantenbein (1964)— there are only two characters who attain self-realization: the district attorney Rolf in Stiller and his wife. "Not only are these secondary characters,” he adds; "they also appear in the earliest of the three books. Since then, since 1954, Frisch has not created a character who succeeds" (100-101).

■^Der Autor und das Theater" in Offentlichkeit als Partner, p. 75. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as A, followed by page numbers.

12 Bertolt Brecht, Gesammelte Werke in _20 Banden (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1967), XVI, 931.

■^Cf. Durzak, p. 150.

14 Druzak’s assertion that it is " e m fast hoffnungsloses Unternehmen, zwischen dieser theoretischen Aufterung und den 86 zuvor diskutierten Aussagen Frischs einen plausiblen Zusammen- hang und eine gedankliche Kontinuitat herstellen zu wollen" (154) is, however, somewhat overstated.

15 For analyses of Frisch's "Dramatik der Permutation" see esp. Heinrich Geisser, Die Entstehung von Max Frischs Drama- turgie der Permutation, Sprache und Dichtung, Neue Folge, Vol. 21 (Bern: Verlag Paul Haupt, 1973); Albrecht Schau, "Max Frisch. Dichtung der Permutation" in Max Frisch— Beitrage zu einer Wirkungsgeschichte, ed. Albrecht Schau, Materialien zur deutschen Literatur, 2 (Freiburg im Breisgau: Universitats- verlag Becksmann, 1971), pp. 353-356; and Durzak, pp. 154-156.

1 8 Quotations are cited from the following two-volume edi­ tion of Frisch's plays: Stiicke _1 (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972 ); Stiicke 2 (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1973).

17 Cf. Manfred Jurgensen, who sees snow as "Symbol der Sterilitat, Gefangenschaft und Auflosung" and as "Sinnbild einer sich selbst begrabenden Ordnung" in Frisch's plays. Max Frisch. Die Dramen (Bern: Lukianos-Verlag Hans Erpf, 1968), pp. 17, 19.

18 Zum Problem der Identitat im Werk Max Frischs (Zurich: Juris-Verlag, 196 5), p . 99.

19 Durzak, p. 157. He continues: "Das subjektive Element der kiinstlerischen Erfindungsgabe wird nicht von einer ge- schlossenen Fabel absorbiert, sondern tritt, die Auflosung einer einheitlichen Wirklichkeitsapperzeption spiegelnd, sichtbar in Erscheinung: Die Fabel wird aufgelost und neu arrangiert, und der Vorgang des Arrangements wird auf der Biihne selbst zur Darstellung gebracht" (157).

20 Hellmuth Karasek justifiably criticizes Frisch's char­ acterization of Herbert as "eine idealistische Oberhohung der Nazi-Verbrecher . . . deren 'Grilnde' beim Morden allesamt viel banaler, viel unbegriindeter, viel schMbiger und weit weniger d&monisch waren." Max Frisch, 5th ed. , Friedrichs Dramatiker des Welttheaters, 17 (Velber bei Hannover: Friedrich Verlag, 1974), p. 29.

^Cf. Durzak's analysis, pp. 165-174; esp. pp. 169, 172. 87

“^Karasek, p. 45

^Karasek, p. 45.

2 4 Cf. Durzak, for whom the play’s "Handlung die Grenzen der Kolportage streift" (174).

2 5 My analysis is based on the "Version fur Paris" of 1972 , which appears in Stiicke JL.

^Durzak, p. 175.

^7Durzak, p. 174.

“^Karasek, p. 35.

29 Karasek, p. 34.

30 My analysis is based on the version of 1961, which appears in Stiicke 1.

^^Durzak, p. 18 5.

3 2 As in Santa Cruz, the Staatsanwalt's alienation is symbolized by the snow motif: "Es schneit noch immer so," Hilde observes. "Eine Lawine ist vom Dach gerutscht" (1, 265).

3 3 Cf. Durzak1s analysis of the Staatsanwalt’s metamorpho­ sis into a political revolutionary, pp. 190-192.

34 Cf. Weise: "Biedermanns Sprache bringt die Gespalten- heit des entfremdeten Menschen deutlich zum Ausdruck. Er sagt nicht, was er meint und meint nicht, was er sagt" (89). See her interpretation of the play, pp. 88-95.

3 5 Durzak, p. 218. But Durzak also calls attention to some essential differences between Brecht's and Frisch's dramatic intentions. In reference to the subtitle, "Ein Lehrstiick ohne Lehre," which Frisch affixed to Biedermann,. he writes: "Lehre bedeutet hier allerdings nur Einsicht in die Situation und— im Unterschied zu Brecht, dessen formale Mittel Frisch hier reichhaltig verwendet— keine bestimmte, inhaltlich festgelegte Deutung der Wirklichkeit" (214).

3 6 The Nachspiel was written in order to compensate for the relatively short length of the play. It adds nothing to the work, and in fact detracts from its effectiveness. Hellmuth Karasek brands it a "blofies politisches Kabarett." "So droht dem Lehrstuck im Nachspiel die Gefahr," he continues, "daB es sich zur blofien Kabarettpointe verengt" (76). Cf. also Durzak, p . 219.

^Weise, p. 98.

3 8 Francois Bondy, "Gericht iiber die Schuldlosen. Oder: 'Die Szene wird zum Tribunal'. Zu Siegfried Lenz' Die Zeit der Schuldlosen und Max Frischs Andorra,11 Der Monat, 14 1961/62) , Heft 161, pp. 54-57 . Cited by Durzak, p. 2 29 .

3 9 Heinrich Geisser, p. 27.

40 Durzak, p. 2 35.

U 1 Cf. Klaus Matthias: "Es ist deutlich, dafi Frisch dieses deus-ex-machina-Ende brauchte, um Spielraum und Todesgrenze seiner neuen dramaturgischen Theorie iiberhaupt in einem solchen Varianten-Spiel demonstrieren zu k(5nnen. Denn ohne die SchluB- szene hatte sich an Ktirmann gerade das Gegenteil dessen erwiesen, was das Stuck zeigen mochte." "Die Dramen von Max Frisch. Strukturen und Aussagen," Literatur in Wissenschaft und Unter- richt, 3(1970), p. 249.

4 2 My analysis is based on the second, revised version of 1961, which appears in Stiicke 2_. The second version does not deviate in any essential points from the original version of 1952 . See the latter in Spectaculum I (Frankfurt: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1960), pp. 321-370.

4 3 Tirso de Molina, Obras (Madrid: Ediciones de "la Lec- tura," 1910), I, 288. "This is the justice of God. As a man sows, so shall he reap." The Playboy of Seville, or Supper with a Statue, trans. Adrienne Schizzano Mandel and Oscar Mandel in Three Classic Don Juan Plays, ed. Oscar Mandel (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1971), p. 51. 89

Lili ... "Zu Max Frischs Don Juan oder die Liebe zur Geometrie, Schweizer Rundschau, 1953, Heft 3, 186.

4^Karasek, p. 59.

h g The idea of a theatrical ;quotation" is most clearly demonstrated in the case of Leporello, who quotes the closing speech of his counterpart in Moliere's play, Sganarelle, ver­ batim— and in French (2, 72).

47 . .. The scene with the beggar originated with Moliere (act III, scene ii). In da Ponte's libretto, Don Juan escapes his pursuers by hiding in a cemetery, where he later encounters the commandant's statue (act II, scene iii).

Ll Q Both the love of geometry and the intellectual indepen­ dence which Frisch's hero exhibits may have been inspired by Moliere's free-thinking Don Juan. When Sganarelle asks him what he believes in, Moliere's protagonist replies: "Je crois que deux et deux sont quatre, Sganarelle, et que quatre et quatre sont huit." Sganarelle responds: "La belle croyance et les beaux articles de foi que voila! Votre religion, a ce que je vois, est done 1'arithmetique." Don Juan, ou Le Festin de pierre (act III, scene i) in Theatre (Geneva: Editions d'art Albert Skira, 1943), III, 138-139. Some of the more traditional Don Juan motifs, which appeared in the works of Tirso de Molina, Moliere, or Lorenzo da Ponte and which Frisch incorporates into his own play, include: the seduction of a large number of women; the betrayal or abandonment of a woman (or women) to whom Don Juan was betrothed or had promised marriage; the murder of the commandant and the return of his statue; the damnation scene; Don Juan's bankruptcy; the rejected and disappointed father of Don Juan; Don Juan's betrayal of his friend; the appearance of a veiled woman at the end, etc.

4 9 "Theatricality and Deconstruction m Max Frisch's Don Juan," Modern Language Notes, 87(1972), p. 745.

^Cf. Peter Gontrum, "Max Frisch's Don Juan: A New Look at a Traditional Hero," Comparative Literature Studies, 2(1965), p. 119.

^^Matthews, p. 74 5. 90

^^Matthews, p. 7 44.

5 3 Cf. Hiltrud Gnug: "Die Pfauenschreie, die das Weibchen anlocken sollen, werden in diesem Kontext zur sinnfalligen Metapher, in der sich das elementare gattungshafte Verlangen einer jede Individualitat auflosenden Sinnlichkeit widerspie- gelt, und die Finsternis der Nacht, die wie schon bei Molina den Schauplatz des Don Juan-Auftritts charakterisiert, wird zum szenischen Symbol der Anonymitat sinnlicher Triebhaftig- keit." Don Juans theatralische Existenz. Typ und Gattung (Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1974), p. 225 , footnote. Gniig also sees the masquerade of the first act as a "theatralisches Symbol des Verwechselbaren, Austauchbaren sinnlicher Begierde" (225) .

54 Cf. Matthews, p. 7 45.

5 5 Don Juan's declaration of love to the Donna Anna figure is thus not, as Peter Gontrum would have it, an indication of his "sentimentality" (120). Nevertheless, the psychological motivation of Don Juan's behavior in this scene is somewhat obscure. It is unclear why he suddenly declares his love to the Donna Anna figure, especially since he had unequivocally asserted just five pages before that he could never love Donna Anna again ("Es gibt keine Wiederkehr . . . (2, 43)). Moreover, it remains a mystery how Miranda knows o^ the cir­ cumstances surrounding the previous meeting between Donna Anna and Don Juar., which she now reenacts. Don Juan's failure to recognize Miranda as an imposter, even after the corpse of Donna Anna has been brought into view, also begs explanation. See Matthias, p. 238 and Durzak, p. 203.

5 6 A possible exception is Philipp Hotz, who stages his "grofie Wut" to impress his wife. But he is not aware of him­ self as a dramatist, and he does not employ self-dramatization as a response to a hostile society. CHAPTER TWO

FRIEDRICH DtfRRENMATT: SELF-DRAMATIZATION AND ESCAPISM

I The Search for Meaning: Diirrenmatt's Dramatic Characters

A dream sequence in "Die Falle," a selection from

Diirrenmatt’s early prose collection, Die Stadt (1952 ),"'' de­ picts human history as mankind's unceasing flight down an enormous staircase into a sea of fire. In "Der Tunnel," a train enters a tunnel on a frequently traveled stretch of track and suddenly begins to race uncontrollably downward into a seemingly endless abyss. And in "Der Folterknecht" we read: "Die Folterkammer ist die Welt. Die Welt is Qual. 2 Der Folterknecht ist Gott. Der foltert." Diirrenmatt has 3 referred to this early prose collection as a "Vorfeld" for the plays which were to follow. Indeed, the pessimism which manifests itself in these early works in such an unadulterated

form must be viewed as the fundamental point of departure for

all his later works. For Durrenmatt, the world and human

existence are devoid of any inherent order or purpose; the

world is a senseless chaos. "Ich lehne es ab, das Allgemeine

in einer Doktrin zu finden, ich nehme es als Chaos hin," he

writes in "Theaterprobleme" (1954). "Die Welt (die Biihne

somit, die diese Welt bedeutet) steht fiir mich als ein Ungeheures

91 92 da, als ein RStsel an Unheil, das hingenommen werden mufl, vor 14 dem es jedoch kein Kapitulieren geben darf." Diirrenmatt's pessimism has been described as a spontaneous, unpremeditated feeling, experienced independent of any specific impetus from 5 objective reality. In his essays, however, the author reveals his outlook to be the product of two fundamental insights.

The first of these insights concerns his evaluation of con­ temporary society. The modern world, he maintains, has assumed

its present character chiefly as the result of two occurrences: the population explosion and the ascendancy of technology. In

his speech "Vom Sinn der Dichtung in unserer Zeit" of 1956, he

describes technology as "das sichtbar bildhaft gewordene

Denken unserer Zeit." The most significant "Denken unserer

Zeit," says Durrenmatt, is that carried out in the natural

sciences. The thinking processes in the natural sciences,

however, have moved increasingly from the sphere of language

into the sphere of mathematical abstraction. They and the

technological devices which they make possible have thus

become incomprehensible to the majority of the population.

As a result, "der Mensch sieht sich immer gewaltiger von

Dingen umstellt, die er zwar handhabt, aber nicht mehr be-

greift" (VS 59). Technology is thus partly responsible for

man’s alienation from his immediate environment. This process

of estrangement has been further accelerated by "die Explosion

der Menschheit ins Milliardenhafte" and "die zwangslciufige

Verwandlung der Vaterlander in Staaten, der Volker in 93 7 . Massen." The individual has become politically inconsequen­ tial; he is confronted with a "boshaftes, unpersonliches, abstraktes Staatsungeheuer" (VS 60) which he is unable to comprehend. The ascendancy of technology and the increasing population have thus contributed to a process by which our age has become what Diirrenmatt terms a "Zeitalter der Abstrak- tion." The world devised by modern science and political institutions is beyond the conceptual grasp of the individual.

He no longer comprehends his environment; he has lost the

"Bild" of his world:

Die Welt . . . ist ohne Gegenwart entweder zu sehr der Vergangenheit verhaftet oder einer utopischen Zukunft verfalien. Der Mensch lebt in einer Welt, die er weniger kennt, als wir das annehmen. Er hat das Bild verloren und ist den Bildern verfal- len. DaB man heute unser Zeitalter eines der Bilder nennt, hat seinen Grund darin, daB es in Wahrheit eines der Abstraktion geworden ist. Der Mensch versteht nicht, was gespielt wird, er kommt sich als ein Spielball der Machte vor, das Weltgesche- hen erscheint ihm zu gewaltig, als daB er noch mitbestimmen konnte; was gesagt wird, ist ihm fremd, die Welt ist ihm fremd. Er spurt, daB ein Weltbild errichtet wurde, das nur noch dem Wissenschaftler verstand- lich ist . . . (VS 60).

Diirrenmatt’s second fundamental insight concerns his

view of history. Although he maintains "daB unsere Gegenwart

auf Grund der menschlichen Natur notwendigerweise so ist"

(VS 63), he simultaneously denies that man's development can

be analyzed or influenced. This contradictory attitude toward

history is largely responsible for his inability to comprehend

the modern world. Because he makes no attempt to analyze historical processes, he is unable to place contemporary society in an historical context. He therefore accepts it as a chaos in which the individual must necessarily appear incon­

sequential. Brecht, too, understood that the individual alone

is insignificant, but through an analysis of history he was

able to place modern society in perspective. When seen as a

member of a class, the individual becomes part of an analyz-

able historical process which includes inevitable social

change. Unlike Brecht, Diirrenmatt continues to think in

terms of individuals rather than classes. As a result, his

outlook leads to a dead end. He sees the individual as the

helpless victim of an inexorable and incomprehensible world.

"In der Wurstelei unseres Jahrhunderts, in diesem Kehraus der

weiiien Rasse, gibt es keine Schuldigen und auch keine Verant-

wortlichen mehr," he writes in "Theaterprobleme." "Alle

konnen nichts dafiir und haben es nicht gewollt. Es geht

wirklich ohne jeden. Alles wird mitgerissen und bleibt in

irgendeinem Rechen hangen. Wir sind zu kollektiv schuldig,

zu kollektiv gebettet in die Siinden unserer Vater und Vor-

vSter. Wir sind nur noch Kindeskinder" (122).

The most significant conclusion which Durrenmatt draws

from his insights is that of the total insignificance of the

individual vis-a-vis the collective and of the futility of all

attempts to bring about social or political reform, "Der alte

Glaubenssatz der RevolutionSre, dafi der Mensch die Welt verandern

kdnne und miisse," he writes in his Schiller speech of 195 9 , 95

"ist fur den einzelnen unrealisierbar geworden, aufier Kurs gesetzt . . . Der Teil geht nicht mehr im Ganzen auf, der

einzelne nicht mehr in der Gesamtheit, der Mensch nicht mehr

in der Menschheit. Fur den einzelnen bleibt die Ohnmacht,

das Gefuhl, ubergangen zu werden, nicht mehr einschreiten,

mitbestimmen zu konnen, untertauchen zu miissen, urn nicht

unterzugehen . . (228). As a direct result of this feeling

of impotence in the socio-political arena, Diirrenmatt turns

inward. Like Frisch, he believes the individual can act

autonomously only in the private sector. In the "Ansprache

anlMfilich der Verleihung des Kriegsblinden-Preises" (1957)

he maintains:

Die Welt als ganze ist in Verwirrung, allzuviel racht sich nun, allzuschnell ist die Menschheit angewachsen. Die Welt des einzelnen dagegen ist noch zu bewal- tigen, hier gibt es noch Schuld und Siihne. . . . Nur im Privaten kann die Welt auch heute noch in Ordnung sein und der Frieden verwirklicht werden. . . . Keine Politik der Welt kann die entscheidenden Fragen losen, die uns bewegen. . . . Erst hinter den Kulissen dessen, was von der Politik, vom Staat verniinftigerweise zu fordern ist und was auch zu leisten wSre, namlich Freiheit und soziale Gerechtigkeit, be- ginnen die nicht selbstverstandlichen, die entscheidenden Fragen, die nicht gemeinsam zu losen sind, die aber jeder einzelne zu 15sen hat.®

For Ddrrenmatt, the only possible response to a chaotic world

is courageous defiance. "Die Chance liegt allein noch beim

einzelnen," he declares. "Der einzelne hat die Welt zu be-

stehen. Von ihm aus ist alles wieder zu gewinnen. Nur von

ihm, das ist seine grausame EinschrSnkung" (VS 63). One of Diirrenmatt's chief concerns, therefore, is "wie g der einzelne die Welt besteht oder wie er untergeht." He investigates this problem in his plays by placing his charac­ ters in a variety of situations and monitoring their reactions

"Ich gehe vom Komodiantischen aus, vom Einfall, urn etwas ganz

Unkomodiantisches zu tun: den Menschen darzustellen," he

says in an interview with Horst Bienek, "so konnte ich viel-

leicht meine Kunst definieren. . . . Anders ausgedruckt: das

Komodiantische ist meine dramaturgische, ich mochte fast sagen

meine wissenschaftliche Methode, mit der ich mit dem Menschen

experiir.entiere, urn oft Resultate zu erhalten, die mich aller-

dings oft selber verbluff en. As a result of Diirrenmatt's

"experiments," his main dramatic characters may be divided

into three groups, depending upon their response to the modern

world. The first group includes the idealists and others who

attempt to change society, to influence the course of histori­

cal events, or even to alter human nature. By contrast, those

of the second group are opportunists who have learned to cope

with the world on a purely materialistic level. The chief

attributes displayed by the characters of the third group are

humility and acceptance. They accept the world as a chaos

and attempt to find a meaning within themselves. An analysis

of these character configurations yields valuable insights

into Diirrenmatt's conception of the individual's role in

modern society,^ 97

The characters of the first group undertake "heroic" tasks of monumental proportions, often in the name of a higher ideal.

Their actions always result in failure. This is demonstrated

almost programmatically in Die Ehe des Herrn Mississippi

(1952; 19 57). In an address to the audience, Obelohe main­

tains "daB es dem neugierigen Autor auf die Frage ankam, ob

der Geist— in irgenaeiner Form--imstande sei, eine Welt zu

andern, die nur existiert, ohne eine Idee zu besitzen, ob die

Welt als Stoff unverbesserlich sei . . ." (K I, 118).^ The

play clearly offers a negative response to the author’s ques­

tion. Mississippi, Saint-Claude, and Obelohe are idealists,

"die sich, aus verschiedenen Methoden, nichts mehr und nichts

weniger in den Kopf gesetzt hatten, als die Welt teils zu an­

dern, teils zu retten" (K I, 89-90). They are all decisively

defeated, their plans totally foiled. "So fielen wir, Henker

und Opfer zugleich, durch unsere eigenen Werke" (K I, 157),

Mississippi declares. The failure of "Geist" to effect change

in the world is a theme already present in Diirrenmatt’s first 13 dramatic work, Es_ steht geschrieben (1946). The play de­

scribes the abortive attempt of the Anabaptists to set up

their ideal kingdom in Munster during the sixteenth century.

The bishop alone recognizes the futility of their venture and,

while diagnosing their fatal flaw, confidently predicts their

destruction: "Aber daB ihr an euch selbst glaubt, Knipper-

dollinck, wird euer Untergang sein" (K II, 36). Similarly,

King Nebukadnezar in Ein Engel kommt nach Babylon (1953; 1957) 98 seeks to realize "die Ideen . . . die in mir aufstiegen" by attempting to create "den wahrhaft sozialen Staat" (K I, 171).

The success of these plans is marred, however, by his inability to mold Akki according to his will and incorporate him into the new utopia. Moreover, his grandiose scheme is belittled by the fact that it does not merit heavenly recognition:

Kurrubi, symbol of heaven's gift of grace to mankind, rejects him. That the time of great individuals and heroic accom­ plishments is past is demonstrated most clearly in Herkules und der Stall des Augias (1962; radio play, 1954). Hercules' heroic reputation is deflated by his failure to free Elis of

its ubiquitous manure— a deed which would result in the radi­

cal alteration of its social structure— and he concedes him­

self: "Held ist nur ein Wort . . ." (K II, 410). The truth

of this statement is also evidenced by Frank V (Frank der

FUnfte, 1958; 1964), who is unable to match the criminal ac­

complishments of his great and corrupt predecessors (K II,

225). But Frank is not only unable to be a great gangster.

Despite their efforts, he and his wife Ottilie are also in­

capable of liquidating their gangster-bank and becoming "an-

standig." They have become victims of the vast machinery of

corruption they helped create. Now, for the sake of its own

survival, the system forbids any deviation from the status

quo. They have no choice but to submit to the collective

(K II, 278). That the betterment of society cannot be accom­

plished by any individual alone is also the lesson of Die 99

Physiker (1961). The noble and selfless attempts of Mobius and the other physicists to save mankind from its own destruc­ tion are doomed to failure. The scientific knowledge acquired by Mobius is the inevitable product of mankind's intellectual development. This historical process cannot be altered or nullified by any individual. It is up to mankind itself to use this knowledge wisely, for "was alle angeht, konnen nur alle losen."'*'4

Although Durrenmatt denies that the individual can change society, it is also clear from his essays and the plays that he seriously doubts whether society as a whole will ever under­ take reform. Hence, it is not surprising that the characters

of the second group are materially the most successful of

Diirrenmatt's dramatis personae. They accept the world as a

chaos and attempt to extract the greatest material gain from

it. Devoid of ideals and revolutionary fervor, these figures

live for the moment. They often take advantage of the upheaval

in which the idealists are destroyed in order to provide for

their own survival or to secure economic or political power.

The archetype of this second group is found again in Die Ehe

des Herrn Mississippi, in the person of Anastasia. In con­

trast to Mississippi, Saint Claude, and Obelohe she has no

ideals and does not attempt to save mankind or alter the social

structure. On the contrary, she is "allein der Welt nachge-

bildet" (K I, 118) and loves "nichts als den Augenblick"

(K I, 90). Her only concern is her own immediate survival, 100 in pursuit of which she continuously switches her allegiance from one man to the other. She finally achieves success through her shrewd attachment to the Justizminister, for he too is an opportunist. "Ideale sind schon und gut," he concedes, "aber ich habe mich an das Mogliche zu halten . . ." (K I, 109).

"Das Mogliche" presents itself soon enough as the opportunity to seize political power. In so doing, the Justizminister

operates entirely in accordance with, and as a member of, the

political system, which is perpetuated by his action. He merely steps into a vacuum in the political structure, which

could have been filled just as easily by any other politician

(K I, 121-122). Similarly, Casar Rupf in Romulus der GroP>e

(1948; 1957; 1961; 1964) and Fraulein Doktor Mathilde von

Zahnd in Die Physiker both appear in the right place at the

right time to take advantage of a potentially lucrative oppor­

tunity. "Ich nahm nur eine Gelegenheit wahr" (K II, 349),

Doktor von Zahnd maintains. Perhaps the most eloquent repre­

sentative of this second group of characters is Bockelson,

especially as he is characterized in Die Wiedertaufer (1967),

the revised version of Diirrenmatt's first stage work, Es

steht geschrieben. The later Bockelson is an actor driven by

his own theatricality to continuously seek new roles. Like

Anastasia and the Justizminister, he is a clever opportunist

who makes the most of his theatrical talents. He plays "king"

to the Anabaptists in Miinster and temporarily exploits their

naive faith in order to indulge in some short-lived merry­

making— with the help of his sixteen wives. The success achieved by these unprincipled characters

suggests that Diirrenmatt espouses crafty opportunism as the most practical formula for survival in the modern world. But the plays contain a third group of characters. Like those of

the second group, these figures also recognize the futility

of all attempts to improve the world or alter the course of

history. But what they realize cannot be accomplished in

society, they have succeeded in accomplishing within themselve

"Die verlorene Weltordnung wird in ihrer Brust wieder herge-

stellt" (Tp 123), Diirrenmatt writes. Although they perceive

the world as a chaos, they do not surrender to it. They give

their lives a meaning and purpose, a "Sinn," in a world which

is "sinnlos." These "mutige Menschen" (Tp 12 3) are Diirrenmatt

real heroes. Their lives are a courageous act of defiance in

the face of overwhelming odds. For Diirrenmatt, they embody

the only respectable response to a chaotic world: a recogni­

tion of one's limits and an acceptance of the unavoidable.

In the early plays, these qualities appear as Christian vir­

tues. "Der Mensch vermag nicht has GroBe, er vermag nur das

Kleine. Und das Kleine ist wichtiger als das GroBe," the

bishop tells Knipperdollinck. "Wir kbnnen viel Gutes tun auf

der Welt, wenn wir bescheiden sind. . . . Halte, was fiir

Tclufer und Bischof gilt: Liebe deine Feinde, wie dich selbst,

verkaufe, was du hast und gibs den Armen, und widerstehe nicht

dem Obel" (K II, 37). Knipperdollinck accepts this advice,

dissociates himself from the Anabaptists and their attempts 102 to realize "das GroBe" and leads the life described by the bishop. His faith in a higher order bestows a meaning upon his life and transforms his death on the wheel into a moment of spiritual fulfillment (K II, 114-115). Nevertheless, within the context of the play his death appears not as a transfigura­ tion, but merely as one insignificant incident in a series of

senseless occurrences. In Diirrenmatt's second play, Der Blinde

(1947), the faith of the blind duke in "Gott und seine Gerech- tigkeit" (K II, 166) likewise forms the indestructible founda­ tion of his life. "Wer glaubt, (iberwindet den Tod" (K II,

190), he asserts. But it is also undeniable that his faith,

like his blindness, nurses an illusion into which he has 15 retreated m order to avoid confronting a harsh reality.

All the characters of the third type appear in this ambiguous

light. They are the victims of an unpredictable world, yet

they are able to find a meaning and purpose•in life. Their 1 C lives and ends are thus "sinnvoll und sinnlos zugleich."

Based on the religious elements in these early plays, one

critic maintains "daB Durrenmatts eigentliches Feld die theo- 17 logische Kombdie ist." But this theological orientation is

absent from many later works. Diirrenmatt is not concerned

with the individual’s relation to God, but with his relation

to a chaotic world. Some characters were able to find meaning

through faith. Romulus (Romulus der GroBe) and 111 (Der Besuch

der alten Dame, 1955) find a purpose in life through the recog­

nition of a moral principle: through an admission of guilt 103 and an acceptance of their fate in the name of justice. Other characters, realizing that grandiose plans for the betterment of society are doomed to failure, give their lives a construc­ tive purpose by doing good within the limited sphere of their own capabilities. "Es ist eine schwere Zeit, in der man so wenig fur die Welt zu tun vermag," Augias tells Phyleus in

Herkules, "aber dieses Wenige sollen wir wenigstens tun: Das

Eigene" (K II, 428).

The disappearance of the third type of character from

Diirrenmatt's later plays documents the author's increasing pessimism. For Ottilie, for Mobius and the other physicists there remains nothing but empty resignation in the face of a hopeless future. This emptiness itself is the topic of Der

Meteor (1964). Unable to give his life a meaning, Schwitter must fear "dafi ich wieder leben muJ5" (K III, 73). Schwitter surrenders, accepts decay as the guiding principle of life and therefore sees its only purpose in death. "Der Tod ist das einzig Wirkliche . . . das einzig Unvergangliche" (K III,

72), he asserts. Since 1958 , Diirrenmatt has not created a new character who incorporates a positive alternative to hope­

less resignation. The world appears as an increasingly in­

scrutable "RStsel an Unheil." In his penultimate play, 18 PortrSt eines Planeten (1971), the individual is literally the victim of a hostile environment. In a sequence of scenes,

the play depicts the insignificance and senselessness of life

on earth in its last moments before the explosion of the sun. 104

II Chaos and Comedy

Diirrenmatt's perception of the world has strongly in­ fluenced his theoretical observations. "Uns kommt nur noch die Komddie bei," he writes in "Theaterprobleme" (122). He defends his commitment to comedy by describing it as the only possible response to our world. "Die Tragodie, als die ge- strengste Kunstgattung, setzt eine gestaltete Welt voraus," he observes. "Die Komodie— sofern sie nicht Gesellschafts- komodie ist wie bei Moliere— eine ungestaltete, im Werden, im

Umsturz begriffene, eine Welt, die am Zusammenpacken ist wie die unsrige" (Tp 120-121). It is the nature of the comic,

"das Gestaltlose zu gestalten, das Chaotische zu formen"

(Tp 121). Comedy enables the spectator to see more clearly by distancing him from the chaotic world. The essential

ingredient of comedy, Durrenmatt maintains, is the "Einfall."

It is not primarily "das Hereinbrechen eines Unberechenbaren, 19 Irrationalen . . . in eine scheinbar geordnete Welt," as

Gerhard Neumann would have it, but may be more aptly described

as the germ of the plot. It is the original thematic idea 20 from which the entire comedy develops. Its essence, Durrenmatt

writes in "Anmerkung zur Komodie" (1952), is a comic or gro- 21 . tesque distortion of contemporary reality which distances

the spectator, thus giving him a perspective on current problems.

"Das Groteske ist eine clufierste Stilisierung, ein pldtzliches

Bildhaftmachen und gerade darum fclhig, Zeitfragen, mehr noch,

die Gegenwart aufzunehmen, ohne Tendenz oder Reportage zu 105 22 sein," he writes. He praises the works of his mentor, 2 3 Aristophanes, as "Eingriffe in die Wirklichkeit." Comedy is a confrontation with reality. Its primary purpose is to make the audience see.

Hans Mayer has pointed out the similarities between

Durrenmatt*s ideas in these early essays and those of Brecht.

"Damit aber geriet der Dramaturg Durrenmatt in betrachtliche

Nahe zum Epischen Theater Brechts, denn gerade Brechts Aufsatz

'Die Straftenszene1 . . . geht vom gleichen Gedanken aus:

aktuelles Geschehen in distanzierter Form dem Zuschauer vorzu- 24 tragen." As his outlook becomes increasingly skeptical,

however, Diirrenmatt consciously distances himself from the

idea of a theatre engage. By 1959 he has become convinced

that political reform is impossible. His Schiller speech of

that year documents his confrontation with Brecht. Like

Schiller, he states, Brecht is a "sentimentalischer Dichter."

The sentimental poet "ist nur als Rebell denkbar. . . . Das

Theater ist das' Podium seiner Anklage. In Tyrannos. Die

Szene wird zum Tribunal. Der sentimentalische Dichter klSrt

das Publikum auf" (S 2 22). Brecht became a political revolu­

tionary, convinced that the theater could contribute to a

restructuring of society. By contrast, Schiller strove for a

revolution from within. "Die Revolution war fiir ihn sinnlos,

weil er die Freiheit tiefer durchdachte als sie" (S 229).

Diirrenmatt attributes the differing outlooks of these two

sentimental poets to the political circumstances in which they lived. Whereas Brecht was a product of "jener zweifel- haften Epoche . . . in der Deutschland wirklich eine Weltmacht war" (S 227 ), Schiller was a "Biirger des weimarischen Zwerg-

staates" (S 227 ). "Es war eines seiner Grundgefiihle, poli-

tisch ohnmachtig zu sein, in einer Welt zu leben, die sich ohne

Rucksicht auf die Nation einrichtete, der er angehorte ..."

(S 227). Durrenmatt sees a parallel between the political

conditions of Schiller's time and those of our own, "weil auch

wir in unsere Schranken gewiesen sind" (S 227). We, too, are

"politisch ohnmachtig." Brecht's political engagement has

thus become an historical anachronism. It is no longer a

viable response to reality. Not Brecht, but Schiller offers

the most appropriate response to our world. "In Schiller ist

die grofte Nuchternheit spurbar, die wir heute dem Staate

gegeniiber notig haben, dessen Neigung, total zu werden, imma­

nent geworden ist: Der Mensch ist nur zum Teil ein politisches

Wesen, sein Schicksal wird sich nicht durch seine Politik

erfiillen, sondern durch das, was jenseits der Politik liegt,

was nach der Politik kommt. Hier wird er leben oder

scheitern" (S 232).

Diirrenmatt's preoccupation with Brecht also leads him to

the aesthetic question whether reality can be represented on 2 5 the stage. This question, which also concerned Max Frisch,

was asked of Brecht by the Darmstadt ''Dramaturgen-Konf erenz"

in 1955. Diirrenmatt confronts the question directly in the

"Standortsbestimmung zu Frank V." of 1960. "Nimmt sich die 107

Dramatik vor, die Welt wiederzugeben, so muB abgeklSrt werden, 2 6 ob das iiberhaupt moglich ist." Like Frisch, Durrenmatt is skeptical. Both authors see the world as an inscrutable chaos. In his interview with Horst Bienek in 1961 Durrenmatt maintains "daB ich mir nicht zutraue, mit einem Theaterstuck die Wirklichkeit wiedergeben zu konnen; dazu halte ich die

Wirklichkeit fur zu gewaltig, fur zu anstoBig, fur zu grausam und zu dubios und vor allem fur viel zu undurchsichtig. . . .

Ich glaube, daB Wirklichkeit an sich nie erkennbar ist, sondern nur ihre Metamorphosen" (101). Reality is incomprehensible.

In order to represent it on the stage, the dramatist must

rely upon a theory explaining it. "Zieit die Dramatik auf

eine 'Wiedergabe der Welt', muB sie sich daher dem Satze

Newtons unterwerfen: Hypotheses non fingo," Durrenmatt writes

in the "Standortsbestimmung." "Sie wird 'naturwissenschaft-

lich' abhangig von der Theorie iiber die Welt, auf die sie

sich stiitzt, deren Sieg oder Niederlage dann ihren jeweiligen

Wahrheitsgehalt bestimmt" (185). The drama is accessible to

the spectator only in so far as he accepts the dramatist's

theory of the world. In the fragmentary essay "Aspekte des

dramaturgischen Denkens," first published in 197 2, Durrenmatt 27 describes this approach as a "Dramaturgie vom Zwecke her."

He includes among its proponents not only Brecht, but also

Schiller: "Liegt in der moralischen Anstalt der Zweck der

Tragodie, so muB Schillers autonome Biihnenwelt vom Zweck her

kommentiert werden, sonst wird sie mehrdeutig . . . Auch fUr 108

Brecht ist die Gegenwart nicht direkt darstellbar. . . . Die

Welt kann nur mit dem Rezept, sie zu andern, auf die Biihne gebracht werden, im Verein mit einer Idee und von der Idee her kommentiert" (A 214-215). Durrenmatt rejects a drama­ turgy which is based upon a theoretical interpretation of reality. "Ich deute die Welt nicht" (St 186), he asserts.

The dramatist's ideology, which often leads to the use of

Verfremdungseffekte, destroys the aesthetic immediacy of the theater. Thus, whereas he had preferred the political atti­ tudes of Schiller to those of Brecht, he distances himself from both playwrights on aesthetic grounds. "Dramatik ist

letztlich und vor allem ein Erzielen des Elementaren. Zu-

schauen ein elementarer Vorgang," Durrenmatt maintains. "Das

Publikum kummert sich nicht urn den Grund, weshalb etwas ge-

schrieben wurde, das Ziel lafit es kalt. Es ist dem Augen-

blick verschworer." (St 188).

The significance of the exchange between the Darmstadt

"Dramaturgen-Konferenz" and Brecht lies not only in the ques­

tion posed, but also in the response given. Brecht replied

"DaB die heutige Welt auch auf dem Theater wiedergegeben wer- 2 8 den kann, aber nur wenn sie als veranderbar aufgefaBt wird."

His Epic Theater is based on the premise that society can be

changed and that the theater can contribute to the realization

of this goal. In his early essays, Durrenmatt seems to share

Brecht’s confidence in the theater as a socio-critical insti­

tution. When asked by Horst Bienek in 1961, however, whether he believes "daB ein Dichter die Welt verandern kann, sie wenigstens beeinflussen, wenigstens beunruhigen," he replies

soberly: "Beunruhigen im besten, beeinflussen im seltensten

Falle--verandern nie" (109). As a result, he releases the theater from any ideological commitment. The dramatist must

remain an "Anarchist" (106). "Ist die Forderung einmal fallen-

gelassen worden, die Welt des Theaters und die Wirklichkeit

miiBten ubereinstimmen, ist eine neue Freiheit erreicht," he

writes in "Standortsbestimmung zu Frank V." (185). But

Durrenmatt also realizes that this new freedom brings with it

the danger "ins Leere zu stoBen, sich im bloB Asthetischen

oder bloB Geistreichen zu verlieren" (St 185), and he emphat­

ically distances himself from the aesthetic self-sufficiency

of the Theater of the Absurd: "Das Absurde umschlieBt nichts"

(St 186). There must be a relationship between theater and

reality. Hence, although he previously asserted that reality

cannot be represented on the stage, Durrenmatt now insists:

•"Die Fiktion muB auch die Realitat in sich schlieBen, die

'mogliche Welt' muB die 'wirkliche Welt' in sich enthalten"

(St 186) .

Diirrenmatt is attempting to steer a middle course between

what he regards as the ideological dramaturgy of Schiller and

Brecht, which he terms a "Dramaturgie vom Zwecke her," and

the aesthetic remoteness of the Theater of the Absurd a la

Ionesco (which he dubs a "Dramaturgie vom Einzelnen her"

(A 219)). In "Aspekte des dramaturgischen Denkens" (1972) he 110 espouses a compromise form, which he calls a "Dramaturgie vom

Stoffe her" (228). The dramatist "vom Stoffe her" draws his material from the real world, but he remains ideologically

uncommitted. "Der einzige Platz, der ihm zukommt, ist der 2 9 zwischen Stuhl und Bank." Rather than proceed from a theory

about the world, he is concerned only with the effective drama­

tization of the fable. Unencumbered by ideology, the "Drama­

turgie vom Stoffe her" preserves the elemental naivete of the 30 theater. "Sie ist . . . die Dramaturgie jener Dramatiker,

die im Stoffe selbst den objektiven Gegenstand der Dramatik

erblicken, den sie in ein Symbol der Wirklichkeit verwandeln

(nicht in eine Allegorie), in ein Gleichnis, das seinem Wesen

nach nicht eindeutig, sondern mehrdeutig ist, das nicht ein

Problem, sondern mehrere stellt" (A 229-230). Although he

mentions a "Dramaturgie vom Stoffe her" for the first time in

1972 , the idea has pervaded Diirrenmatt's theoretical writings

from the beginning. It is a re-formulation of the "Einfall"-

dramaturgy which he described in "Anmerkung zur Komodie" (1952)

and "Theaterprobleme (1954). The "Einfall," it will be remem­

bered, is the germinal thematic material from which the entire

drama develops. In 197 2 Durrenmatt writes: "Damit wird der

Stoff entscheidend, der Einfall, der den Stoff entdeckt oder

erschafft, die Technik, Stoffe zu erfinden . . . Schreiben

wird zu einer Gehorsamkeit dem Stoffe gegeniiber" (A 230-231).

As we have seen from his plays, Diirrenmatt's outlook has

become increasingly skeptical since he first dis.cussed his Ill theory of comedy in the early fifties. When he approaches the problem again in the sixties, his pessimistic outlook strongly influences his observations. He reiterates his basic position once more in the "21 Punkte zu den Physikern" of

1962, the first of which proclaims: "Ich gehe nicht von einer 31 These, sondern von einer Geschichte aus." For Diirrenmatt's purposes, "Geschichte" is nearly synonomous with "Stoff" or

"Einfall." He now attempts to define this dramaturgy more

closely. Whereas he had previously described the "Einfall" merely as a central thematic idea from which the comedy de­

velops, his skepticism now prescribes the direction which this

central idea is to take. The second and third "Punkte zu den

Physikern" read: "1. Geht man von einer Geschichte aus, muE

sie zu Ende gedacht werden. 2. Eine Geschichte ist dann zu

Ende gedacht, wenn sie ihre schlimmst-mogliche Wendung genom- 32 men hat." Five years later, in "Dramaturgische Uberlegungen

zu den Wiedertciufern" (1967), he establishes the formal con­

nection to comedy. "Die schlimmstmogliche Wendung, die eine

Geschichte nehmen kann," he writes, "ist die Wendung in die 3 3 Komodie." Stressing the significance of the plot itself,

he describes this form as a "Komodie der Handlung" (W 172);

it is a comedy "vom Stoffe her." The comic originates not in

the dramatis personae, but in the fable itself. The charac­

ters are "komisch allein durch ihr Geschick" (W 164), "Wird

die Komddie zum Welttheater," he writes, "braucht nur noch

die Handlung 'komisch' zu sein, die Gestalten sind im 112

Gegensatz zu ihr oft nicht nur ’nichtkomisch', sondern tragisch"

(VI 171). He adds: "Liegt der Sinn einer tragischen Handlung darii., die Grofte des Helden aufzuzeigen, wird die Handlung dadurch irrelevant, so wird eine Handlung dann komisch, wenn sie auffallt, wenn sie wichtig wird, wenn die Gestalten durch die Handlung ihren Sinn erhalten, nur durch sie interpretiert werden konnen. Die komische Handlung ist die paradoxe Hand­ lung, eine Handlung wird dann paradox, 'wenn sie zu Ende ge­ dacht wird'" (W 171-172). For Durrenmatt, the world itself is a paradox, "ein Ratsel an Unheil." Both in his essays and in his plays he increasingly regards the individual as a vic­ tim of chaotic forces beyond his control. When he revises his theory of comedy in 1962 and 1967, his perception of the individual as the victim of a paradoxical world occupies a central position. In the "Komodie der Handlung," the chaotic world itself becomes the central dramatic agent--to the detri­ ment of the increasingly ineffectual hero. Durrenmatt demon­

strates this vividly in his "dramaturgische Oberlegungen" of

1967 by means of a hypothetical dramatic scenario on the

demise of the English explorer Robert Falcon Scott in Antarctica.

Shakespeare, he writes, would have depicted Scott's "tragischer

Untergang" (W 162) as the result of a character flaw; "bei

Brecht," he continues, "ware die Expedition aus wirtschaftlichen

Griinden und Klassendenken gescheitert . . . bei Beckett wSre

der Vorgang auf das Ende reduziert, Endspiel, letzte Konfron-

tation, schon in einen Eisblock verwandelt, sSfSe Scott anderen Eisblocken gegeniiber . . (W 162). Yet another dramaturgy,

Diirrenmatt maintains, could depict Scott as the victim of a paradoxical turn of events: "Doch ware auch eine Dramatik denkbar, die Scott beim Einkaufen der fiir die Expedition benotigten Lebensmittel aus Versehen in einen Kiihlraum ein- schlosse und in ihm erfrieren lieBe" (VJ 163). Durrenmatt sees this form realized in the "Komodie der Handlung." The paradoxical turn of events is dramaturgically realized in the obligatory "schlimmst-mogliche Wendung" of the fable. The individual is no longer a hero, but the victim of a chaotic environment. The "Dramaturgie vom Stoffe her" has become a

"Dramaturgie des Opfers." "Denn der Mensch muB sich erst bewuBt werden, daB er ein Opfer ist," Diirrenmatt writes in the essay "Zwei Dramaturgien?" "Der Mensch ist nicht frei, er

sollte frei sein, ein Unterschied, und es gibt nur ein sinn- volles Handeln: jenes auf diese Freiheit hin. Auch die

Opfer sind 'komisch', weil es unmenschlich ist, Opfer sein zu miissen, weil die Opfer dadurch, daB sie Opfer sind, von dem

getrennt sind, was sie sein konnten: Menschen. Darum gibt

es heute vielleicht doch nur eine Dramaturgie: jene der 34 Komodie. Leider."

Ill Metatheater: Escape into the Self

Diirrenmatt's plays and his theoretical observations both

bear witness to his growing pessimism. Increasingly, he sees

the individual as the hapless victim of a malevolent and un­

predictable world. The individual becomes a marionette in a 114

script dictated by a hostile environment. One result of this outlook is the "Komodie der Handlung," in which the chaotic world takes the stage as the "schlimmst-mogliche Wendung."

In the "Komodie der Handlung," the world itself appears as

the final, inexorable dramatist.

But the "Komodie der Handlung" is not the only result of

Diirrenmatt's outlook. His skepticism is also responsible for

his turn to metatheater. Reflecting the skepticism of their

author, Diirrenmatt's meta-heroes are alienated from their tra­

ditional historical, mythological, or social environments.

As a result, they retreat inward and become increasingly self-

conscious. They reject the script imposed upon them by soci­

ety. These characters have the consciousness of a playwright

as well as that of a character, and (except for Hercules)

they all succeed in dramatizing themselves in a self-authored

script in defiance of their traditional roles. Each employs

role-playing as a tactic. Romulus casts himself in the role

of a clown in order to condemn the Roman Empire, and Mobius

performs the role of a mental patient in order to save man

from destruction. Bockelson dramatizes himself as a prophet

and a king in order to avoid confronting reality at all.

Diirrenmatt’s perception of the paradoxical world as the

ultimate dramatist in the "Komddie der Handlung," and his per­

ception of the individual as a dramatist in metatheater are

thus parallel phenomena. Both are products of the same skep­

tical outlook. The more menacing and inescapable the world 115 appears, the more self-conscious the individual becomes, and the more likely he is to discard his social role and dramatize himself in his own script. In his metaplays, Durrenmatt docu­ ments the confrontation between these two dramatic forces.

Romulus der Grofie (1948; 1957; 1961; 1964)35

Diirrenmatt's first metaplay is set in the year 476 A.D. , the date traditionally accepted to mark the fall of the Roman

Empire. The consciousness of the characters surrounding

Romulus, the last Roman emperor, is dictated by their his­ torical environment. They perceive themselves as Roman sub­

jects and their behavior is governed by absolute loyalty to the state. Like the figures in Frisch's theatrical Seville,

they do not reflect on their roles. They unquestioningly

espouse the traditional Roman virtues of patriotism and hero­

ism. "Unsere unbedingte Liebe zum Vaterland hat Rom groft

gemacht" (K I, 54), Romulus' daughter Rea maintains. "Wir

mussen das Notige tun," says Amilian, who has spent three

years in Germanic captivity and is still prepared to make any

sacrifice for his country. "Unsere Schande wird Italien fut-

tern, durch unsere Schmach wird es wieder zu Kraften kommen"

(K I, 43). By contrast, Romulus' behavior in the first two

acts is decidedly unpatriotic. Indeed, he does everything in

his power to sabotage the attempts of his compatriots to

organize Rome's defenses against the advancing Germanic armies.

He refuses to receive the cavalry officer who has ridden "zwei

Tage und zwei NSchte" (K I, 15) to deliver an urgent military 116 message and sends him instead to bed. "Man soli von mir nicht sagen diirfen, ich hatte jemals den Schlaf eines Menschen un- notigerweise gestdrt" (K I, 18), he says laconically. More­ over, he discards Rome’s last chance for survival by forbid­ ding his daughter to marry the entrepreneur CMsar Rupf. "Das romische Imperium verkaufe ich ihm auf der Stelle fur eine

Handvoll Sesterzen," he tells his wife, "aber es fallt mir nicht ein, meine Tochter zu verschachern" (K I, 30). Romulus' behavior is not in keeping with the traditional role of emperor. It therefore brings him into conflict with his com­ patriots. "Man nennt mich Julia die Landesmutter, und ich bin stolz auf diesen Ehrentitel," the empress tells him in act I. "Und nun will ich auch als Landesmutter zu dir reden.

Du sitzest den ganzen Tag beim Fruhstfick, du interessierst dich nur fur deine Huhner, du empfangst den Eilboten nicht, du weigerst dich, das Land zu mobilisieren, du ziehst nicht

gegen den Feind, du willst deine Tochter nicht dem geben, der uns allein retten kann. Was willst du denn eigentlich?"

(K I, 31).

Unlike his fellow Romans, Romulus is self-conscious. He

is aware of his historical role. "Als Landesvater bin ich

vielleicht Roms letzter Kaiser und nehme schon aus diesem

Grunde eine etwas trostlose Stellung in der Weltgeschichte

ein," he realizes. "Ungtinstig komme ich auf alle FSlle weg"

(K I, 18). He understands that the fall of the Roman Empire

is inevitable and that the course of history cannot be averted. 117

For Romulus, the traditional Roman virtues of patriotism and heroism have become anachronistic. Once an integral part of

Rome's glorious past, they have now become empty cliches.

"Rom ist langst gestorben," he tells the cavalry officer.

"Du opferst dich einem Toten, du kdmpfst fur einen Schatten, du lebst fttr ein zerfallenes Grab. Geh schlafen, Prafekt, die heutige Zeit hat dein Keldentum in eine Pose verwandelt!"

(K I, 32). Rome is doomed and resistance is therefore sense­ less. "Wenn wir uns wehren, wird unser Untergang nur bluti- ger," he insists. "Das mag grandios sein, doch wozu? Man

steckt eine Welt nicht in Brand, die schon verloren ist"

(K I, 48-49). But this is not the only reason for Romulus' refusal to defend himself and his country. The Roman Empire, he maintains, has lost the moral right to exist. "Ich be-

zweifle nicht die Notwendigkeit des Staates," he assures the

empress, "ich bezweifle nur die Notwendigkeit unseres Staates,

Er ist ein Weltreich geworden und damit eine Einrichtung, die

offentlich Mord, Plunderung, Unterdriickung und Brandschatzung

auf Kosten der andern Volker betrieb, bis ich gekommen bin" 3 6 (K I, 51). Justice demands the fall of the Roman Empire,

Romulus tells Amilian:

Nicht ich habe mein Reich verraten, Rom hat sich selbst verraten. Es kannte die Wahrheit, aber es wShlte die Gewalt, es kannte die Menschlichkeit, aber es wShlte die Tyrannei. . . . Rom ist schwach ge- . worden, eine taumelnde Greisin, doch seine Schuld ist nicht abgetragen, und seine Verbrechen sind nicht getilgt, Ober Nacht ist die Zeit angebrochen. Die Flviche seiner Opfer haben sich erfiillt. 118

. . . Wir haben fremdes Blut vergossen, nun miissen wir mit dem eigenen zuriick- zahlen. . . . Weiche nicht vor meiner Majest&t zuriick, die sich vor dir erhebt, mit der uralten Schuld unserer Geschichte iibergossen, schrecklicher noch als dein Leib. Es geht urn die Gerechtigkeit, auf die wir getrunken haben. Gib Antwort auf meine Frage: Haben wir noch das Recht, uns zu wehren? Haben wir noch das Recht, mehr zu sein als ein Opfer? (K I, 60-61).

Romulus is too self-conscious to blindly accept the role im­ posed upon him by tradition. Like Don Juan, he rejects his traditional role in favor of a new one. Not patriotism, but absolute justice is the script he has chosen for his life.

He sees himself not as Rome’s emperor, but as Pome's judge.

"Du bist Roms Verrater!" the empress accuses him. "Nein," he replies, "ich bin Roms Richter" (K I, 52).

Understandably, Romulus’ countrymen have become increas­ ingly hostile toward their emperor. The first act ends with the line: "Rom hat einen schandlichen Kaiser!" (K I, 32); the second concludes: "Dieser Kaiser muft weg!" (K I, 46).

But Romulus remains steadfast. Like Don Juan, he withdraws more and more into himself, and his outlook becomes increas­ ingly subjective. Romulus' egocentricity becomes evident in the third act, where he confounds his assassins by describing himself as the light upon which they depend for their very existence. "Ich stiitzte mich nicht auf eure Macht. . , . Ich bin frei," he tells them. "Ich habe mit euch nichts zu schaf- fen. Ihr seid nichts als Motten, die um mein Licht tanzen, nichts als Schatten, die untergehen, wenn ich nicht mehr 119 scheine. (Die Verschwarer weichen vor ihm an die Wand zuriick)"

(K I, 60). Convinced of his moral superiority, Romulus takes the offensive. "Ihr glaubtet zu einen Wehrlosen zu gehen," he tells the conspirators, "nun springe ich euch an mit den

Tatzen der Wahrheit und packe euch mit den Zahnen der Gerech­ tigkeit. Nicht ich bin angegriffen, ich greife euch an, nicht ich bin angeklagt, ich klage euch an. Wehrt euch!" (K I, 61).

Romulus' use of this leonine metaphor in reference to himself betrays his exaggerated conception of his own position. He portrays himself in a heightened, super-human context. Truth and justice are personified as personal weapons which he alone can wield and, by implication, in whose name he alone

is qualified to act. Confronted with such extreme subjectiv­

ity, the claims of objective reality must invariably seem

insignificant. When the empress maintains, "Entweder bist du wahnsinnig oder die Welt," Romulus retorts: "Ich habe mich

fiir das letztere entschieden" (K I, 51). Convinced that his

outlook alone is valid, he ruthlessly attempts to subject the world to his script. In the name of justice, Romulus allows

his own people to be destroyed:

Amilian: Ich sah die Manner hingemetzelt, die Frauen geschandet und die Kinder verhungert.

f • • Romulus: Der Kaiser zog die Hand von seinem Volke zuriick. Amilian: Du weiiit von den Leiden deines Volkes und hSltst deine Mahlzeit. Romulus: Der Kaiser lieJJ seine Untertanen fahren. Amilian: Rom ist gefallen, und du schlMfst! Romulus: Der Kaiser iiberliefi das Reich seinen Feinden (K I, 45). 120

Although he opposes Romulus, Amilian, too, is acting in the name of justice. He knows that if Romulus does nothing to repel the invaders, the Roman people will have suffered in vain. Romulus realizes that Amilian's claim to justice is a legitimate one, and he is therefore the only Roman whom the 3 7 emperor takes seriously. "Ich will in dir das groSe, letzte

Argument gegen den sehen, der sich wie ich nicht wehrt," he tells him, "den Menschen, der immer wieder geschandet wird, das tausendfach besudelte Opfer der Macht" (K I, 60). But

Romulus is too self-conscious to tolerate any deviation from his script. The collective guilt of the Roman Empire out­ weighs the individual sacrifices of its members. . In the name of absolute justice, Romulus remains unmoved. "Was soil der

Kaiser zu deinen Wunden sagen, thronend liber den Kadavern der eigenen und der fremden Sohne, uber Hekatomben von Opfern, die Kriege zu Roms Ehre und wilde Tiere zu Roms Vergnugen vor seine Fiifie schwemmten?" (K I, 61), he asks.

Romulus realizes that, with or without his assistance, the fall of the Roman Empire is a foregone conclusion. "Both historically and according to the play Romulus neither delayed nor accelerated the march of events," Murray Peppard observes.

"Perhaps at best, reckoning generously, he accelerated the 3 8 fall of Rome by a few years." Why then does he do nothing to alleviate the suffering of his subjects, devoting his life

instead to hastening an historical event which he himself realizes is inevitable? The historical situation demands 121 that Romulus, as the last Roman emperor, play a passive role.

But Romulus is too egocentric to be the pawn of history.

Like Don Juan, he refuses to accept a role imposed upon him by an external source. Romulus has the consciousness of a dramatist. He sees himself at the center of the historical process and attempts to manipulate events according to his own script. But while refusing to protect his subjects from the invaders, Romulus has made himself responsible for many deaths, including those of his own family. He realizes that

in the name of justice he too must die. Despite his condemna­ tion of heroism, his assertion that "wer so aus dem letzten

Loch pfeift wie wir alle, kann nur noch Komodien verstehen"

(K I, 19) and his claim to be "ein untragischer Mensch" (K I,

47), Romulus has cast himself in the hero's role of a "tragic" drama. He sees the fall of the Roman Empire not only as the

end of an epoch, but also as the finale of his personal

script. "Die Germanen werden mich toten," he predicts. "Ich

habe immer mit diesem Tode gerechnet. Das ist mein Geheimnis.

Ich o'pfere Rom, indem ich mich selber opfere" (K I, 55). But

before he can dramatize himself as a hero, Romulus must first

dramatize himself as a clown. His irresponsible behavior,

especially in the first two acts, is a role designed to hasten

the end of the empire:

Julia: Du hast die Rettung des Imperiums bewuftt sabotiert. Romulus: Bewuftt. Julia: Du hast den Zyniker gespielt und den ewig verfressenen Hanswurst, nur urn uns in den RUcken zu fallen. 122

Romulus: Du kannst es auch so formulieren (K I, 51).

Thus, whereas Don Juan had dramatized himself in order to escape the role imposed upon him by theatrical Seville,

Romulus employs role-playing as a means of subjecting society 3 9 to his will. He is an "als Narr verkleideter Weltenrichter."

In contrast to Don Juan, however, the role-playing in Romulus is not immediately apparent. In the notes to the play

Diirrenmatt writes: "Das Wesen des Kaisers darf sich erst im UQ dritten Akt enthullen." As a result, the dramatic function of Romulus' clowning in the first two acts remains obscure.

Manfred Durzak speaks of "verabsolutierte Gags."14'*' Moreover, since the discrepancy between actor and role is not visible,

Romulus' role-playing does not function as a Verfremdungseffekt.

The last scene of Romulus' script is disrupted in act IV

by Odoaker, who does not play the part which Romulus had

anticipated. Odoaker has no intention of executing Romulus.

Impressed by his humanity, he plans to surrender himself and

his people to.the emperor. In so doing, he hopes to deliver

the Teutons from "die blutige Grofie Theoderichs" (K I, 73).

Confronted with this unexpected turn of events, Romulus is

deprived of the moral justification of his actions. "Ich gab

mir das Recht, Roms Richter zu sein, weil ich bereit war, zu

sterben. . . . Ich lieB das Blut meines Volkes flieflen, indem

ich es wehrlos machte, weil ich selbst mein Blut vergieBen

wollte," he tells Odoaker. "Und nun soli ich leben. . . .

Und nun soil ich als der dastehen, der sich allein retten 123 konnte. . . . Es ist alles absurd geworden, was ich getan habe.

Tote mich, Odoaker" (K I, 72). Odoaker*s surrender is the

"schlimmst-mogliche Wendung" of Romulus' life. His drama has

been upstaged by an unpredictable world. Romulus' self-con­

sciousness forced him to see himself at the center of events and to attempt to impose his script upon history. He now realizes that his self-dramatization was a theatrical game which had little to do with the real world. "Die Wirklichkeit

hat unsere Ideen korrigiert" (K I, 7 5), he now admits. Both

Romulus and Odoaker are thus forced to perform roles which

neither had reckoned with:

Mein lieber Odoaker, ich wollte Schicksal spielen, und du wolltest das deine ver- meiden, nun ist es unser Schicksal gewor­ den, gescheiterte Politiker darzustellen. Wir glauben, die Welt aus unseren Handen fallen lassen zu konnen, du dein Germanien und ich mein Rom, nun mUssen wir uns mit den Trummern beschaftigen. . . . Wir lieften uns von zwei Gespenstern bestimmen, denn wir haben keine Macht iiber das, was war, und iiber das, was sein wird. Macht haben wir nur viber die Gegenwart, an die wir nicht gedacht haben und an der wir nun beide scheitern (K I, 74).

Romulus realizes that their actions constituted a foolish

escape from their responsibilities as rulers. "Er hat einzu-

sehen, daft nicht eine absolute Gerechtigkeit, sondern allein

die Eindammung des unausrottbaren Unrechts die Aufgabe des 4 2 Herrschers sein kann," notes Karl Pestalozzi. As retribu­

tion for his guilt, Romulus accepts his retirement. "Du muflt

dich nun in dein Schicksal fiigen," Odoaker tells him. "Es

gibt nichts anderes" (K I, 73). For his part, Odoaker agrees 124 to govern the Kingdom of Italy to the best of his ability.

But both realize that Theoderich’s brutality will eventually triumph and that their attempts, "Sinn in den Unsinn zu legen"

(K I, 75), will be in vain. Nevertheless, they agree to act

"as if" their lives had a purpose. They realize that they have assumed roles in a farce, but they know, too, that these are the only roles they can perform in a chaotic world.

"Machen wir es schnell," Romulus tells the new kind of Italy.

"Spielen wir noch einmal, zum letzten Mai, Komodie. Tun wir

so, als ginge die Rechnung hienieden auf, als siegte der Geist iiber die Materie Mensch" (K I, 7 5).

The unpredictable world has thus proved itself to be the

superior dramatist, and Romulus has no choice but to submit

to its script. But despite his defeat, he is able to assume

a new role which will give his life a meaning. In his next

metaplay, Diirrenmatt is less optimistic.

Die Physiker (1961)

Like Romulus, the physicist Johann Wilhelm Mobius is

alienated from the society in which he lives. Mdbius realizes

that his research can have destructive results for humanity,

"Was wir denken, hat seine Folgen," he says in act II. "Es

war meine Pflicht, die Auswirkungen zu studieren, die meine

Feldtheorie und meine Gravitationslehre haben wiirden. Das

Resultat ist verheerend. Neue, unvorstellbare Energien wdrden

freigesetzt und eine Technik ermdglicht, die jeder Phantasie

spottet, falls meine Untersuchung in die HSnde der Menschen 125 fiele" (K II, 338). Mobius perceives a tragic discrepancy between the advanced state of scientific development and man­ kind's ability to use sophisticated technology intelligently.

"Wir sind in unserer Wissenschaft an die Grenzen des Erkenn- baren gestofien. . . . Wir haben das Ende unseres Weges er- reicht," he maintains. "Aber die Menschheit ist noch nicht so weit. . . . Es gibt fur uns Physiker nur noch die Kapitu- lation vor der Wirklichkeit. Sie ist uns nicht gewachsen.

Sie geht an uns zugrunde" (K II, 342). As a physicist in modern society, Mobius knows that he would be the pawn in a world-wide power struggle. He would become the prisoner of a political system, which would exploit his knowledge not for the benefit of mankind, but for its own political advantage.

Contemporary society does not offer the physicist the pros­ pect of freedom, but the guarantee of captivity. "Jeder preist mir eine andere Theorie an," Mobius tells the secret agents Kilton and Eisler in act II, "doch die Realitat, die man mir bietet, ist dieselbe: ein GefMngnis" (K II, 341).

Mobius is too self-conscious to play the part which society

dictates. Like Don Juan and Romulus, he has the consciousness

of a playwright. He therefore rejects his role as a physicist

in society and assumes a new one. His new script is dictated

not by political opportunism, but by a sense of responsibility

toward his fellow man. In order to save mankind from itself,

Mobius withdraws from the world and sequesters himself in an

asylum: 12 6

Es gibt Risiken, die man nicht eingehen darf: Der Untergang der Menschheit ist ein solches. Was die Welt mit den Waffen anrichtet, die sie schon besitzt, wissen wir, was sie mit jenen anrichten wtirde, die ich ermogliche, konnen wir uns denken. Dieser Einsicht habe ich mein Handeln untergeordnet. Ich war arm. Ich besaft eine Frau und drei Kinder. Auf der Uni- versitat winkte Ruhm, in der Industrie Geld. Beide Wege waren zu gefahrlich. . . . Die Verantwortung zwang mir einen anderen Weg auf. Ich lieft meine akade- mische Karriere fahren, die Industrie fallen und uberlieB meine Familie ihrem Schicksal. Ich wahlte die Narrenkappe (K II, 341-342).

Just as Romulus fashioned himself to be the judge of his world, Mobius sees himself as the savior of his. "Entweder bleiben wir im Irrenhaus, oder die Welt wird eines," he tells his comrades. "Entweder loschen wir uns im Gedachtnis der

Menschen aus, oder die Menschheit erlischt" (K II, 343). And whereas the emperor attempted to subject the world to his will by assuming the role of a clown, Mobius would impose his script upon society by dramatizing himself as a mental patient.

Mobius retreats into his own world. "Er puppt sich in seine

Welt ein" (K II, 306), observes Fraulein Doktor Mathilde von

Zahnd. Convinced of the morality of his actions, his outlook becomes increasingly subjective. Despite his sanctimonious claim: "Die Folgen meinerseits sind unwichtig, nur das Leben aufterhalb der Anstalt zShlt" (K II, 315), like Romulus, M5bius does not shrink from sheer ruthlessness in imposing his script upon the world. Under the cover of his role, he strangles his nurse after he learns that she has just secured his release 127 from the asylum. "Ich habe getotet, damit nicht ein noch schrecklicheres Morden anhebe" (K II, 343), he states in jus­ tification of the deed.

Mobius is not the only character in the play who engages in role-playing. Obviously, Newton and Einstein are roles performed by the mental patients Georg Beutler and Ernst

Heinrich Ernesti. But the latter, too, are aliases assumed by the physicists Alec Jasper Kilton and Joseph Eisler. Their self-dramatization, however, is not the result of self-con­ sciousness. Both have accepted their roles as scientists in society. They have temporarily donned the mask of insanity in the service of two opposing intelligence agencies. As in

Romulus, however, the physicists' role-playing is not immedi­ ately visible as such. Consequently, the dramatic potential 4 3 of the first act is not fully realized. Thus, although

Mobius admits toward the end of the act: "Ich gebe es zu.

Ich spielte den Wahnsinnigen" (K II, 315), the statement does little to clarify the reasons for his brutal dismissal of his family. Moreover, he not only continues to assert his alle­ giance to King Solomon, but like Newton and Einstein he also murders his nurse. Since the physicists' role-playing is not revealed in the first act, the reasons for their behavior are not clear, and the audience is not introduced immediately to

the problematique of the work. The spectators must wait until

the middle of the last act to find out what the play is about.

But even then the problem is verbalized rather than dramatized. 128

The ability of the play to communicate with the audience is largely dependent upon the eloquence of Mobius' arguments in the final act, rather than upon an effective dramatization of the subject matter.

Mobius' arguments, however, are persuasive enough to convince Kilton and Eisler of their moral obligation to hu­ manity. For the sake of the human race, all agree to remain in the asylum and continue to dramatize themselves as mental patients. Their noble intentions are disrupted, however, by

Fraulein Doktor Mathilde von Zahnd. For as the "schlimmst- mogliche Wendung" would have it, she too is a dramatist. As asylum director, she has been able to manipulate the physi­ cists to her own ends. Not only did she copy Mobius' manu­ scripts before he destroyed them, she also orchestrated the murders of the three nurses. "Ich muJSte euch unschadlich machen," she explains. "Durch eure Morde. Ich hetzte die drei Krankenschwestern auf euch. Mit eurem Handeln konnte ich rechnen. Ihr waret bestimmbar wie Automaten und habt getotet wie Henker" (K II, 349). Fraulein Doktor Mathilde von Zahnd is clearly the most successful dramatist in the play. She represents the unpredictable world, the inexorable dramatist without. In contrast to Mobius, her script is governed not by humanitarian ideals, but by political oppor­ tunism. She intends to exploit Mdbius' inventions in order to gain control of the world. "Mein Trust wird herrschen, die

Lander, die Kontinente erobern, das Sonnensystem ausbeuten, 129 nach dem Andromedanebel fahren," she predicts confidently.

"Die Rechnung ist aufgegangen" (K II, 350). ^

Like Romulus, Mobius is thus deprived of the moral jus­ tification of his actions. "Sollen unsere Morde sinnlos werden?" he had asked Kilton and Eisler earlier in the act.

"Entweder haben wir geopfert oder gemordet" (K II, 343). In light of Doktor von Zahnd's coup, Mobius realizes that he is nothing but a common murderer. Schwester Monika's death was an unnecessary and senseless act, for which he now bears the unmitigated guilt. Like Romulus, Mobius is forced to realize:

"Es ist alles absurd geworden, was ich getan habe" (K I, 72).

His attempt to impose his script upon the world proves to have been a vain illusion, and the roles which the physicists as­ sumed in order to save mankind now constitute their prison.

"Ihr seid in euer eigenes Gefangnis gefluchtet" (K II, 350),

Doktor von Zahnd observes with satisfaction. In contrast to

Romulus,■the physicists are unable to give their lives a new meaning and purpose. The must resign themselves to a hopeless future. "Was einmal gedacht wurde, kann nicht mehr

zurtickgenommen werden" (K II, 350), Mobius now realizes. He and his colleagues must continue to dramatize themselves in a

script of which they are no longer the authors and which

threatens to produce precisely those results which they had

sought to avoid. Mobius assumes the role of Solomon, the

personification of scientific knowledge, and paints a bleak

picture of mankind's future: 130

Ich bin Salomo. Ich bin der arme Konig Salomo. Einst war ich unermeBlich reich, weise und gottesfiirchtig. Ob meiner Macht erzitterten die Gewaltigen. Ich war ein Fiirst des Friedens und der Gerech- tigkeit. Aber meine Weisheit zerstorte meine Gottesfurcht, und als ich Gott nicht mehr fiirchtete, zerstorte meine Weisheit meinen Reichtum. Nun sind die Stadte tot, iiber die ich regierte, mein Reich leer, das mir anvertraut worden war, eine blauschimmernde Wiiste, und ir- gendwo urn einen kleinen, gelben, namen- losen Stern kreist, sinnlos, immerzu, die radioaktive Erde (K II, 351-352).

Thus, even more emphatically than in Romulus, the para­ doxical world has asserted itself, in the person of Fraulein

Doktor Mathilde von Zahnd, as the master playwright. The physicists have been outdramatized. They have become help­

less actors in an absurd script. This pessimistic conclusion

is the point of departure for Diirrenmatt' s next metaplay.

Herkules und der Stall des Augias (1962)

To the secondary characters of the play, Hercules is

"ein heldisches, patriotisches Symbol" (K II, 402). Their

perception of him is that of mythological tradition; he is

their "Nationalheld" (K II, 417), the "Sauberer Griechenlands"

(K II, 375). His behavior in the play, however, unambiguously

contradicts this traditional view. Diirrenmatt presents him

for the first time shivering unheroically atop the snow-clad

Mount Olympus, where the famed Erymanthian boar has just

eluded him. More regrettable to Hercules than the escape of

his quarry, however, is the loss of the fifteen thousand

drachmas to be awarded for its capture. Hercules' three 131 previous feats, we discover, were also less impressive than has been traditionally assumed— and considerably less profit­

able than Hercules had hoped. "Die drei ersten Arbeiten, die

ich vermittelt habe, brachten wenig ein," his secretary,

Polybios, admits. "Der Nemeiische Lowe, nach dessen Gewicht

sich das Honorar richtete, erwies sich als ein Balkanzwerg-

berglowe, die Riesenschlange Hydra sackte in den Lernaischen

Siimpfen ab und die Keryneiische Hindin sauste auf Nimmerwie-

dersehen davon" (K II, 365). Hercules' legendary reputation

is thus deflated from the start not only by his failure to

accomplish the traditional tasks, but also because his heroism

has degenerated into a marketable commodity. Durrenmatt's

hero is a "Berufsheld" on the verge of bankruptcy. Already

140 in the radio play of 1954 Hercules is doggedly pursued by

his creditors. His financial bankruptcy symbolizes the bank­

ruptcy of the myth which he personifies: that of the great

individual. For Durrenmatt, Herculean heroism is a thing of

the past. "War doch Napoleon vielleicht der letzte Held im

alten Sinne," he observes in "Theaterprobleme" (199). A de­

construction of the Hercules myth is already the goal of the

radio play. By 1962, Durrenmatt has become more convinced

than ever of the impossibility of heroic accomplishments. The

solidification of his pessimism is mirrored in the stage ver­

sion of Herkules which was written in that year. Reflecting

his author's skepticism, the Hercules of 1962 emphatically

distances himself from his traditional role. In a central 132 scene, not contained in the radio play, Hercules dismantles his own legend and brands himself an anachronism:

Held ist nur ein Wort, das erhabene Vor- stellungen erweckt, die begeistern. In Wirklichkeit bin ich aber nicht ein Wort . . . sondern ein Mann, der aus Zufall eine Eigenschaft bekommen hat, die andere nicht in dem Obermafi besitzen: Ich bin starker als die andern Menschen und darum, weil ich niemand zu ftirchten brauche, gehore ich auch nicht zu den Menschen. Ich bin ein Ungeheuer wie jene Saurier, die ich in den Sumpfen ausrotte. Ihre Zeit ist um, und auch die meine. Ich gehore einer blutigen Welt . . . und tibe ein blutiges Handwerk. Der Tod ist mein Begleiter, den ich mit meinen vergifteten Pfeilen sende, und ich habe viele getotet (K II, ^10).

Hercules has become self-conscious. He diagnoses himself a physical anomaly and denounces his mythological greatness as 47 an illusion. Echoing the sentiments of his author, Hercules

subscribes to a new brand of heroism more in keeping with the

times. His ideal is embodied in the individual who is not

endowed with any superhuman qualities, but who nevertheless

courageously leads a constructive life in the face of adver­

sity. "Denn du sollst einmal einen richtigen Mann lieben,

einen Mann, der ein wirklicher Held ist, der sich fiirchtet,

wie sich die Menschen fiirchten und der seine Furcht uberwin-

det," he tells Augias' daughter Iole, "und du sollst einmal

Sohne und Tochter haben, die den Frieden lieben und die all

die Bestien, mit denen ich mich herumplage, nur noch fur Kin-

dermarchen halten: Dies allein ist menschenwurdig" (K II,

410). 133

Society, however, is not possessed of the same perspicac­

ity as its idol. Most of the other characters continue to perceive Hercules as an omnipotent hero, and he has no choice

but to do his best to accommodate them. "Ich bin ein Morder,

vom Ruhm der Menschen iibertuncht" (K II, 410), he realizes.

Like Don Juan, Hercules has become a victim of the "Bildnis"

imposed upon him by society. The Spaniard's complaint: "Was

bleibt mir andres iibrig . . . als meinem Ruhm zu entsprechen,

Opfer meines Ruhms zu sein-," could also have been uttered by

Hercules. His life as the Greek "Nationalheld" is a role.

And like "el burlador de Sevilla," Hercules owes much of his

fame to his alleged sexual exploits. "Man iibertreibt" (K II,

409), he allows modestly. Nevertheless, his reputation has

preceded him. He attempts to escape it by engaging Kambyses,

the stable boy, to impersonate him for the sake of the Elean

women who visit his tent by night. When Kambyses relinquishes

his post, Hercules complains: "Ich habe mich im eigenen Netz

gefangen. Nun muB ich die Heldenrolle selber spielen, die

mir die Gffentlichkeit vorschreibt. Ich schlafe heute nacht

in meinem Zelt" (K II, 423). Recognizing the theatricality

of his role, Don Juan succeeded in condemning it to the realm

of literature and legend, where it belonged. Hercule's role,

too, is theatrical. Heroic individuals and great accomplish­

ments are elements of literature and myth, but not of reality.

"Das Leben ist keine Dichtung!, meine Damen und Herren,"

Polybios declares. "Gerechtigkeit findet nicht statt; am 134 wenigsten eine poetische; wer etwas bezweckt, erreicht das

Gegenteil, wer sein Recht fordert, kommt urn" (K II, 422).

Hercules, however, is not the dramatist Don Juan was, and he remains a prisoner of his role. He is forced to continue dramatizing himself indefinitely as the Greek national hero.

That this role is a farce is evidenced most clearly by his conspicuous failure to rid Elis of its manure. Even Hercules 48 is no match for the Elean bureaucracy.

Since Romulus der GroJSe, the paradoxical world has as­

sumed an increasingly dominant role in Diirrenmatt's metaplays.

Both Romulus and Mobius were outdramatized by a paradoxical turn of events. But whereas Romulus was able to give his life

a new meaning by assuming a new role, Mobius and the physi­

cists remained slaves to a senseless script. In Herkules

this development reaches its apex. Although he is as self-

conscious as Romulus and Mobius, Hercules never aspires from

actor to playwright. He is stifled by his social role from

beginning to end. The world thus appears as the final, ines­

capable dramatist: the Greek "Nationalheld" has become a

symbolic but ineffectual marionette. Herkules marks a crisis

in Durrenmatt's metaplay production. Faced with an increas­

ingly powerful dramatist from without, the individual has no

choice but to delve further inward. He finds autonomy only

within his imagination. The consequences of this subjectivity

are realized in Diirrenmatt' s final metaplay: 135

Die Wiedertaufer (1967)

Like Herkules, Die WiedertSufer is based on an earlier work. "Die Wiedertaufer stellen eine Begegnung meiner heutigen

Dramatik mit meiner ersten Dramatik dar," Durrenmatt writes in "Dramaturgische Oberlegungen zu den Wiedertaufer." "Es verlockte mich, noch einmal das alte Spiel, bewuBter jetzt, durchzuspielen" (178). In Es; steht geschrieben (1946),

Bockelson debuts as a self-styled prophet who makes no attempt to conceal his ambitions. "Wir gedenken uns so beilaufig zum

Herrn der Erde zu erheben" (K II, 22), he declares. "Es ist mir wenig Zeit gegeben," he says later. "Ich werde als ein

leuchtendes Meteor durch eure Nachte sturzen!" (K II, 23).

Bockelson proclaims himself king of the Anabaptists in Munster

and enjoys a brief but gamesome reign, replete with orgies

and banquets. The revelry is abruptly terminated, however,

as Munster is recaptured by the bishop and his allies, the

princes. Like Knipperdollinck, Bockelson dies on the wheel. 49 The motives for Bockelson's actions are ambiguous. At times,

he seems to be convinced of his heavenly calling: "Der Tag

ist gekommen, den mir der Erzengel geweissagt hat, an dem die

Saat die Scholle bricht und die Frucht zur Erde strebt, Zei-

chen und Wunder geschehen in der Stadt. . . . Also bereitet

sich das Volk, den neuen Propheten zu empfangen" (K II, 56).

The general impression he creates, however, is that of a clever

charlatan who manipulates those around him with an efficiency

worthy of FrSulein Doktor Mathilde von Zahnd. Already in 136

1946, Bockelson is a dramatist. "Ich werde mit den Menschen wie mit leichten Ballen spielen" CK II, 23), he boasts. That his religious conversion is nothing more than a self-serving role is strongly suggested by his theatrical background. He is "Mitglied eines dramatischen Vereins" (K II, 20).

This interpretation may well have been intended by the author, for when he revises the work in 1967, it is precisely this theatricality which assumes a central position. In Die

Wiedertaufer, Bockelson is an actor in search of a stage.

"Ich spielte in den Reichsstadten und Residenzen Deutschlands die groilen Heldenrollen der Weltliteratur und sprach sogar

Seiner Exzellenz, dem Bischof von Miinden, Osnabriick und Munster in Westfalen, Furst von Waldeck, in seiner Sommerresidenz

Iburg vor" (K III, 89), he declares. Having been rejected by the bishop, who dismisses him as "ein dilettantischer Schau- spieler, der sich vergeblich bemuhte, in meiner Truppe ein

Unterkommen zu finden" (K III, 94), Bockelson turns to the stage of religious politics and becomes a "prophet." "Ihr

seid ein Schauspieler geblieben und habt eine neue Rolle ge-

funden," Krechting astutely observes. "Die Rolle meines

Lebens, Bernhard Krechting" (K III, 115), Bockelson replies.

But Bockelson is not only an actor. More than his predecessor

of 1946, he is also a dramatist who successfully manages his

roles to his best advantage. "VerlaBt Euch auf meinen schau-

spielerischen Instinkt," he tells Krechting. "Eine Komodie,

die nur halb gewagt wird, ist schlecht, auch unsere Kombdie 137 mtissen wir ganz wagen" (K III, 115). Bockelson executes his script with elan and becomes king, but the position is hardly more than a lucrative theatrical engagement. Oblivious to the implications of his actions, he places his trust in his

"schauspielerischen Instinkt" and extracts the most from his roles:

Die Hungerjahre, dahingelebt auf kleinen Btihnen/Erfolglos , ausgepf iffen, mit magerer Gage, sind voriiber/Nie nahrte mich die Kunst, bescheiden blofi Zuhalterei/Nun mastet mich Religion und Politik: Doch sitz ich in der Falle/Ich wurde Taufer aus beruflicher Misere . . . Ja wurde aus einem losen Einfall gar ihr Konig./Jetzt, hoi's der Teufel, glauben sie an mich . . . Und die erziirnten Fursten, aufge- schreckt/Weil ihre installierte Ordnung wankt/Verwechseln mich mit meinen Rollen/ Halten mich fur einen blutigen Hero, finsteren Tamerlan/Noch seh ich keinen Ausweg, lafi mich treiben/Wohin mein Spiel mich treibt/Umstellt vom Frommigkeit und grausem Plunder/Es machen alle mit. Das ist das Wunder (K III, 144).

In contrast to the original Bockelson's ambiguous attitude toward religion, the Bockelson of 1967 unabashedly exposes his role as a conscienceless mockery of the Anabaptists and

their attempts to establish their kingdom. "Mit der Christen

schlechtem Gewissen/Hab ich das neue Zion beschissen" (K III,

164), he asserts irreverently. Bockelson denies all values

outside of himself. In the revised version of the famous pas

de deux between the two protagonists, Bockelson's agnosticism

is deliberately emphasized as he mocks Knipperdollinck's

naive faith. "Dem Himmel muft man kommandieren," he tells him

sarcastically. "Brauche ich den Erzengel Gabriel, ein Pfiff, 138 und er flattert hernieder" (K III, 162). For Bockelson, religious enthusiasm is nothing but empty theatrics:

Bockelson: Versuche: Sausle, Gott, sausle! Das niitzt immer. Knipperdollinck: Sausle, Gott, sausle, damit ich getrostet werde! (Starrt nach oben.) Bockelson: Tonte eindrucksvoll. Knipperdollinck: Nichts. Bockelson: Tatsachlich. Nur ein zer- borstenes Biihnendach und ein Mond, der durch die Wolken fegt. Donnere, Allmachtiger, donnere!

• • • Knipperdollinck: Donnere, Allmachtiger, donnere, zerschmettere mich ob meiner Siinden! Bockelson: GroBartig. Wirkte echt ver- zweifelt. Gratuliere. Knipperdollinck: Gott schweigt. (Starrt nach oben.) Bockelson: Was soil er auch antworten? Knipperdollinck: Nichts als eine leere Biihne. Bockelson: Es gibt nichts anderes (K III, 162-163).

Bockelson denies the existence of a transcendental order and

retreats into a self-sufficient aesthetic realm, which he

then accepts as real. Life is nothing but an empty stage on

which to perform his self-authored scripts. God is replaced

by the dramatic imagination. This is clearly the implication

of the Last Judgment parody staged by Knipperdollinck and

Bockelson at the conclusion of their mad dance. Impressed by

Bockelson’s histrionics, the Almighty relinquishes his throne.

Bockelson assumes the role of God himself and presides over

the world's demise:

Bockelson: Am Jiingsten Tag, Konig Bockelson/ Erschien vor Gottes Richterthron 139

Knipperdollinck: Splitternacht und blut- verschmiert/Hat er dem Herrgott vor- rezitiert Bockelson: Die Engel und Cherubim bleich und verdattert/Haben mit machtigen Fliigeln geflattert Knipperdollinck: Beeindruckt vom grausigen Welttheater/Demissionierte der himmlische Vater Bockelson: Engel und Heilige stoben davon Knipperdollinck: Da setzte sich auf Gottes Thron/Der Tauferkonig Bockelson Bockelson: GenoB einen himmlischen Augen- blick lang/Den selbstinszenierten Welt- untergang (K III, 164-165).

This scene documents the literal deification of the self. The subjectivity which characterized the outlooks of Romulus,

Mobius, and Hercules has evolved into total autism. Despite their subjective outlooks, the relationship of Diirrenmatt's

other meta-heroes to society remained intact. For Bockelson,

society is irrelevant. The world is a chaos; it merely pro­

vides the raw material and the empty stage for the caprices

of the autonomous dramatic imagination: "Schabiges, west-

falisches Kaff . . . Entziindet wie ein Biindel Stroh von meiner

Phantasie" (K III, 166). Bockelson's attitude is more skep­

tical than that of any of Durrenmatt's other meta-heroes;

his outlook borders on nihilism. The result is total with­ drawal into the self. Bockelson lives entirely within his roles.

Consequently, he is impervious to the effects of his self­

dramatization on the real world and audaciously expects not

punishment, but accolades for his impressive theatrical per­

formance. "Das Spiel ist aus, ihr Filrsten ohnegleichen/Ich

trug eure Maske bloB, ich war nicht euresgleichen," he 140 announces casually to the victorious princes. "Miinster sei euch und eurer Wut/Noch leben einige. Nun gut/Sie mogen jetzt am Rad verbleichen/Doch ich, der das Spiel euch schuf, der ktihne Denker/Ich erwarte einen Lorbeerkranz und nicht den

Henker" (K III, 166-167). Bockelson is Diirrenmatt's only meta­ hero who outdramatizes the paradoxical world. He accomplishes this, however, at the price of a ruthless subjectivity which leaves death and destruction in its wake. Indeed, Bockelson himself has become the "schlimmst-mogliche VJendung" of the play. "Indem Bockelson zu einem Schauspieler gemacht wird

. . . wird Bockelson ' zu einem' schlimmstmoglichen Fall"

(W 174), Durrenmatt notes. The author seems to realize that total withdrawal into the self is as dubious a response to the paradoxical world as total capitulation. Bockelson's theat­ rical caprices are as chaotic and destructive as the world itself. The deification of the autonomous dramatic imagina­ tion, however, is an inevitable consequence of increasing alienation and self-consciousness. It is unlikely that the author will be able to offer a more productive response to reality until he has overcome his own pessimism.

IV Conclusion

From the beginning, Diirrenmatt viewed the world as a

senseless chaos, "ein Ratsel an Unheil." Convinced that

social and political reform are impossible, he turned inward.

The individual can find a meaning and purpose in life only through a belief in a higher order, recognition of a moral 141 principle, or through a stoic commitment to constructive activity within the limited sphere of his influence. As

Diirrenmatt's outlook becomes more pessimistic, however, the attainment of this goal becomes more illusory. In his plays, the individual appears increasingly as the victim of an unpre­ dictable world. He seems to be a helpless marionette in a script dictated by a hostile environment. In the "Komodie der Handlung," the unpredictable world takes the stage as the

"schlimmst-mogliche Wendung." The world itself becomes the ultimate dramatist.

Diirrenmatt's pessimism finds formal expression not only in the "Komodie der Handlung," but also in metatheater. The increasingly menacing dramatist from without is opposed by an increasingly self-assertive dramatist from within. Like their author, the heroes of Diirrenmatt's metaplays are alienated from the society in which they live. Consequently, they with­ draw into themselves. They reject their given roles and dramatize themselves in their own scripts. Each has the

consciousness of a dramatist as well as that of a character.

Diirrenmatt's view of the paradoxical world as a dramatist in

the "Komodie der Handlung" and his view of the individual as

a dramatist in metatheater are thus parallel developments,

both inevitable consequences of his skepticism.

Diirrenmatt's first two meta-heroes, Romulus and Mobius,

postulate a subjective order to counter what they regard as

the disorder of reality. They attempt to impose their script 142 upon society for the sake of a moral principle. Both are defeated by an unpredictable world. But whereas Romulus is able to give his life a meaning and purpose despite his de­ feat, Mobius remains a prisoner of his role. The fate of

Hercules begins where that of Mobius ended. Unable to dis­ card his role and become a playwright, Hercules remains a marionette in a script dictated by society. He capitulates to a hostile environment. The final consequences of the

success achieved by the dramatist from without are realized

in Die Wiedertaufer, where the implications of the three

previous metaplays are carried to their logical conclusions.

Bockelson is the most skeptical of all Diirrenmatt's meta­

heroes. He is an outspoken agnostic who accepts the world as

a chaos. As a result, he seeks refuge within himself. Whereas

Romulus and Mobius employed self-dramatization as a means of

imposing a moral principle upon society, Bockelson employs

role-playing as a means of achieving total freedom. He lives

entirely within his imagination. Within the context of

Diirrenmatt's metaplays, Bockelson incorporates the only suc­

cessful response to an increasingly threatening world: total

escape into the self. It remains to be seen whether the

author can provide a more acceptable alternative. 143

Footnotes

1Die Stadt. Prosa I-1V (Ziirich; Verlag der Arche, 1952),

^Die Stadt, p. 20

^Die Stadt, p. 197.

14 "Theaterprobleme" in Theater-Schriften und Reden (Zurich: Verlag der Arche, 1966), p. 123. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as Tp, followed by the page number.

5 See Urs Jenny, Friedrich Durrenmatt, 4th ed., Friedrichs Dramatiker des Welttheaters, 6 (Velber bei Hannover: Friedrich Verlag, 1970), p. 11.

0 "Vom Sinn der Dichtung in unserer Zeit" in Theater- Schriften und Reden, p. 59. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as VS, followed by the page number.

^"Friedrich Schiller" in Theater-Schriften und Reden, p. 228. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as S, followed by the page number.

g "Ansprache anlSfilich der Verleihung des Kriegsblinden- Preises" in Theater-Schriften und Reden, pp. 48-49.

9 "Ansprache anlSMich der Verleihung des Kriegsblinden- Preises," p. 48. Cf. Karl Pestalozzi: "Brecht richtet sich an den Ange- horigen einer Klasse, Diirrenmatt an den Einzelnen als Indi- viduum. Wollen Brechts Stiicke Aufforderungen sein zur Veran- derung der Welt, so die Diirrenmatts zum Umdenken des Einzelnen in bezug auf sich selbst." "Friedrich Diirrenmatt" in Deutsche Literatur im 20. Jahrhundert. Strukturen und Gestalten, ed. Otto Mann and Wolfgang Rothe, 5th ed. CBern: Francke Verlag, 1967), II, 400.

"^Horst Bienek, WerkstattgesprSche mit Schriftstellern (Munich: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1962), pp. 102-103. 144

For a more detailed discussion of Durrenmatt*s dramatic characters see Ulrich Profitlich, Friedrich Durrenmatt. Komo- dienbegriff und Komodienstruktur. Eine Einfiihrung, Sprache und Literatur, 86 (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer Verlag, 1973), esp. chapters 3, 4, 5. For a general discussion of Diirrenmatt's plays see especially the following: Christian Markus Jauslin, Friedrich Durrenmatt. Zur Struktur seiner Dramen (Zurich: Juris-Verlag, 1964); the article by Karl Pestalozzi cited above; Armin Arnold, Friedrich Durrenmatt, Kopfe des XX. Jahrhunderts, Vol. 57 (Berlin: Colloquium Verlag, 1969); Hurray B. Peppard, Friedrich Durrenmatt, Twayne's World Authors Series, 87 (New York: Twayne Publishers, Inc., 1969); Urs Jenny, cited above; and Manfred Durzak, Durrenmatt, Frisch, Weifi. Deutsches Drama der Gegenwart zwischen Kritik und Utopie (Stuttgart: Reclam Verlag, 197 2).

12 The abbreviations K I, K II, and K III, followed by page numbers, refer to the following editions of Diirrenmatt's plays: Komodien _I, 7th ed. (Ziirich: Verlag der Arche, 196 5); Komodien II und friihe Stiicke (Ziirich: Verlag der Arche, 1963); Komodien III (Ziirich: Verlag der Arche, 1970).

13 Jacob Steiner extends this theme to Diirrenmatt's entire dramatic work. He sees the "Zusammenprall von Ideen mit Menschen" as the "Grundstruktur der Diirrenmattschen Komodie." "Die Komodie Diirrenmatts," Deutschunterricht, 15(1963 ), Heft 6, 94.

14 "21 Punkte zu den Physikern" in Theater-Schriften und Reden, p. 194.

15 . Cf. Arnold: "Er miiftte sagen: Wer glaubt, kann sich mit dem Leben abfinden, indem er nicht in der Wirklichkeit, sondern in der Illusion lebt" (32).

1 6 "Anmerkung zum Besuch der alten Dame" in Theater-Schriften und Reden, p. 182.

17 . Petalozzi, p. 394. The religious orientation is also stressed by Werner Oberle, "GrundsStzliches zum Werk Friedrich Diirrenmatts" in Der unbequeme Diirrenmatt, Theater unserer Zeit, Vol. 4 (Basel: Basilius Pressed 1962), pp. 9-29. See also Kurt J. Fickert, who views Diirrenmatt as a proponent of the "new morality." It is Diirrenmatt's intention, Fickert writes, "to deal at length with man's grotesque attempt to reach heaven (total good) and the ensuing disillusionment, which leads, so 145

Dtirrenmatt concludes, to an understanding of man's relation­ ship to God and the actual nature of morality." To Heaven and Back. The New Morality in the Plays of Friedrich Dtirrenmatt, Studies in the Germanic Languages and Literatures, No. 5 (Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 1972), p. 11. In reference to Pestalozzi's assertion, however, Hans Mayer notes: "Die These stimmt, wenn man die Theologie als eine solche versteht, die ohne Gott auskommt, gegen ihn ge- richtet ist, ohne ihn jedoch— atheistisch— auszuklammern." "Friedrich Dtirrenmatt," Zeitschrift fur deutsche Philologie, 87(1968), 497. Similarly Arnold insists in his decidedly anti- theological study that Dtirrenmatt is one who supports "die gute Sache, ohne sich auf Christus berufen zu wollen" (92).

18 Portrat eines Planeten (Ztirich: Verlag der Arche, 1971). Dtirrenmatt' s most recent play, Der Mitmacher ( 1975 ), was not obtainable for analysis at the time of this writing.

19 "Friedrich Dtirrenmatt. Dramaturgie der Panne" in G. Neumann, J. Schroder, M. Karnick, Dtirrenmatt, Frisch, Weifl. Drei Entwtirfe zum Drama der Gegenwart (Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1969), p. 37. Cf. also Durzak, pp. 45-46.

20 In his interview with Horst Bienek, Dtirrenmatt stresses the importance of this original idea. Using Der Besuch der alten Dame as an example, he demonstrates how the entire drama is molded by the germinal thematic material, or "Grundeinfall" (107). "Der Einfall ist also noch gar nicht theatralisch," Bienek concludes, "sondern erst in dem Moment, wo Sie ihn in die Btihnenwelt versetzen, bekommt er zwangslSufig dramatische Maflstabe ..." Durrenmatt adds: "— und greift dann eben auch in das Stiick ein, verandert das Sttick, verandert Personen, stellt neue Personen auf" (108).

21 For an analysis of the grotesque in Dtirrenmatt' s work see Reinhold Grimm, "Parodie und Groteske im Werk Diirrenmatts" in Der unbequeme Dtirrenmatt, pp. 71-96. See also Arnold Heidsieck, Das Groteske und das Absurde im modernen Drama, Sprache und Literatur, 53 CStuttgart: Kohlhammer Verlag, 1969), esp. pp. 87-94.

2 2 "Anmerkung zur Komodie" in Theater-Schriften und Reden, p. 136.

2 3 "Anmerkung zur Kombdie," p. 13 3. 146

^Mayer, p. 487 .

9 6 See chapter one, pp. 36-37.

9 R "Standortsbestimmung zu Frank V." in Theater-Schriften und Reden, p. 184. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as St, followed by the page number.

2 7 "Aspekte des dramaturgischen Denkens (Fragment)" in Dramaturgisches und Kritisches. Theater-Schriften und Reden II (Zilrich: Verlag der Arche, 1977) , p . 209. Hereafter ab­ breviated in the text as A, followed by the page number.

2 ft Bertolt Brecht, Gesammelte Werke in 20 Banden (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1967 ), XVI, 9 31.

2 9 Interview with Horst Bienek, p. 106.

30 It is questionable whether the dramatist can remain an ideological "anarchist" and isolate himself from the problems inherent in his own works to the degree which Diirrenmatt sug­ gests. His ideology determines not only his choice of subject matter, but also its dramatic formulation. A perusal of the notes which Diirrenmatt supplied for almost every one of his plays, and especially of the now infamous speech "An die Kritiker Franks des Fiinften" (1963), makes it clear that the author himself has given considerable thought to the "mogliche Aussagen" (St 188) of his works.

31"21 Punkte z u den Physikern," p. 19 3.

3 9 "21 Punkte zu den Physikern," p. 193. In addition to being a formal concretization of Dtirrenmatt' s skepticism, the "schlimmst-mogliche Wendung" also prevents the dramatic imagi­ nation proceeding from the original "Einfall" from becoming chaotic by providing it with a structural terminus. See Beda Allemann, "Die Struktur der Komodie bei Frisch und Dtirrenmatt" in Das deutsche Lustspiel II, ed. Hans Steffen (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1969), pp. 200-217.

33 "Dramaturgische Uberlegungen zu den WiedertSufern" in Dramaturgisches und Kritisches. Theater-Schriften und Reden II, p. 164. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as W, followed by the page number. 147 3 4 "Zwei Dramaturgien?" in Dramaturgisches und Kritisches♦ Theater-Schriften und Reden II, pp. 130-131.

3 5 My discussion is restricted to the "Neue Fassung" of 1964 in Komodien _I.

q c In his dissertation, Hans-Jiirgen Syberbert describes "sechs Stufen der dialektischen Entwicklung des Themas Gerech- tigkeit" in the play. Zum Drama Friedrich Dtirrenmatt s. Zwei Modellinterpretationen zur Wesensdeutung des modernen Dramas, Diss. Munich 1962 (Munich: Verlag UNI-Druck, 1965), p. 75.

3 7 Amilian is thus not merely "a captive of outmoded ideals" and "the slave of obsolete slogans," as Murray Peppard maintains (36).

^Peppard, p. 42.

3 9 "Anmerkung I zu Romulus"in Theater-Schriften und Reden, p. 176.

^"Anmerkung I zu Romulus," p. 17 6.

^Durzak, p. 64.

Pestalozzi, p. 390.

4 3 Cf. Durzak: "So ist in der Tat kritisch die Frage zu stellen, worin eigentlich die Funktion dieses ersten Aktes liegt. Ist es lediglich das Versteckspiel, das der Autor mit den Zuschauern treibt und auf der Btihne die beiden Morder Newton und Einstein mit dem Inspektor, der ihnen ihre Verriickt- heit abnimmt?" (120).

44 Cf. Durzak, p. 12 5. See also Peppard, p. 69.

45 Similar expertise in manipulating her environment is also evidenced by Claire Zachanassian, with whom FrSulein Doktor Mathilde von Zahnd seems to occupy a special category among Dtirrenmatt1 s dramatic characters. Both figures exhibit an almost demonic quality which separates them from other human 148 beings. Durrenmatt suggests as much himself in his postscript to Der Besuch der alten Dame, and much of what he says there regarding Claire Zachanassian is also true of Fraulein Doktor Mathilde von Zahnd: "Doch, da sie sich aufierhalb der mensch- lichen Ordnung bewegt, ist sie etwas Unabanderliches, Starres geworden, ohne Entwicklung mehr, es sei denn die, zu versteinern, ein Gotzenbild zu werden. Sie ist eine dichterische Erscheinung . . ("Anmerkung zum Besuch der alten Dame," p. 182). Cf. also Jauslin, who writes of Doktor von Zahnd: "Jetzt ruckt sie in die Nahe der Zachanassian . . . Sie wird zu einen aufierirdischen Wesen, das tiber Wohl und Leiden der Menschheit bestimmen kann, zu einem weltbestimmenden Prinzip" (117).

4 6 Herkules und der Stall des Augias in Gesammelte Horspiele (Zurich: Verlag der Arche, 1961), pp. 153-202.

4 7 Nevertheless, Hercules still gives himself more credit here for getting things done than the play seems to warrant.

48 In light of Hercules' incompetence, Augias' description of him as "die einmalige Moglichkeit, die kommt und geht" (K II, 426) can hardly be taken seriously.

4 9 Cf. Pestalozzi: "Dabei ist nicht auszumachen, wieweit er ein Schwindler ist, der die Taufer fur sich einzuspannen weifi, und wieweit er selber glaubt, ein Abgesandter Gottes zu sein" (387). On the other hand, Peppard is convinced that he is a "sensual and cynical nihilist" (25). CHAPTER THREE

PETER HANDKE: THEATRICALITY, SOCIETY, AND THE TRUE SELF

I Self-Conscious Theater and Self-Conscious Spectators

In his well-known essay "Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfen- beinturms" (1967), Handke describes what he expects from a literary work in the following manner: "Ich erwarte von einem literarischen Werk eine Neuigkeit fur mich, etwas, das mich, wenn auch geringfiigig, andert, etwas, das mir eine noch nicht gedachte, noch nicht bewuBte Moglichkeit der Wirklich- keit bewuftt macht, eine neue Moglichkeit zu sehen, zu sprechen, zu denken, zu existieren.And regarding his own literary production, Handke claims that he has but one theme, and that is "iiber mich selbst klar, klarer zu werden . . . aufmerksam zu werden und aufmerksam zu machen: sensibler, empfindlicher, genauer zu machen und zu werden . . . damit ich mich mit anderen besser verstandigen und mit ihnen besser umgehen kann" (E 26).

This introverted attitude stems from Handke*s belief that literature, by its very nature, is incapable of effectively presenting viable solutions to social problems. "Eine enga- gierte Literatur gibt es nicht," he states unequivocally in 2 his essay "Die Literatur ist romantisch" (1966). Engagement, he argues, is essentially "ein Handeln" (L 37) whose aim and

149 150 purpose is a restructuring of social institutions. The essence of art, however, is form, and as such it can have

"keine Bedeutung tiber sich hinaus" (L 43-44). When subordi­ nated to an artistic work, engagement becomes an aesthetic element and inevitably loses the immediacy essential to its effectiveness. "Das Engagement zielt zweckbetont auf die

Veranderung der gesellschaftlichen Wirklichkeit," he writes,

"wahrend ein Zweck fur die Kunst ein Unding ware. Sie ist nicht ernst und nicht direkt, das heiftt, auf etwas gerichtet,

sondern eine Form und als solche auf nichts gerichtet, hdch-

stens ein enrsthaftes Spiel. . . . Die literarische Form, je

komplizierter sie ist, verfremdet urn so mehr das ihr eingeord-

nete Engagement. Und je vollkommener die Form durchgehalten

ist, urn so mehr wird das Engagement abgelenkt, verliert an

Wirklichkeit, wird unreal, wird zur Form und hat mit dem

Begriff Engagement nichts mehr zu tun" (L 44-45). For'the

same reasons, Handke also deems the theater an ineffective

instrument of social or political reform: "[. . .] das Theater

als Bedeutungsraum ist dermaften bestimmt, daft alles, was

aufierhalb des Theaters Ernsthaftigkeit, Anliegen, Eindeutig-

keit, Finalitat ist, Spiel wird— daft also Eindeutigkeit, En­

gagement etc. auf dem Theater eben durch den fatalen Spiel- 3 und Bedeutungsraum rettungslos verspielt werden . . ."

Brecht’s engagement, too, he asserts, falls victim to the

Spiel-character of the stage; for "trotz seines revolutionSren

Willens" (S 52), Brecht was still "von gegebenen Spielkanones 151 des Theaters benommen und befangen" (S 52). "Was mich beun- ruhigt," Handke writes, "ist nicht, da£ das marxistische Modell als Losung genannt wird, sondern, da£ es im Spiel als Losung genannt wird . . . die Eindeutigkeit und Widerspruchslosigkeit,

in die am Ende alles aufgeht (auch wenn Brecht so tut, als seien alle Widerspriiche of fen) , erscheint, da sie auf dem

Theater in einem Spiel- und Bedeutungsraum vor sich geht, als reine Formsache, als Spiel. Jede Art von Botschaft Oder sagen wir einfacher: jeder Losungsvorschlag fur vorher aufgezeigte

Widerspruche wird im Spielraum der Biihne formalisiert." He

concludes: "Das Theater als gesellschaftliche Einrichtung

scheint mir unbrauchbar fur eine Anderung gesellschaftlicher

Einrichtungen" (S 52-53). For Handke, the theater can be

most effectively employed as "ein Spielraum zur Schaffung

bisher unentdeckter innerer Spielraume des Zuschauers, als

ein Mittel, durch das das BewuBtsein des einzelnen nicht weiter,

aber genauer wird, als ein Mittel zum Empfindlichmachen: zum

Reizbarmachen: zum Reagieren: als ein Mittel, auf die Welt

zu kommen" (S 54).

But despite his conviction that "es gibt engagierte

Menschen, aber keine engagierten Schriftsteller" (L 43),

Handke nevertheless believes that the theater can play a

significant role in society. For although it cannot convinc­

ingly present "den Satz, die neue Denkmoglichkeit, die die

Losung bedeutet," it can create "die Voraussetzungen, die

Voraus-SStze fiir die neuen Denkmdglichkeiten" (S 54). By 152 increasing our consciousness and sharpening our perception the theater can lay the groundwork from which an awareness of social injustices and the resultant impetus to social reform may emerge. Like Frisch and Dtirrenmatt, Handke believes the individual is alienated from his true self: his life is in­ doctrinated and manipulated by the reigning political system.

Before the individual can become politically active, he must first discover his true identity; he must recognize that his modes of perception and his behavior are not "free," but in­ stead are subtly molded and coerced by the reigning ideology.

As a result of this indoctrination and manipulation, Handke insists, we perceive our environment not as it truly is, but as the political system has determined it ought to be. "[. . .] es gibt keine neutralen Bilder, keine neutralen Gegenstande," he maintains, "alle Gegenstande und Bilder sind Sprache, Aus- sage, versprachlicht und verstaatlicht. . . . Die Phanomene sind nicht, wie sie sind, sie sind, wie sie sein sollen. Und die Dinge sind Normen, Gesetze ..." What we perceive to be reality is thus an entirely artificial creation. Our be­ havior, our actions and reactions, are not natural, but arti­ ficial, theatrical. For Handke, who asserts "dafi jeder Vor-

gang in der. Auftenwelt seine Dramaturgien hat" (A 90), the world is a stage: our lives are roles, dutifully performed

in accordance with the "Dramaturgie des herrschenden Systems"

(A 99). It is this theatricality which Handke is striving to make his audience aware of, for only after they have become 153 conscious of their own roles will they become more critical toward the reigning ideology which formed them and be encour­ aged to change it. To this end, Handke employs the theater

(which enjoys "einen Publikationsanspruch aus Tradition"^) as an influential educative tool. The theater is a training ground for behavior in real life. "Die Zuschauer miifiten lernen,

Natur als Dramaturgie zu durchschauen," Handke asserts, "als

Dramaturgie des herrschenden Systems, nicht nur im Theater,

auch sonst. Aber im Theater sollten sie das lernen, sollten

sie mit dem fremden Blick anfangen" (A 99).

This "fremder Blick" can be induced by means of what 0 Handke terms "angestrengte Kunstlichkeit" in the theater.

By presenting fundamental theatrical elements (words, actions,

gestures, etc.) in isolation from any plot, he deliberately

accentuates their artificial, theatrical nature and thereby 7 forces the audience to become more aware of theater as theater.

"Handkes Stiicke haben keine Bedeutung im Sinne einer vorgefafiten

Weltinterpretation," writes Marianne Kesting, "sie haben aber

Bedeutung als Untersuchung des eigenen Mediums, des Schreibens,

Redens und des Theaters. Diese Medien indes spiegeln die

Aufienrealitat." Once they have become aware of the artifici­

ality of the stage and alert to its theatrical mechanisms,

Handke hopes that the audience will also be encouraged to

recognize the theatrical mechanisms in reality and the artifi­

ciality of their own roles. The spectator must be forced to

see that what he has traditionally assumed to be "natural" is 154 actually artificial; that is, dramaturgy. "Gerade diese

Naturlichkeit als falsch, als Dramaturgie den Zuschauer sehen zu lassen," Handke writes, "ware die einzige Moglichkeit, die

Situation als Theatermechanismus durchschauen zu lassen, damit auch ahnliche Situationen in der Auftenwelt" (A 91). An arti­ ficial, "abstrahierendes Theater" (A 104) thus not only ex­ poses theater as theater; it also induces the spectator to apply what he has learned from the theater in the outside world. Deliberate artificiality discourages the emotional

involvement of the spectator; it encourages him to think, rather than to react, and to draw conclusions for his own situation from what he has seen on the stage: "[. . .] je distanzierter und hermetischer die Ereignisse auf der Biihne vorgefiihrt werden, desto klarer und vernunftiger kann der

Zuschauer diese Abstrakta auf seine eigene Situation drauBen

konkretisieren" (A 104).

Thus, despite his rejection of Brecht's Epic Theater,

Handke embraces the principle of Verfremdung wholehearteldy.

Indeed, he carries the idea even further than Brecht. Where

Brecht insists that a play be "entertaining" ("[. . .] geradezu

besorgt war sein jeweilig letzter Wille zu einpm Stiick, es

sollte 'unterhaltsam' sein" (S 52), Handke notes), Handke Q speaks of "die Arbeit des Zuschauers" and unabashedly demands

nothing less than "die ruhige, klare Reflexion beim distanzier-

ten, angestrengten Zuschauen" (A 104). Brecht employs Ver-

fremdungseffekte to remind the spectator that he is in the 155 theater and thereby encourage reflection. In Handke*s case, it is no longer appropriate to speak of alienation "effects."

Since there are no character or plot in the traditional sense, the possibility of empathy on the part of the spectator never arises. The spectator, too, relinquishes his traditional role. As Henning Falkenstein puts it: "Bei Handke soil kein

Zuschauer zum Nachdenken gebracht werden, weil es ihn als solchen gar nicht mehr gibt. Eine Verfremdung vom Biihnen- geschehen ist deshalb unnotig.The object of Handke's interest is the theater and theatrical mechanisms themselves, and this is what the spectator must learn to see.^

Thus, although Handke believes that the theater cannot effectively present solutions to social problems, it can, he

insists, do considerably more than merely present an imitation of reality. By encouraging the spectator to see more clearly, to become more aware of the theater which surrounds him, it

can make him aware of the theatricality of his life. This is

the first step toward social change. "Das Theater bildet dann

nicht die Welt ab," Handke writes, "die Welt zeigt sich als

Nachbild des Theaters" (S 54).

Handke1s theories are not entirely unproblematic. He is

correct in pointing out social norms and roles, but he seems

to overlook the fact that they are merely the outward manifes­

tations of a larger ideological problem. "Handke zeigt in

seiner Kritik der gegenwSrtigen politischen Situation die

'Sache' auf, ohne auf die 'Ursachen' einzugehen," one critic 156 12 observes. Despite his criticism of "die Dramaturgie des herrschenden Systems," his plays present no concrete ideologi­ cal alternatives. Rather, his immediate goal seems to be a negation of all ideologies and systems. Translated into 13 political terms, Handke’s position borders on anarchy. He admits as much himself in 1967. "Ein engagierter Autor kann ich nicht sein," he writes, "weil ich keine politische Alter­ native weili zu dem, was ist, hier und woanders, (hochstens eine anarchistische). Ich weifi nicht, was sein soli" (E 26).

Although he later expresses the cautious hope that "[sich] aus dem genaueren BewuBtsein des Zuschauers oder Zuhorers . . . der Impetus ergibt, die Zustande im marxistischen Sinn (der auch der meine ware), zu andern . . ." (S 54), his plays remain uncommitted. It remains to be seen whether Handke can fill this ideological vacuum with a meaningful purpose.

II The Theater Around Us: Handke’s Plays

Handke's ideal of deliberate artificiality in the theater

is realized perhaps most completely in his early Sprechstucke.

In these plays, plot and character are entirely eliminated in

favor of a form which reduces the theatrical event to language 15 alone. As "unmittelbares Theater," the Sprechstilcke call

attention to themselves as artificial theater performances,

thereby discouraging the emotional involvement of the spectator

and encouraging his mental alertness. "Der Zuschauer wird

befremdet, damit der zum Oberlegen kommt," Handke writes.^ 157

In his first Snrechstuck to be performed, Publikumsbe- schimpfung (1966), Handke attempts to make the individual aware of the role he unconsciously assumes when he becomes a spectator in the theater. Only after the individual has be­ come conscious of, and critical toward, his traditional spec­ tator role, can he become as alert and aware in the theater as Handke would like him to be. The play is thus not con­ cerned with the spectator as an individual, but addresses in- 17 stead his role as a theatergoer. "Hier werden Sie nicht als Einzelmenschen behandelt", the speakers announce. "Sie sind hier nicht einzeln. . . . Sie sind hier kein Individuum.

. . . Sie sind Theaterbesucher. . . . Sie interessieren in

Ihrer Eigenschaft als Theaterbesucher. Sie bilden hier als 18 Theaterbesucher ein Muster" (1, 24). The spectator's role, cultivated by the traditional empathy theater, is characterized by a passive observation of events on the stage and a cessation of most mental activity. "Sie liefien sich vor vollendete

Tatsachen stellen," the speakers maintain. "Sie lieiJen sich gefangennehmen. Sie lieflen sich bannen. Sie vergafien, wo

Sie waren. Sie vergaften die Zeit. Sie wurden starr und Sie

blieben starr" (1, 37). By addressing the spectator directly—

and especially by "offending" him— the speakers bridge the

gap created by the empathy theater between audience and stage

and penetrate the spectator's passive role. They continuously

remind him that he is in the theater and in so doing encourage

his mental alertness: "Dadurch, dafi wir zu Ihnen sprechen, 158 konnen Sie sich Ihrer bewuBt werden. Weil wir Sie ansprechen, gewinnen Sie an SelbstbewuBtsein. . . . Sie werden sich bewuBt, daB Sie in einem Theater sitzen. . . . Sie werden geistes- gegenwartig" (1, 34). Handke hopes that this new awareness will encourage the spectator to cast off his traditional pas­

sive role and become more aware of himself and his surround­

ings— not only in the theater, but in the real world as well.

"Das Stuck kann dazu dienen," he writes, "dem Zuschauer seine

Anwesenheit . . . bewuBt zu machen, ihn seiner selbst bewuBt

zu machen. . . . Es kann ihn aufmerksam, hellhorig, hellsichtig 19 machen, nicht nur als Theaterbesucher."

The Sprechstticke are not only an attempt to distance the

audience, they also reflect Handke's belief that language it­

self is a primary source of alienation. Thus, his next two

Sprechstiicke call the spectator's attention to normative modes

of speech in society. In Weissagung (1966), four speakers

make a series of unrelated and meaningless "prophecies," such

as "Das Blut wird rot wie Blut sein" (1, 5 9) or "Die Feder

wird federleicht sein" (1, 62). By comparing objects to them­

selves, Handke forces the audience to take cognizance of them,

instead of their socially conditioned norms. At the same time,

he also encourages the spectators to become more critical

toward cliches ("rot wie Blut," "federleicht") in their own

language.

Similarly, in Hilferufe (1967) one speaker recites a

series of common, but unrelated, words and phrases, while a second responds to each of these utterances with "nein" or

"ja," depending upon their acoustic proximity to the key word

"hilfe." Since the utterances are isolated from context, the

spectators' attention is concentrated on the words and expres­

sions themselves. The audience is thus encouraged to scruti­ nize more closely the language which it has customarily taken for granted.

Just as Publikumsbeschimpfung attempted to make the spec­

tator aware of his role as a theatergoer, Selbstbezichtigung

(196 6) attempts to make him aware of his role as a member of

society. The process by which an individual is formed into a

social entity is presented abstractly on the level of language.

Since the "I" of Selbstbezichtigung is claimed by two speakers, 2 it becomes depersonalized and is "nur das 'Ich' der Grammatik."

The play thus becomes "die Selbstbezichtigung derer, die 21 gerade anwesend sind." The "I" confesses to a plethora a '

transgressions against social rules. Most of these transgres­

sions, however, result not from lawlessness, but from a natural

urge for self-expression. But society begins immediately to

curb the individuality of its members by molding their use of

language: by interpreting every utterance in terms of a ful­

fillment or disregard of rules: "Ich habe mich geauBert. . . .

Ich habe in jeder meiner AuBerungen bedeutet. Ich habe in

jeder meiner AuBerungen eine Erfiillung oder MiBachtung von

Regeln bedeutet" (1, 74-75). Having checked his individuality,

society then proceeds to make the individual 160

"gesellschaftsfahig," that is, to mold him into a socially acceptable role, by teaching him to subordinate his will to the authority of social rules: "Ich habe Regeln erfullen sollen. Ich habe sollen. . . . Ich habe Regeln gelernt. . . .

Ich habe die Grundregeln und die abgeleiteten Regeln gelernt.

Ich habe zu sollen gelernt. Ich bin gesellschaftsfahig geworden" (1, 72).

This same theme in expanded form is also the topic of

Handke's first full-length play, Kaspar (1967). Although it is not a Sprechstuck, Kaspar exhibits the same deliberate artificiality and theatricality as the earlier plays. "Das

Buhnenbild stellt die Biihne dar," Handke writes in his fore­ word. "Die Gegenstande auf der Biihne sehen schon auf den ersten Blick theatralisch aus . . . [Die Zuschauer] erkennen sofort, daft sie einem Vorgang zusehen werden, der . . . auf der Biihne spielt" (1, 104). And regarding the figure of

Kaspar himself, Handke tells us: "Seine Aufmachung ist eine theatralische. . . . Erst auf den zweiten oder dritten Blick erkennen die Zuschauer, daft sein Gesicht eine Maske ist . . .

Seine Art zu gehen ist eine sehr mechanische, kiinstliche,

eine, die es nicht gibt" (1, 107-108). Despite the fact that

Kaspar is Handke’s first "character," he is not a flesh and

blood human being, but an artificial, theatrical creation.

Nor does the play contain a plot, for as in the Sprechstucke

the theatrical event is reduced almost entirely to language.

The spectators are thus continually reminded that they are in 161 the theater and are encouraged to view the proceedings on the stage from an objective distance.

As in the Sprechstiicke, however, the reduction to language is not only a means to alienate the audience; it is also an attempt to isolate that key element which determines our per­ ception and our thinking. Since language precedes thought,

Handke realizes that he who controls our language also controls our thinking and consequently our behavior. The Einsager tell Kaspar: "Wenn du zu sprechen anfangst, wirst du zu denken anfangen, was du sprichst, auch we'nn du etwas anderes

denken willst. . . . Wenn du zu sprechen angefangen hast,

wirst du denken, was du sagst" (1, 151). Kaspar shows on an

abstract level how an individual is molded by society through

a manipulation of his use of language. This process is es­

sentially a theatrical one, for it is the goal of the Einsager

to form Kaspar into a socially acceptable role. Like stage

directors, they provide him with a script, prompting and

directing him until he learns his part. However, the drama

surrounding this role— the story of Kaspar Hauser— is not

enacted; for Handke*s play, as an examination of theatricality

itself, is concerned primarily with the process by which a 22 role is created. Because he views the world as a stage,

Handke hopes that an examination of traditional theatrical

elements in the theater will simultaneously shed light upon

theatrical mechanisms and processes in reality. Kaspar should

make the audience aware of the indoctrination and manipulation

of their own lives by the reigning ideology. Just as in Selbstbezichtigung, the Einsager must first suppress Kaspar's individuality— represented in the play by

Kaspar's utterance: "Ich mocht ein solcher werden wie einmal ein andrer gewesen ist" (1, 109)— before they can mold him into his prescribed role. By bombarding him with linguistic material, the Einsager succeed in obliterating his sentence.

They then begin to teach him to speak, stressing that the ideal sentence-norm is that which does nothing to upset the status-quo: "Jeder Satz, der . . . nicht sturt, nicht droht, nicht zielt, nicht fragt, nicht wurgt, nichts will, nichts behauptet, ist ein Bild von einem Satz" (1, 130). Once Kaspar has learned to express himself in the elementary and inoffen­ sive form prescribed by the Einsager, he will also learn to perceive the world in the same simple and uncritical manner.

"Jeder Gegenstand, den du wahrnimmst, ist umso einfacher, je einfacher der Satz ist, mit dem du ihn beschreiben kannst," he is told, "jener Gegenstand ist ein ordentlicher Gegenstand, bei dem sich nach einem kruzen, einfachen Satz, keine Fragen mehr ergeben . . ■" (1, 127). By manipulating his use of

language, the Einsager are able to convince Kaspar that the world is "in order." They thus force him to see things not as they are, but as the Einsager have determined they ought to be. Kaspar learns to perceive norms: "Jeder Gegenstand muB

ein Bild von einem Gegenstand sein: jeder rechte Tisch ist

ein Bild von einem Tisch. . . . Jeder rechte Tisch ist . . .

ordentlich, schdn, gemtitlich, friedlich, unauffSllig, 163 zweckdienlich, geschmackvoll" (1, 129-130). By the same means, the Einsager condition Kaspar to perceive himself in terms of a socially defined norm: a role, which is identical to that performed by everyone else: "[. . .] du bist in Ord- nung, wenn sich deine Geschichte von keiner andern Geschichte mehr unterscheidet: wenn kein Satz uber dich mehr einen

Gegensatz hervorruft" (1, 128).

Nevertheless, Kaspar mistakes his newly acquired verbal agility for proof of his own individuality. After he has mastered the model sentences which the Einsager have taught him, he exclaims: "Ich bin, der ich bin. Ich bin, der ich bin.

Ich bin, der ich bin" (1, 152). But this self-assertiveness is deceptive, for Kaspar has not become an individual, but merely an imitator of his teachers, and Handke tells us:

"Seine Stimme wird der der Einsager ahnlich" (1, 176). Only toward the end of the play does Kaspar realize that his life has been manipulated into an artificial role: "ich bin durch- einandergebracht: man hat mich in der Hand" (1, 196). With this insight in mind, the first version of the play ends on a

note of belated self-awareness, as Kaspar, summing up the message of the entire work, asserts: "Ich: bin: nur: zu- 2 3 fallig: ich:". In the second version, however, Handke

eliminated this ending in favor of a less explicit--and more

pessimistic--one. Kaspar closes the play by repeating the

nonsensical words: "Ziegen und Affen: Ziegen und Affen:

Ziegen und Affen:" (1, 197-198), 164

Just as Kaspar examined the process by which a role is created, Handke’s next three plays are concerned with these roles themselves, and particularly with the behavioral patterns associated with them.

Like its predecessors, Das Mtindel will Vormund sein (1968) also strives for deliberate artificiality. Handke tells us that the background of the stage is visible "als Hintergrund der Biihne" (2, 9), and like Kaspar, the two figures featured in the play both wear masks. But instead of reducing the theatrical event to language, Handke reduces the theater in

Das Miindel to actions and gestures. In so doing, he not only alienates the spectator, but simultaneously forces him to take

cognizance of these actions and gestures themselves and to reflect on the message they imply. For the apparently sense­

less actions performed by the guardian and the ward all serve

to illustrate two fundamental social roles: the dominant and 24 the subservient. Thus, m one of the most explicit scenes

in the play, the guardian climbs onto a chair, a table, a

chair upon a table, and finally hangs from a cord affixed to

the ceiling, while the ward, careful always to remain one step

below him, follows. When the guardian jumps to the floor and

lies down, the ward, graphically demonstrating his inferiority

and subservience, "kriimmt sich . . . an alien Extremitaten

zusammen. Wir sehen, wie es iiberall schrumpft und kleiner

wird" (2, 25). Because these activities are abstracted from

any plot, they, and hopefully the dominant-subservient role 165 behavior they depict, will be brought compellingly to the attention of the spectators, who will be encouraged to relate what they have seen to their own lives.

Despite the presence of costumed characters, Quodlibet

(1969) represents a return to the form and concept of the

Sprechstucke, for here again the theatrical event is reduced almost entirely to language. A group of characters from various walks of life— "die Figuren des Welttheaters" (2, 41)

— stroll about the stage engaged in innocent conversation.

However, they employ words and expressions which bear acoustic similarities to other well-known utterances from the spheres of politics, sexuality, and violence. "Die Zuschauer werden schon die richtigen verstehen" (2, 43), Handke says hopefully.

Occasionally, the figures also omit words or substitute false ones, assuming that the person with whom they are speaking-- and the audience— will understand the intended meaning. By forcing the spectator to make associations based on his famil­ iarity with these expressions, Handke hopes to compel him to become more conscious of them and the conventional attitudes— and roles— they reflect. The inadequacy of this conventional language is demonstrated toward the end of the play in the gradual cessation of conversation, each character becoming

increasingly preoccupied only with himself. Finally, the total disintegration of verbal communication is symbolized in

the obscene gestures exchanged by the bodyguards as the play

closes. 166

Despite Handke's good intentions, Quodlibet lacks the educative effectiveness of the earlier plays and hardly rises 2 5 above the level of a mere game with the audience. Handke himself later characterized both Quodlibet and Das Mtindel will

Vormund sein as transitional works, and in his foreword to

Der Ritt iiber den Bodensee (1970), he maintains that his second full-length play represents the further development of themes already introduced in the two preceding works.

But Der Ritt iiber den Bodensee is a much more complex work than either of its two predecessors, and with it Handke treads upon new theatrical ground. Like many earlier plays,

Der Ritt also consists of a series of scenes in isolation from any plot. And in order to remind the spectator that he

is in the theater, the characters are not only "andeutungs- weise kostiimiert" (2, 65) and "stark geschminkt" (2, 63), but

the actors themselves are to use their real names on the

stage. But the theatrical event is no longer radically reduced

to language or to gestures. Instead, the characters react

with each other in a variety of familiar situations, but in

each case this familiar behavior is distorted, parodied, or

revealed to be manipulable so that its underlying dramaturgy 26 is made visible to the audience. This is cleverly accom­

plished in the first scene between Emil Jannings and Heinrich

George, who continue the dominant-subservient relationship

already investigated in Das Mtindel will Vormund sein. But

here Handke clearly discloses the dramaturgy by which the 167 dominant personality establishes his hegemony over the sub­ servient one. Jannings relates a story in which amonp other things his familiarity with "flambierte Nieren" (2, 67) is documented. George, who is totally unacquainted with this exotic dish, refers to it again later, and Jannings uses the 27 occasion to establish his dominance:

Jannings: ’Haben Sie jemals flambierte Nieren gegessen?' George: ’Nein. Jedenfalls nicht dafi ich wtiftte. '

Jannings: ’Sie sprechen also, wenn Sie von flambierten Nieren sprechen, von etwas, das Sie nicht kennen?' George: ’Das wollte ich sagen.’ Jannings: 'Und von etwas, das man nicht kennt, sollte man nicht sprechen, ist es nicht so?' George: ’Allerdings’ (2, 68-69).

Immediately thereafter Jannings extends his hand, and George, intimidated by the preceding conversation, unhesitatingly picks up the cigar box which Jannings had dropped and places

it into the outstretched hand. Jannings continues throughout

the play to artificially cultivate George's subservient role

until it becomes so "naturlich" (2, 11*4) that George is inca­

pable of escaping it, and Jannings tells him: "’Jetzt ist es

zu spat. Die ganze Zeit hast du getan, was ich dir gesagt

habe, und nie etwas gesagt. . . . Du hast die ganze Zeit nicht

widersprochen— wie solltest du also jetzt widersprechen dtirfen?

Nein, was du jetzt sagst, gilt nicht mehr! Tu, was ich dir

sage’"' (2, 115). 168

In another scene Stroheim plays the part of a teacher who instructs his pupils to see various types of behavior in asso­ ciation with certain social roles. He thus establishes the normative dramaturgy according to which each of these roles

"should" be performed:

Stroheim: 'Jemand bewegt sich mit einge- zogenen Schultern zwischen Sachen, macht einen Bogen urn sie?' George: 'Der Gast!' Stroheim: 'Jemand, der schielt, halt einen Gegenstand in der Hand?' George: 'Der Dieb!'

• • • Jannings: 'Jemand, mit einer Sache in der Hand, fangt zu schielen an: weil er sie gestohlen hat?' Stroheim: 'Es sei denn, er beweist seine Unschuld * (2, 110-111).

Only for a brief moment in the middle of the play are the characters able to recognize this artificial dramaturgy

and perceive other individuals independent of their socially

determined role behavior:

Henny Porten: 'Jemand schaut sich ofter urn, wahrend er geht: hat er ein schlechtes Gewissen?' Elisabeth Bergner: 'Nein, er schaut sich nur einfach ofter um!' Henny Porten: 'Jemand sitzt mit gesenktem Kopf da: er ist traurig?' Elisabeth Bergner . . . : 'Nein, er sitzt einfach nur mit gesenktem Kopf da!' (2, 100).

The role behavior of the past seems like a dream ("Wir haben

das alles nur getraumt!" (2, 103)), and for a euphoric moment

they are able to free themselves from their artificial roles

and establish contact with each other on an immediate human

level: 169

Alle schauen einander ernst und zart- lich an. ’Wir sind frei? Wir sind frei!'

Sie umarmen einander, neigen einander die Kopfe zu, verbergen die Kopfe inein- ander, reiben sich aneinander, streicheln einander mit Kopfen und Handen (2, 103).

Likewise, they are able to appreciate objects for themselves and to perceive them independent of their socially determined norms: "Sie losen sich voneinander und beschaftigen sich wie beschwingt mit den Gegenstanden, fassen sie an, drucken sie an sich, lehnen sich spielerisch an sie, stemmen sie hoch, wiegen sie in den Armen . . ." (2, 103-104).

But this moment of freedom is short-lived, for the charac­ ters return to their normative role behavior immediately there­

after, and like Quodlibet, the play ends on a pessimistic note.

The screaming doll which is carried onto the stage toward the

end of the play and which "greift . . . nach den Briisten der

Frauen und zwischen die Beine der Manner" (2, 15 3) is an

obscene-grotesque symbol prefiguring the sterile paralysis of

this artificial existence: "Sie hocken da, setzen gleichzeitig

zu etwas an; einer versucht vergeblich, die Hand aus der Tasche

zu ziehen; ein, zwei Gffnen sogar den Mund— ein paar Laute,

dann erstarren alle wieder und ziehen sich zusammen, machen

sich ganz klein, wie erfrierend" (2, 154). 170

III Metatheater: The Role becomes Reality

Die Unvernunftigen sterben aus

Die Unverminftigen sterben aus (1973 ), Handke’s third full-length play and his latest stage work to date, represents a formal break with the deliberate artificiality and educative zeal of its dramatic predecessors. Whereas he had until now dealt with theatricality and role-playing on an abstract level, he now presents this theme for the first time in a more tra­ ditional theatrical environment. Nevertheless, Die Unvernunf­ tigen sterben aus represents the logical development of the subject matter which dominated Handke’s earlier plays. For whereas Kaspar had shown, in an abstract form, the process by which an individual is molded into a socially acceptable role, and its three successors examined various aspects of this role behavior itself, Die Unvernunftigen presents us with an individual confronted with the fait accompli of a life which

2 8 has become totally artificial. Moreover, Handke’s first

"character," Kaspar, was an unself-conscious, Everyman figure, unaware throughout the course of the play that his personality and behavior were being manipulated by outside forces. Only at the end does he finally realize the artificiality of his existence: "Ich: bin: nur: zufMllig: ich:". This moment of self-awareness, unique among Handke’s earlier plays, consti­ tutes the point of departure for Die Unvernunftigen. For

Handke’s second important character, Hermann Quitt, is an

almost pathologically self-conscious figure who has become

painfully aware of the confines of his role. Handke's return to a more traditional form of theater documents his growing skepticism. As we have seen, he employed deliberate artificiality in his earlier plays in order to encourage the spectator to become conscious of the theater around him. He viewed the stage as a pedagogical tool. His re-instatement of traditional theatrical elements, such as

plot, character, and social milieu, signals a loss of confi­ dence in the theater as an educative institution. Die Unver­

nunftigen makes no conscious attempt to encourage reflection

in the audience. Handke's skeptical attitude is prompted by

his growing conviction that the individual will never succeed

in overcoming his social role. This pessimism not only leads

to the abandonment of an "abstrahierendes Theater," and thus

of all pedagogical intentions-, it is also responsible for his

turn to metatheater. Hermann Quitt is victimized by the "Dra-

maturgie des herrschenden Systems." Like Don Juan, Romulus,

Mobius, and Bockelson, he is alienated from the world in which

he lives. As a result, he rejects his social role and with­

draws into himself. His self-consciousness reflects an urgent

search for the true self beneath a social mask. Like all the

heroes of metatheater, Quitt has the consciousness of a drama­

tist as well as that of a character. He dramatizes himself in

an attempt to escape his class role, 2 9 In the first act of the play the stockholder Franz Kilb

makes the following observation regarding Ouitt's parents:

"Sein Vater war Schauspieler. Seine Mutter machte Puppen, 17 2 30 die sie nicht verkaufen konnte" (13). The statement is significant, for Quitt's life as an entrepreneur is in reality as theatrical as his father's profession and as artificial as the dolls made by his mother. At the beginning of the play,

Quitt struggles to escape this artificial role and to express himself as an individual independent of any class. "Ich bin deswegen nicht krank," he protests, "weil ich, als Hermann

Quitt, ganz so sein kann wie mir zumute ist. Und ich mdchte so sein wie mir zumute ist. Ich habe das Bluesgefiihl ..."

(1*4). And later he complains: "Warum muB ich einer bestimmten

Klasse angehoren, um von mir erzahlen zu durfen?" (96-97).

His confidant, Hans, can hardly conceal his incredulity at the very idea of Quitt's transcending his role ("Und wie Herr

Quitt gerade aus seiner Rolle fiel, das war auch nur ein

Spiel." (8)), and he reminds him that such feelings are in­ compatible with his membership in a class which evaluates every aspect of life according to economic considerations alone: "In Ihrer Klasse konnen Sie sich solche Zustande nicht

leisten. . . . Ihre Gefiihle sind Luxus, unniitz. Niitzlich waren sie denen, die danach auch leben konnten" (8). And

somewhat later: "Im Ernst: Von einem verruckten Unternehmer

ist mir noch nichts zu Ohren gekommen. . . . Aber Sie sind

gar nicht fShig, uneins mit der Welt zu sein. Und wenn, dann

machen Sie Kapital daraus" (13). Quitt is torn between a

need for self-expression and the strict limits placed upon

his individuality by his class role. Because he is forced to 173 play a role with which he cannot completely identify, Quitt

is plagued by an intense feeling of alienation, not only from himself, but also from his environment. "Als ich mich gerade

umzog und in den Spiegel schaute," he confides to Hans, "kam

es mir auf einmal lacherlich vor, daft mir Haare wachsen" (13).

"Andrerseits komme ich manchmal irgendwohin," he continues

later, "und glaube, mich in der Tiir geirrt zu haben. . . .

Sogar wenn ich hier hereinkomme, beschleicht es mich oft, ich

sei in eine fremde Wohnung eingedrungen. Oft denke ich beim

Anblick eines vertrauten Gegenstands: Wo ist da der Schwindel?"

(14). Similarly, Quitt's introspection, even his egocentricity

("Ich bin wichtig. Ich bin wichtig. Ich bin wichtig." (49)),

are but manifestations of a desperate search for the self

beneath the exterior of an artificial role: "Aber ich mochte,

daft es sich, wenn auch ein letztes Mai, urn mich handelt, und

nur urn mich. Ich kame mir sonst endgiiltig abgeschrieben vor,

maschinell ..." (37).

In contrast to Quitt, the other characters featured in

the play are entirely unself-conscious and unreflective. Like

the characters of "theatrical Seville" in Frisch's Don Juan,

they are unquestioning performers of their prescribed roles.

The resultant extinction of individuality is aptly documented

by Hans in his characterization of himself. "Ich kann mich

an nichts von mir persbnlich erinnern," he admits. "Zum

letzten Mai war von mir die Rede, als ich den Katechismus

.lernen muflte. 'Meine Wenigkeit' von 'Euer Gnaden1. Einmal 17 4 hatte ich einen Gedanken und vergaft ihn gleich wieder. Bis jetzt versuche ich mich an ihn zu erinnern. So bin ich nie zum Denken gekommen. Aber ich bin bediirfnislos" (10-11).

Quitt's fellow entrepreneurs, who make their appearance in the second scene of this first act, have also sacrificed their individuality and assumed roles in a script dictated by their social class. In the first act, the text of this script is designed to bestow a semblance of respectability, and even moral superiority, upon a segment of society which (as the play shows) in actuality often employs questionable, if not ruthless, methods in its exploitation of its fellow man. The entrepreneurs, however, are entirely unaware of the artifici­ ality of their roles. Thus, they self-righteously condemn the materialistic attitudes of consumers, ignoring the signif­ icant part they have played in the creation of the circum­ stances fostering this materialism. "Die denken nur ans Geld," the priest-entrepreneur Koerber-Kent complains. "In ihrem

Kopf sind nichts als Zahlen und- Zoten . . . Statt fur einen

Abendkurs oder ein Abonnement im Theater geben sie ihren Lohn fttr Kiihltruhen, Kristallspiegel und Kuckucksuhren aus. Seit

sie das Allgemeine nicht mehr achten . . . sind sie besessen

vom dem Beelzebub des Besonderen . . ." (20-21). And v.

Wullnow is disappointed by a female shopper who is apparently

only interested in a sale item. "Schade, dachte ich im nach-

hinein. Sie wSre richtig meine Kragenweite gewesen . , .

Aber sich so zu entwiirdigen nur wegen eines Konsumartikels, 175 nein. Ich habe mich fur die Person geschamt" (22). But the hypocrisy of this script is most evident when the entrepre­ neurs decide to replace the free competition among themselves with a cartel. "Wir sind keine Wolfe," v. Wullnow asserts in justification of the potentially lucrative maneuver. "Aber daft die freie Konkurrenz ein Wolfsgesetz ist, das haben wir inzwischen erfahren. . . . Wir sind schlieftlich nicht aus

Lust die Ungeheuer. Mein Urerlebnis war der Gedanke: es kann doch keinen freiwillig unmenschlichen Menschen geben.

Damit richte ich mich auch selber immer wieder auf, wenn ich was tun muftte, vor dem es meiner Natur eigentlich gegraust hat" (26-27).

Although he still considers himself to be an entrepreneur at this point in the play, Quitt has, as we have seen, become increasingly aware of the artificial and repressive nature of his class role, and he is repulsed by this transparent theat­ ricality. In the following segment, Quitt attempts to expose this performance as a sham by divorcing his colleagues’ state­ ments from their script and reformulating them in straight­ forward and unpretentious terms: "Tiber den Preiskamp'fr ist also der Markt nicht mehr zu vergroftern, willst du damit sagen.

. . . Zusammen unterbieten wir die Kleineren, bis sie sich

sehnen, vom Couponschneiden zu leben. Statt Gewalt das sanfte

Gesetz der verdrSngenden Masse" (27). He continues by pre­

senting them with a plan of action, which in fact may have

been conceived by any one of them, but whose treachery is 176 exposed by Quitt's ironic tone. Thus, point four of his pro­ gram mockingly proposes: "Wir gehen manchmal fur uns durch den Wald, urn uns zwischendurch in der Natur als Menschen fiihlen zu diirfen" (28). His colleagues, however, miss the critical thrust of his speech entirely. "Was spielten Sie da gerade?" Koerber-Kent replies. "Es war doch nur gespielt, oder? Denn in Wirklichkeit sind Sie sich Ihrer Position bewuftt wie wir alle" (29). Wick that, Quitt finally realizes that all attempts to penetrate the roles of his colleagues and to communicate with the performers beneath them are futile, and he theatrically retreats: "(schlagt sich theatralisch an die

Stirn): Ja, es ist etwas mit mir durchgegangen. Aber jetzt bin ich wieder der alte" (29). Franz Kilb's antics in this act may also be interpreted as an attempt to shatter the roles of the entrepreneurs and to communicate with the actors beneath these roles. However, true to their class, the entre­ preneurs remain indifferent to the stockholder. Only Quitt reacts by summarily ejecting Kilb from the stage.

Quitt's attempts to establish personal contact with another human being do not fare much better in the next scene with the entrepreneuress Paula Tax. "Es ist freundlich, daft

Sie mich fragen," he explains to her. "Aber warum fragen Sie

nichts von sich aus? Ich sehne mich danach, von Ihnen gefragt

zu werden. . . . Wenn ich Sie jetzt auschaue, sehe ich Sie

nur, wie Sie sind, und ganz ohne mich sind, aber nie, wie Sie

waren oder mit mir sein kdnnten. Das ist unmenschlich" (45). 177

But again Quitt meets with a rebuff, for to the entrepreneuress

Paula Tax even sex is nothing more than a commodity: "Gehort nicht auch dieser Moment zum Geschaft?" (46).

Quitt realizes that he can only discover his true identity through an interaction with other human beings. But it has become clear to him by now that social roles form an insurmount- 31 able barrier to human contact. After the departure of the entrepreneuress, he rhetorically inquires of Hans: "Geht es dir auch so, daB du, wenn du an deine Beziehungen zu andern denkst, iiberall nur noch nasse schwere Lappen herumliegen siehst?" (48). And on at least two other occasions in the play

Quitt associates the unfulfilled need for personal contact between individuals with outbursts of physical violence. "Man versteht den Lustmorder," he asserts, "nur das Bauchaufschlitzen verschafft ihm die dem einzelnen gebiihrende Aufmerksamkeit"

(41). Likewise, in the second act, in reference to a play

featuring mute characters which he had recently seen, Quitt

says: "£. . . ] nicht, daB sie sprachlos waren, sondern daB

sie mit ihren scheinbar entmenschten Umgangsformen in Wirk-

lichkeit auf ebensolche Weise lieb zueinander sein wollten,

wie wir Zuschauer . . . Auch sie wollen Zartlichkeit, Treue,

ein Leben zu zweit, Geborgenheit— sie konnen es nur nicht

sagen und vergewaltigen und ermorden einander, das riihrte

mich" (60).

By the end of act one, Quitt has become convinced that

the roles performed by himself and his colleagues have 178 degenerated into an empty and artificial pattern of behavior which has stifled not only the possibility of personal contact between human beings, but indeed all individuality. Quitt contrasts this state of affairs with what he perceives to have been the more exemplary conditions of the nineteenth century, where roles were at least buttressed by a belief in certain values and ideals. "Damals," he observes, "im 19. Jahrhundert, auch wenn man gar keine Weltgefiihle mehr hatte, gab es doch wenigstens noch eine Erinnerung daran und eine Sehnsucht.

Deswegen konnte man die nachspielen und spielte sie den andern vor . . . Und weil man sie so ernst und geduldig und gewissen- haft . . . nachspielte, stellten sich die Gefuhle auch wirklich ein, vielleicht. Immerhin glaubte man, daft es das gab, was man spielte, oder daft es moglich war" (53). In contrast,

Quitt sees his own life as nothing more than a mechanical, ritualized role, which in the absence of any emulative values or ideals has become an end in itself: "Was mir herausrutscht, ist nur noch die Jauche der vergangenen Jahrhunderte. Urn sie zu vertuschen, fiihre ich ein Geschaftsleben. Ich gehe schon aufs erste Klingen zum Telefon. Ich rede schneller, wenn hinter mir schon die Wagentiir aufgehalten wird, Wir setzen gemeinsame Preise fest und halten uns treu daran. Auf-einmal

fSllt mir ein, daft ich etwas spiele, das es gar nicht gibt, und das ist der Unterschied. Das ist die Verzweiflung!" (54).

Although Quitt has come to this realization, his fellow entre­

preneurs, of course, have not. But Quitt's search for his own identity and individuality can only be accomplished through an interaction with other individuals, who like himself have discarded their artificial class roles. He therefore devises a plan, by which he hopes to destroy his colleagues financially and thereby to obliterate the basis of their roles. In the ensuing emotional confrontation with "real" human beings now freed from their roles, he hopes to finally experience him­ self. Quitt is thus prepared to ruthlessly subject the world to a plan whose sole goal is the discovery of his own identity.

Like Don Juan, Romulus, Mobius, and Bockelson, Ouitt's behavior is characterized by an almost ruthless egocentricity; and in his zeal to accomplish his end he does not hesitate to assume again that very role which he had just rejected and which he is trying to destroy in his colleagues: that of the ruthless 3 2 entrepreneur. "Ich werde mich nicht an die Absprache halten, he asserts defiantly. "Ich werde ihre Preise ruinieren und

sie selber dazu. Ich werde mein altmodisches Ich-Gefiihl als

Produktivmittel einsetzen. Ich habe noch nichts von mir gehabt

Hans" (54). But now this role is consciously and deliberately

assumed as a tactic, as the main ingredient of a script no

longer dictated by a social class, but by Quitt himself. For

like the main character of every metaplay, Quitt now sees him­

self as the hero of a self-authored drama, a "tragedy," which

if staged successfully should result in the "death" of his

role and in the liberation of his real self. Thus, he hopes,

will the performance finally become reality: "Es wird eine 180

Tragodie sein. Eine Tragodie aus dem Geschaftsleben, in der ich der Oberlebende sein werde. Und mein Kapital in dem

Geschaft, das werde nur ich sein, ich allein. . . . Es wird blitzen, und die Vorstellung wird Wirklichkeit sein" (54).

Quitt is too self-conscious to willingly accept a role dictated by a hostile society. Like his metatheatrical prede­ cessors, he has the consciousness of a playwright. In the time between acts one and two, Quitt realizes his script with considerable success, for in the second act (whose structure

is parallel to the first) we discover that his ruthless busi­ ness practices have brought financial ruin upon his competi­

tors. Before his colleagues make their second appearance in

the play, Quitt again bemoans the lack of genuine contact be­

tween individuals in his blues number: "Ich mochte dich hassen

und hasse Kunstleder/Du mochtest mich hassen und haJSt den

Nebel/Ich mochte dich lieben und liebe Hugellandschaften/Du

mochtest mich lieben/und hast eine Lieblingsstadt eine Lieb-

lingsfarbe ein Lieblingstier" (63). Nevertheless, Quitt is

more optimistic here than at any other point in the play: "Es

kann mir nichts mehr passieren!" (64). With the arrival of

the entrepreneurs, however, this optimism proves to have been

premature. For although he succeeded in destroying them eco­

nomically, he has not succeeded in attaining his main goal:

the destruction of their class consciousness. The entrepreneurs

are as much unquestioning performers of their class roles in

the second act as they were in the first. They merely alter 181 their script somewhat to suit the new occasion. As in Frisch's

Don Juan, the following scene documents a confrontation be­ tween two dramatists. Quitt attempts to impose his personal script on his colleagues while they attempt to force him to adhere to his class role. Thus, instead of the spontaneous human interaction which Quitt had hoped for, the entrepreneurs respond with a conscious search for that reaction which they believe will be most successful in convincing Quitt to return to the fold. v. Wullnow cautions: "Aber wir miissen jetzt verniinftig sein, im wirtschaftlichsten Sinn des Wortes . . ."

(66); and Lutz suggests: "Wir miissen uns einen Moment gehen lassen . . . Vielleicht wissen wir dann weiter. . . . Daraus wird sich dann die Methode ergeben" (66).

Lutz hits upon the proper "method" soon thereafter, for

sensing Quitt's desire for individual expression, he proposes:

"Ich weiJS jetzt, was wir tun. Wir miissen von uns sprechen, von uns als einzelnen— wie wir wirklich sind" (67). The result

is a performance even more ridiculously theatrical and trans- 3 3 parent than that staged m the first act. Thus, v. Wullnow

attempts rather crudely to establish a basis for personal com­

munication with Quitt in the following manner: "Quitt, heute

friih hatte ich ein Paket Mehl in der Hand. . . . Die Packung

war so weich und schwer. Dieses Gewicht in meiner Hand und

die Sanftheit des Drucks zugleich! Ich wurde entriickt in

eine wonnige Unwirklichkeit. Geht es dir nicht auch manchmal

so?" (6 8 ). Another attempt by Lutz to achieve the same end is hardly more refined. "Ich denke in letzter Zeit oft an

den Tod," he confides to Quitt. "Alles, was mir begegnet,

erscheint mir als ein Zeichen. Wenn ich in der Zeitung lese:

'Nachsten Mittwoch Sperrmiill!', sptire ich sofort: ’Der Sperr- mull, das bin ich.' . . . Denkst du denn nie an den Tod?"

(70). As in the first act, Quitt remains unconvinced by this

show, which he accurately recognizes to be a calculated theat­ rical performance designed to persuade him to mend his ways.

"Ich verstehe euch wohl," he allows. "Du weifit, was es bedeutet,

wenn einer von uns menschlich wird oder gar vom Tod redet.

Ein Gefuhl wird bei uns nach dem ersten Schrecken zur Methode"

(75). The entrepreneurs, however, do at times forget their

"method," and on such occasions their true capitalist interests

are revealed. When Lutz attempts to initiate a man-to-man

conversation with Quitt, for example, the stage directions

clearly reveal what is really on his mind: "Er hat die ganze

Zeit wie unbewufit mit Daumen und Zeigefinger die Geldzahlgeste

gemacht" (77).

The discrepancy in this scene between actions and words

also clearly illustrates the artificiality of the entrepreneurs'

use of language, which (as Kaspar has shown) is less a means

of spontaneous expression as it is the chief element of a

script formulated by class roles and calculated to achieve a

certain end. This is particularly evident in the case of

Koerber-Kent, who attempts to intimidate Quitt into changing

his ways by instilling in him a fear of death. Koerber-Kent 183 is so dependent upon his script that he is incapable of ex­ pressing himself without it and verges on hysteria when he forgets a word: "(panisch): 0 Gott, was ist geschehen, ich finde das Wort nicht mehr, ich finde das Wort nicht mehr. Was hat man mit mir vor? Komm herab, Sonnenf insternisSchlag aus der Erde, Hollenfeuer!" (84). Because emotions and human experiences are merely part of an artificial script, the entrepreneurs never really experience them. Instead they are confined to the sphere of language, where they exist only as verbal abstractions. Quitt believes that this tendency toward verbal abstraction foreshadows the birth of whole race of mechanical role-players, who will be incapable of any spon­ taneous individual expression. "Es kommt die Zeit der Begriffs- maschinen," he predicts, "und es wird nichts Unbedachtes mehr geben. . . . Ich traume zum Beispiel uberhaupt nichts Sprach- loses mehr, und die Bilder dazu laufen so logisch ab wie ein

Tageslauf nach dem Terminkalender*' (94). In a society in which human beings are developing into "Begriffsmaschinen," Ouitt realizes that his striving for individuality is anachronistic

— and impossible (93). The repeated failures of his attempts to penetrate class roles and to establish personal contact with real individuals has effectively stifled the emergence and development of his "real" self, and at the end of the play he must admit that despite his attempts to free himself from his role he is still a product of his class: "Ich stecke noch tief in meiner Rolle. Schadenfroh gehe ich beim Arzt an 184 dem iiberfiillten Raum mit den Kassenpatienten vorbei, schaue weg, wenn im Speisewagen ein Fremder vor meinem Tisch stehen- bleibt. Warum eigentlich? Kaum einer sieht so aus, als ob er noch aus der Rolle fallen konnte" (95).

Unlike Don Juan’s successful coup de theatre, the "tragedy" which Quitt had attempted to stage has thus not resulted in the destruction of his role and in the liberation of his indi­ viduality. On the contrary, the impenetrability of his col­

leagues ’ class roles has convinced him that he will never suc­

ceed in establishing personal contact with other individuals

and that he will, therefore, never discover his true identity.

The reigning ideology has proved itself the superior dramatist.

Quitt has nothing left but his role. A tragedy has occurred,

but it is not the one which he has staged, for the real tragedy

lies in the fact that for Quitt individual and role have become

identical: Quitt is forced to realize that he is his role:

"Ich ging einmal auf der Strafle und merkte plotzlich, daft ich

mit meinem Gesicht nichts mehr zu tun hatte . . . Auften hielten

die Muskeln eine tote Haut fest, dann folgte eine taube Schichte

nach der andern, nur im tiefsten Innern, wo ich hatte sein

sollen, zuckte es noch ein wenig und war noch ein biftchen

feucht von mir. . . . Aber diese tote Haut, das war schon mein

wahres Gesicht" (95). The realization of this fact is too

much for Quitt to bear, and after he strangles Kilb— ironically

the only immediate contact he has had with another human being

— the play ends with a scene which graphically illustrates his 185 frustration and despair: "Er rennt mit dem Kopf gegen den

Felsquader. Er steht wieder auf und rennt noch einmal gegen den Felsen. Nach einiger Zeit richtet er sich auf und rennt wieder gegen den Felsen. Noch einmal steht er auf und rennt gegen den Felsen. Dann bleibt er liegen" (100).

IV Conclusion

Dike Frisch and Diirrenmatt, Handke believes that the individual is alienated from his true self. His life is a role dictated by the "Dramaturgie des herrschenden Systems."

Before the individual can become politically active, Handke maintains, he must first be made aware o^ the manipulation and artificiality of his own life. To this end, Handke employs the stage as a pedagogical tool. In contrast to Frisch and

Diirrenmatt, Handke regards language itself as a primary source of alienation. His Sprechstiicke attempt not only to distance the spectators, but also to call their attention to normative modes of speech. In later plays, he exposes the artificiality of theatrical elements, including language and gestures, in

order to encourage the spectator to recognize theatrical mechanisms in the world around him and thus the artificiality

of his role. Only in this way, says Handke, can the theater

contribute to social change.

Since the second version of Kaspar, however, the author

has become increasingly pessimistic regarding the individual's

ability to transcend his role. By 197 3, he has become con­

vinced that it is impossible for the individual to effectively 186 assert himself in opposition to the reigning political system and its dramaturgy. His return to a traditional form of theater in Die Unvernunftigen sterben aus is a direct conse­ quence of this resignation. The "abstrahierendes Theater" of his earlier plays sprung from the optimistic belief that the spectator could be educated in the theater and could apply what he learned therein in the outside world. His return to a more traditional form of theater, and with it the abandon­ ment of all educative intentions, reflects a loss of confi­ dence in the spectator's ability to apply the knowledge he may gain in the theater to overcome the role-playing and manip­ ulation in society.

Handke's pessimism is also responsible for his turn to metatheater. Hermann Quitt is hopelessy alienated from him­ self and his environment. As a result, he retreats inward, rejects his social role, and attempts to realize his true

identity by dramatizing himself in his own script. Quitt is the least successful of all the meta-heroes discussed thus far. Outdramatized by the reigning ideology, he succumbs to

a world of mechanical role-players and "Begriffsmaschinen."

Despite his dismal end, however, Quitt is closely related to

his more successful predecessor, Bockelson. Diirrenmatt * s hero,

it was said, incorporated one inevitable response to an in­

creasingly hostile and assertive environment: total escape

into the imagination. In Quitt, an opposing, but equally

inevitable consequence is realized: total capitulation to 187 the reigning ideology resulting in the identity of role and self. For Bockelson, role-playing was the road to freedom; for Quitt, the discrepency between identity and role has ceased to exist. Quitt's role has become his prison: "Aber diese tote Haut, das war schon mein wahres Gesicht." 188

Footnotes

^""Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms" in Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972), pp. 19-20. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as E, followed by the page number.

2 "Die Literatur ist romantisch" in Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms, p. 43. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as L, followed by the page number.

q "StraBentheater und Theatertheater" in Ich bin ein Be­ wohner des Elfenbeinturms, p. 53. Hereafter abbreviated In the text as S, followed by the page number.

"Die Arbeit des Zuschauers" m Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms, p. 114. Hereafter abbreviated in the text as A, followed by the page number.

5 "Theater und Film: Das Elend des Vergleichens" in Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms, p. 75.

0 "Theater und Film: Das Elend des Vergleichens," p. 77.

7 Handke sees this ideal of theatrical artificiality re­ alized in the Bread and Puppet Theater of New York. In "Theater und F i l m : Das Elend des Vergleichens" he writes: "Die herkomm- liche Theaterdramaturgie, die nur Handlungen und Worter kennt, die einer Geschichte dienen, wird reduziert auf Handlungen und Worter, Ger&usche und KlSnge selber . . . Jedes Wort, jeder Laut, jede Bewegung ist eine Geschichte: sie fiihren zu nichts, sie bleiben fiir sich allein sichtbar. So wird jede Natur auf der Biihne aufgehoben . . . keine Handlung ergibt sich natiirlich aus der vorhergehenden Handlung, keine AuBerung bedeutet etwas anderes auBer sich selber, sie deutet sich selber♦ Eine unerhorte Gleichzeitigkeit entsteht, des Sehens, des Atmens, des Unterscheidens. Der Raum bildet eine theatralische Einheit, in der man immer aufmerksamer, immer gespannter wird . . . Das Theater hat die Moglichkeit, kiinstlicher zu werden, damit es endlich wieder ungewohnt, unvertraut wird ..." (76-77 ).

8 "Die Sozialwelt als Platitude" in Panorama des 189 zeitgenossischen Theaters. 58 literarische PortrSts (Munich: R. Piper Verlag, 1969), p. 343.

9 My emphasis.

'*‘^Peter Handke, Kopfe des XX. Jahrhunderts, Vol. 75 (Berlin: Colloquium Verlag, 1974), p. 71.

Hans Christoph Angermeyer: "Erinnert man hier an Brechts Forderung nach dem 'Kunstfaktor' eines jeden Dramas, sieht man, welch entscheidende Unterschiede bei Handke vor- liegen. Der Zwang zum Kunstfaktor war gegeben durch die Obernahme eines aufterliterarischen 'Konflikts' in den litera- rischen Bereich, ohne dem 'Konflikt' auf dem Weg iiber die Eigenwelt, die Dramaturgie der Moglichkeiten, echte Eigen- standigkeit zu verleihen. Der 'Kunstfaktor* allein machte das Literarische aus. In diesem Sinne ist Handkes Satz zu verstehen, daB er nicht poetisch zu sein brauche. Fur ihn besteht dieser Zwang nicht. Er mufi nicht Aufierliterarisches kaschieren." Zuschauer im Drama. Brecht--Diirrenmatt— Handke (Frankfurt am Main: AthenSum Verlag, 1971), p. 114.

12 Karin Kuchenbacker, "Das Theater des Peter Handke," Der Deutschunterricht, 23(1971), Heft 5, 9. Cf. also Peter HamnuJ "Der neueste Fall von deutscher Innerlichkeit: Peter Handke" in Ober Peter Handke, ed. Michael Scharang (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972), pp. 304-314.

13 See also Ernst Nef, "Peter Handke— Identifikation und Sprache," Universitas, 26(1971), Heft 6 , 603-610.

14 For a general discussion of Handke's plays see especially the following: Karin KuchenbScker, cited above; Nicholas Hern, Peter Handke, Modern Literature Monographs (New York: Frederick Ungar, 1971); Uwe Schultz, Peter Handke, Friedrichs Dramatiker des Welttheaters, 67 (Velber bei Hannover: Friedrich Verlag, 1973); and Henning Falkenstein, cited above.

15 "Zur Publikumsbeschimpfung" in Stiicke 1 (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972), p. 203.

"Ober das Stiick Selbstbezichtigung" in Stttcke 1, p. 206.

"L 6 "Zur Publikumsbeschimpfung," p. 203. 190 17 Cf. Helmut HeiBenbiittel, "Peter Handke und seine Dichtung," Universitas, 25(1970), Heft 2, 123-125.

18 Parenthetical references are taken from the following two-volume edition of Handke's plays: Stilcke JL, cited above, and Stiicke 2 (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 197 3).

IQ "Zur Publikumsbeschimpfung," p. 203. Thus, Karin Kuchenbacker goes too far when she asserts: "Das behandelte Objekt soil zum politisch bewuBten Subjekt werden . . ." (9). Handke's immediate goal is not political provocation.

20 .. "Uber das Stiick Selbstbezichtigung, p. 205.

^"Ober das Stiick Selbstbezichtigung 3 p. 206.

22 Cf. Marianne Kesting: "Handke schildert zugleich die Geburt eines Theaterstucks. Kaspar kommt auf der Buhne zur Welt . . . er wird durch Sprecher und Einsager auf der Buhne zu- und abgerichtet. Er ist die Hauptfigur des Stiicks, mit anderen Worten: eine Rolle. Das Stiick freilich, namlich die Geschichte Kaspar Hausers, findet nicht statt. Das Theater zeigt die Anfangsstadien von Sprache und Bewegung, es zeigt, wie eine Figur in Regie genommen, in Faqon gebracht wird und sich schlieBlich mit der Rolle identifiziert" (344).

2 3 Kaspar (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1967), pp. 84-85.

24 Cf. Nicholas Hern: "But again it is a play concerned with presenting an aspect of the learning process, of the way in which an individual becomes aware that he has to conform to forces outside himself that wish to mold him in their like­ ness. In Self-Accusation these forces were referred to obliquely in the past; in Kaspar they made themselves audible as the Einsager; now, in M^ Foot My Tutor they are incarnated in the single figure of the vguardian1 exerting his silent sway over the 'ward' . . ." (74).

25 Cf. Nicholas Hern: "First impressions of Quodlibet— that it is a thin and labored one-dimensional practical joke, that, technically and thematically, it represents a step backward to Offending the Audience, and that its only justi­ fication is as a failed draft of an idea that eventually matures 191 in The Ride over Lake Constance--are not dispelled on closer acquaintance71 r 8 8l~.

2 6 The actions of the characters are thus not "ohne Sinn, ohne Ziel, darum auch ohne Problematik, vom VerstSndlichen vollig verfremdet," as Falkenstein maintains (88). Rather, as Hern notes, "every word, every gesture is carefully laid down" (93).

^ C f . Uwe Schultz, pp. 79ff.

2 8 Life as an artificial role has become an increasingly frequent motif in Handke's prose works as well. His most recent novel, Die Stunde der wahren Empfindung (Frankfurt am Main: Shurkamp Verlag, 1975), opens with the following ques­ tion: "Wer hat schon einmal getr-aumt, ein Mdrder geworden zu sein und sein gewohntes Leben nur der Form nach weiterzufiihren?" (7). The answer is the hero himself, who decides to make this dream his "Lebenstraum" (35) and henceforth to treat his everyday life as an artificial, consciously performed role: "Ab heute fuhre ich also ein Doppelleben, dachte er. Nein, gar kein Leben: weder das gewohnte, noch ein neues; denn das gewohnte werde ich nur vortauschen, und das neue wird sich erschopfen miissen im Vortauschen des gewohnten" (13).

29 For interpretations of the play see especially Hansjoachim Bleyl, "Handkes schwarzer Carneval," Neue Rundschau, 85(1975), Heft 3, 528-531, and Uwe Schultz, pp. 86-103.

30 Page numbers in parentheses refer to the following edi­ tion of the play: Die Unvernunftigen sterben aus (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 197 3).

31 Cf. the discussion of Der Ritt iiber den Bodensee, pp. 167-168 of this chapter.

3 2 Cf. Hansjoachim Bleyl: "VorsStzlich unverniinftig . . , bricht er das Preiskartell, das er zwecks gemeinsamer Markt- beherrschung mit seinen Konkurrenten geschlossen hatte. Bricht es, um sie zu ruinieren-, urn sie, indem er ihnen ihre 'Rollen' zerschlSgt, in ihre 'Wirklichkeit' hinein zu treiben— und so endlich, im Reagieren auf 'wirklich' gewordene Menschen, sich selbst noch einmal als 'wirklich1 zu erfahren" (529). 192 3 3 Cf. Hansjoachim Bleyl: "Aber damit entzieht sich ihm die Welt erst recht in eine hohnische Theatralitat . . . Statt ’wirklicher' zu werden, fallen seine Konkurrenten, indem sie angesichts des Ruins an sein menschliches Geftihl appellieren, aus der Rolle des harten Geschaftsmannes in die noch ' unwirk- lichere1 eines 'Menschs unter Menschen’" (529). SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION

Frisch, Diirrenmatt, and Handke are all overcome by a feel­ ing of impotence in the modern world. Historical processes seem to function beyond man's control, governments have become impersonal bureaucratic machines,and the individual is at the mercy of the destructive forces unleashed by modern science.

But despite their critical view of modern society, these authors are reluctant to analyze the social and historical processes which produced it. They accept the world as a chaos,

"ein Ratsel an Unheil" (Diirrenmatt), which must be coped with but which cannot be overcome. Unlike Brecht, and often in direct opposition to him, they are skeptical of ideologies and theories. Indeed, they regard "die Abstraktion . . . die

Ideologie und ihre todlichen Fronten" (Frisch) as a chief cause o'f man's alienation from his environment. The individ­ ual is indoctrinated and manipulated by the "Dramaturgie des herrschenden Systems" (Handke). "Er hat das Bild verloren und ist den Bildern verfallen," Diirrenmatt writes. The primary concern of these authors, therefore, is a search for man's lost individuality, his true self. Theirs is "ein individuelles

Engagement an die Wahrhaftigkeit" (Frisch). They become intro­ spective, "subjektivistisch" (Handke), and are increasingly preoccupied with "das Einzelwesen, das Ich . . .die Person"

(Frisch). In a hostile and inscrutable world, the most urgent problem is "wie der einzelne die Welt besteht oder wie er untergeht" (Durrenmatt).

193 Alienation and self-consciousness are thus the hallmarks of the Lebensgefilhl adhered to by Frisch, Diirrenmatt, and Handke.

This Lebensgefiihl finds formal expression in metatheater.

Like his author, the hero of every metaplay is alienated from the society in which he lives. He is an outsider at odds with the reigning ideology. In a world of hypocrisy and clandestine promiscuity, Don Juan seeks the truth in geometry.

Romulus is a pacifist among zealous patriots, Mobius an idealist in a world governed by political opportunism, and

Bockelson is an agnostic surrounded by religious fanatics.

Similarly, the Greek national hero, Hercules, espouses the virtues of the little man, and the entrepreneur Hermann Quitt longs for the ideals of the nineteenth century. As a result of their conflict with society, the heroes of metatheater withdraw into themselves, and their outlooks often become ruthlessly subjective. They see themselves at the center of events and reject their social roles in favor of one which they themselves devise. Every meta-hero has the consciousness of a playwright as well as that of a character, and (except for Hercules) each succeeds in dramatizing himself and those

around him in his own script. They all employ role-playing

as a tactic. Based on the nature and goals of their self­

dramatization, three types of metaplay are discernible. The

heroes of the first type are searching for their true selves.

They dramatize themselves in order to escape the role imposed

upon them by society. Don Juan stages his own damnation in 195 order to escape his role as "el burlador de Sevilla," and in

order to free himself from his class script Quitt assumes the role of a ruthless entrepreneur. Hercules longs to discard his role, but he is unable to dramatize himself in any script

other than that dictated by society. The second type of meta­

play contains those heroes who employ role-playing as an in­

strument for imposing their wills upon society. By dramatiz­

ing himself as a clown, Romulus hopes to precipitate the fall

of the Roman Empire; by assuming the role of a mental patient,

Mobius intends to save mankind from self-inflicted desturction.

The single meta-hero of the third group employs role-playing

as a means of escape into an autonomous world of fantasy and

imagination. Bockelson avoids a hostile environment by living

entirely within his roles.

Not only the hero, but the world itself is a playwright

in metatheater. The dramatist within is opposed by a dramatist

without. Every metaplay thus documents a confrontation be­

tween two dramatic forces. Don Juan is opposed by theatrical

Seville, which attempts to compel him to accept a role on its

stage. Similarly, the entrepreneurs seek to induce Quitt to

perform his role according to the "Dramaturgie des herrschenden

Systems." In Diirrenmatt' s plays, the hero is opposed by an

unpredictable world which takes the stage as the "schlimmst-

mogliche Wendung" of the fable. In the confrontation between

these two playwrights, the external dramatist assumes an in­

creasingly- dominant role. In the earlier metaplays— Don Juan 196 and Romulus— the individual is either partially successful in outdramatizing his opponent and thus preserving his individu­ ality, or he is able to assume a new, meaningful role despite his defeat. The later metaplays of Durrenmatt and Handke, how­ ever, are increasingly pessimistic. The two most recent works discussed— Die Wiedertaufer (1967) and Die Unverniinftigen sterben aus (1973)— describe the ultimate consequences of an increasingly threatening world: total escape into the self or total capitulation. Bockelson retreats into his own dramatic imagination; Quitt capitulates to his class script. Both plays document the surrender of the true self to an artificial role. Although he succeeds in outdramatizing the world around him, Bockelson loses his true self in a kaleidoscope of theatrical disguises. For Quitt, individuality and class role have become identical, and he kills himself in despair.

As the distinction between individual and role is eradi­ cated, so is the basis of metatheater itself. Increasingly, the individual is less a dramatist than a compulsive actor who finds his true "identity" only within his roles. For

Bockelson and Quitt, role-playing is no longer just a tactic;

it has become and end in itself, a necessary preoccupation

induced by an increasingly self-assertive environment. BIBLIOGRAPHY

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______. "Zur Soziologie des modernen Dramas." Archiv fiir Sozialwissenschaft und Sozialpolitik, 38(1914), 303- 345; 622-706.

Manfull, Lowell Lyndon. "Drama as Role-Playing: A Technique for Analysis." Dissertation Abstracts, 22(1961), 2105- 2106 (University of Minnesota) .

Moliere. Theatre. Geneva: Editions d'art Albert Skira, 1943 . de Molina, Tirso. Obras. Madrid: Ediciones de "la Lectura," 1910.

Nelson, Robert J. Play within a Play. The Dramatist1s Con­ ception of his Art. Shakespeare to Anouilh. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1958.

Pache, Walter. "Pirandellos Urenkel. Formen des Spiels im Spiel bei Max Frisch und Tom Stoppard." Sprachkunst, 4(1973), 124-141.

Radford, Colin. "Theatre within the Theatre." Nottingham French Studies, ll(0ctober, 1972), 76-90.

Sontag, Susan. "The death of tragedy" in Against Interpreta­ tion . New York: Dell, 1966, pp. 132-139.

Szondi, Peter. Theorie des modernen Dramas. 3rd ed. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1966.

Three Classic Don Juan Plays. Ed. Oscar Mandel. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1971.

Max Frisch

Primary

Frisch, Max. Stilcke 1. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972 . 199

Stiicke 2. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag. 1973 .

______. Don Juan oder die Liebe zur Geometrie (original version, 195 2) in Spectaculum I_. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1960, pp. 321-370.

______. Dramaturgisches. Ein Briefwechsel mit Walter Hollerer. Berlin: Colloquium Verlag, 1969.

______. Offentlichkeit als Partner. 4th ed. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972.

______. Tagebuch 1946-1949. Frankfurt am Main: Suhr­ kamp Verlag, 1974.

______. Interview in Bienek, Horst. Werkstattgesprache mit Schriftstellern. Munich: Carl Hanser Verlag, 196 2, pp. 21-32.

Secondary

Durzak, Manfred. Durrenmatt, Frisch, Weifi. Deutsches Drama der Gegenwart zwischen Kritik und Utopie. Stuttgart: Reclam Verlag, 1972.

Geisser, Heinrich. Die Entstehung von Max Frischs Dramaturgie der Permutation. Sprache und Dichtung, Neue Folge, Vol. 21. Bern: Verlag Paul Haupt, 197 3.

Gniig, Hitrud. Don Juans theatralische Existenz. Typ und Gattung. Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1974.

Gontrum, Peter. "Max Frisch's Don Juan: A New look at a Traditional Hero." Comparative Literature Studies, 2 (1965), 117-123.

Hoffmann, Charles W. "The Search for Self, Inner Freedom, and Relatedness in the Novels of Max Frisch" in The Con­ temporary Novel in German. A Symposium. Ed. Robert R. Hextner. 2nd ed. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1969, pp. 91-113.

Jurgensen, Manfred. Max Frisch. Die Dramen. Bern: Lukianos- Verlag Hans Erpf, 1968.

Karasek, Hellmuth. Max Frisch. 5th ed. Friedrichs Dramatiker des Welttheaters, 17. Velber bei Hannover: Friedrich Verlag, 1974.

Matthews, Robert J. "Theatricality and Deconstruction in Max Frisch's Don Juan." Modern Language Notes, 86(1972), 742-752. 200

Matthias, Klaus. "Die Dramen von Max Frisch. Strukturen und Aussagen." Literatur in Wissenschaft und Unterricht, 3(1970), 129-150 and 236-252.

Petersen, Klaus-Dietrich. Max Frisch—Bibliographie in Ober Max Frisch. Ed. Thomas Beckermann. 5th ed. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1974, pp. 305-344.

Riif, Paula. "Zu Max Frischs Don Juan oder die Liebe zur Geometrie.11 Schweizer Rundschau, 1963 , Heft 3 , 186-187 .

Schau, Albrecht. "Max Frisch. Dichtung der Permutation" in Max Frisch— Beitrage zu einer Wirkungsgeschichte. Ed. Albrecht Schau. Materialien zur deutschen Literatur, 2. Freiburg im Breisgau: Universitatsverlag Becksmann, 1971, pp. 353-356.

Weise, Adelheid. Untersuchungen zur Thematik und Struktur der Dramen von Max Frisch. Goppinger Arbeiten zur Germanist ik, No. 7. Goppingen: Verlag Alfred Kiimmerle, 1969.

Wintsch-Spiess, Monika. Zum Problem der Identitat im Werk Max Frischs. Ziirich: Juris-Verlag, 1965.

Friedrich Diirrenmatt

Primary

Diirrenmatt, Friedrich. Komodien _I. 7th ed. Zurich: Verlag der Arche. 1965.

Komodien II und friihe Stiicke. Ziirich: Verlag der Arche,

Komodien III. Zurich: Verlag der Arche, 1970.

PortrSt eines Planeten. Ziirich: Verlag der Arche , 1971.

Gesammelte Horspiele. Ziirich: Verlag der Arche, 1961.

Die Stadt. Prosa I-IV. Ziirich: Verlag der Arche , 1952.

Theater-Schriften und Reden. Ziirich: Verlag der Arche , 1966.

Dramaturgisches und Kritisches. Theater- Schriften und Reden II. Ziirich: Verlag der Arche, 1972 . 201

______. Interview in Bienek, Horst. Werk- stattgesprache mit Schriftstellern. Munich: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1962, pp. 100-112.

Secondary

Allemann, Beda. "Die Struktur des Komodie bei Frisch und Diirrenmatt" in Das deutsche Lustspiel II. Ed. Hans Steffen. Gottingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1969, pp. 200-217.

Arnold, Armin. Friedrich Diirrenmatt. Kopfe des XX. Jahr- hunderts, Vol. 57. Berlin: Colloquium Verlag, 1969.

Durzak, Manfred. Diirrenmatt, Frisch, Weifi. Deutsches Drama der Gegenwart zwischen Kritik und Utopie. Stuttgart: Reclam Verlag, 197 2.

Fickert, Kurt J. To Heaven and Back. The New Morality in the Plays of Friedrich Diirrenmatt. Studies in the Ger­ manic Languages and Literatures, No. 5. Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 197 2.

Grimm, Reinhold. "Parodie und Groteske im Werk Diirrenmatts" in Der unbequeme Diirrenmatt. Theater unserer Zeit, Vol. 4. Basel: Basilius Presse, 1962, pp. 71-96.

Hansel, Johannes. Friedrich Diirrenmatt-Bibliographie. Biblio- graphien zum Studium der deutschen Sprache und Literatur, 3. Bad Homburg v.d.H.: Verlag Dr. Max Gehlen, 1968.

Heidsieck, Arnold. Das Groteske und das Absurde im modernen Drama. Sprache und Literatur, 53. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer Verlag, 1969.

Jauslin, Christian Markus. Friedrich Diirrenmatt. Zur Struktur seiner Dramen. Ziirich: Juris-Verlag, 1964.

Jenny, Urs. Friedrich Diirrenmatt. 4th ed. Friedrichs Drama- tiker des Welttheaters, 6. Velber bei Hannover: Friedrich Verlag, 1970.

Jonas, Klaus W. "Die Diirrenmatt-Literatur (1947-1967)." Borsenblatt fiir den deutschen Buchhandel (Frankfurter Ausgabe), 5 9T23 July 1968), 1725-1736.

Mayer, Hans. "Friedrich Diirrenmatt." Zeitschrift fiir deutsche Philologie, 87(1968), 482-498.

Neumann, Gerhard. "Friedrich Diirrenmatt. Dramaturgie der Panne" in Neumann, G. , Schrdder, J., Karnick, M. Diirrenmatt> 202

Frisch, Weifi. Drei Entwiirf e zum Drama der Gegenwart. Munich: Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1969.

Oberle, Werner. "Grundsatzliches zum Werk Friedrich Diirrenmatts" in Der unbequeme Diirrenmatt. Theater unserer Zeit, Vol. 4. Basel: Basilius Presse, 1962, pp. 9-29.

Peppard, Murray B. Friedrich Diirrenmatt. Twayne's World Authors Series, 87. New York: Twayne Publishers, Inc., 1969.

Pestalozzi, Karl. "Friedrich Diirrenmatt" in Deutsche Literatur im 20. Jahrhundert. Strukturen und Gestalten. Ed. Otto Mann and Wolfgang Rothe. 5th ed. Bern: Francke Verlag, 1967, II, 385-402.

Profitlich, Ulrich. Friedrich Diirrenmatt. Komodienbegriff und Komodienstruktur. Eine Einfiihrung. Sprache und Literatur, 86. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer Verlag, 1973.

Steiner, Jacob. "Die Komodie Diirrenmatts . " Deutschunterricht, 15(1963), Heft 6, 81-98.

Syberberg, Hans-Jurgen. Zum Drama Friedrich Diirrenmatts . Zwei Modellinterpretationen zur Wesensdeutung des modernen Dramas. Diss. Munich, 1962. Munich: Verlag UNI-Druck, 1965.

Peter Handke

Primary

Handke, Peter. Stiicke 1. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972 .

_. Stiicke 2. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1973,

_. Kaspar. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1967

_ . Die Unverniinftigen sterben aus . Frankfurt am M a i n : Suhrkamp Verlag, 197 3.

. Die Stunde der wahren Empfindung. Frankfurt am Mam: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1975.

Ich bin ein Bewohner des Elfenbeinturms. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972. 203

______. "Ich will iiber das schreiben, was die Leute verdrSngen. Ein Gesprach zwischen Peter Handke und Heinz Ludwig Arnold." Die Zeit, 12 March 197 6.

Secondary

Angermeyer, Hans Christoph. Zuschauer im Drama. Brecht— Diirrenmatt— Handke. Frankfurt am Main: Athenaum Verlag, 1971.

Bleyl, Hansjoachim. "Handkes schwarzer Carneval." Neue Rundschau, 85(1975), Heft 3, 528-531.

Falkenstein, Henning. Peter Handke. Kdpfe des XX. Jahrhun- derts, Vol. 75. Berlin: -Colloquium Verlag, 1974.

Hamm, Peter. "Der neueste Fall von deutscher Innerlichkeit: Peter Handke” in Ober Peter Handke. Ed. Michael Scharang. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 197 2, pp. 304-314.

HeiJSenbiittel, Helmut. "Peter Handke und seine Dichtung." Universitas, 25(1970), Heft 2, 121-129.

Hern, Nicholas. Peter Handke. Modern Literature Monographs. New York: Friedrich Ungar, 1972.

Resting, Marianne. "Die Sozialwelt als Platitude" in Panorama des zeitgenossischen Theaters. 58 literarische Portrats. Munich: Piper Verlag, 1969, pp. 341-346.

Kuchenbacker, Karin. "Das Theater des Peter Handke." Der Deutschunterricht, 23(1971), Heft 5, 5-14.

Miiller, Harald. "Peter Handke— Bibliographie" in tfber Peter Handke. Ed. Michael Scharang. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1972, pp. 358-393.

Nef, Ernst. "Peter Handke— Identifikation und Sprache." Universitas, 26(1971), Heft 6, 603-610.

Schultz, Uwe. Peter Handke. Friedrichs Dramatiker des Welt- theaters, 67. Velber bei Hannover: Friedrich Verlag, 1973.