Part 5 (1/2)
One of the most striking and, unless cla.s.sed among his numerous other pathological traits, one of the most puzzling of Lenau's characteristics is the perverseness of his nature. His intimate friends were wont to explain it, or rather to leave it unexplained by calling it his ”Husarenlaune” when the poet would give vent to an apparently unprovoked and unreasonable burst of anger, and on seeing the consternation of those present, would just as suddenly throw himself into a fit of laughter quite as inexplicable as his rage. He takes delight in things which in the ordinarily constructed mind would produce just the reverse feeling. Speaking once of a particularly ill-favored person of his acquaintance he says: ”Eine so gewaltige Ha.s.slichkeit bleibt ewig neu und kann sich nie abnutzen. Es ist was Frisches darin, ich sehe sie gerne.”[122] And in not a few of his poems we see a certain predilection for the gruesome, the horrible. So in the remarkable figure employed in ”Faust:”
Die Traume, ungelehr'ge Bestien, schleichen Noch immer nach des Wahns verscharrten Leichen.[123]
This perverseness of disposition is in a large measure accounted for by the fact that Lenau was eternally at war with himself. Speaking in the most general way, Holderlin's Weltschmerz had its origin in his conflict with the outer world, Lenau's on the other hand must be attributed mainly to the unceasing conflict or ”Zwiespalt” within his breast. In his childhood a devout Roman Catholic, he shows in his ”Faust” (1833-36) a mind filled with scepticism and pantheistic ideas; ”Savonarola” (1837) marks his return to and glorification of the Christian faith; while in the ”Albigenser” (1838-42) the poet again champions complete emanc.i.p.ation of thought and belief. Only a few months elapsed between the writing of the two poems ”Wanderung im Gebirge” (1830), in which the most orthodox faith in a personal G.o.d is expressed, and ”Die Zweifler”
(1831). The only consistent feature of his poems is their profound melancholy. But Lenau's inner struggle of soul did not consist merely in his vacillating between religious faith and doubt; it was the conflict of instinct with reason. This is evident in his relations with Sophie Lowenthal. He knows that their love is an unequal one[124] and chides her for her coldness,[125] warning her not to humiliate him, not even in jest;[126] he knows too that his alternating moods of exaltation and dejection resulting from the intensity of his unsatisfied love are destroying him.[127] ”Oefter hat sich der Gedanke bei mir angemeldet: Entschlage dich dieser Abhangigkeit und gestatte diesem Weibe keinen so machtigen Einfluss auf deine Stimmungen. Kein Mensch auf Erden soll dich so beherrschen. Doch bald stiess ich diesen Gedanken wieder zuruck als einen Verrater an meiner Liebe, und ich bot mein reizbares Herz wieder gerne dar Deinen zartlichen Misshandlungen.--O geliebtes Herz!
missbrauche Deine Gewalt nicht! Ich bitte Dich, liebe Sophie!”[128] And yet, in spite of it all, he is unable to free himself from the thrall of pa.s.sion: ”Wie wird doch all mein Trotz und Stolz so gar zu nichte, wenn die Furcht in mir erwacht, da.s.s Du mich weniger liebest”;[129] and all this from the same pen that once wrote: ”das Wort Gnade hat ein Schuft erfunden.”[130]
But just as helpless as this defiant pride proved before his all-consuming love for Sophie, so strongly did it a.s.sert itself in all his other relations with men and things. A hasty word from one of his best friends could so deeply offend his spirit that, according to his own admission, all subsequent apologies were futile.[131] For Lenau, then, such an att.i.tude of hero wors.h.i.+p as that a.s.sumed by Holderlin towards Schiller, would have been an utter impossibility. We have already seen the extent to which he was over-awed (?) by Goethe's views when they were at variance with their own.[132] On another occasion he writes: ”Was Goethe uber Ruysdael faselt, kannte ich bereits.”[133]
Toward his critics his bearing was that of haughty indifference: ”Mag auch das Talent dieser Menschen,[TN1] mich zu insultieren, gross sein, mein Talent, sie zu verachten, ist auf alle Falle grosser.”[134] When his Fruhlingsalmanach of 1835 had been received with disfavor by the critics, he professed to be concerned only for his publisher: ”Ich meinerseits habe auf Liebe und Dank nie gezahlt bei meinen Bestrebungen.”[135] ”Die (Recensenten) wissen den Teufel von Poesie.”[136] Whether this real or a.s.sumed nonchalance would have stood the test of literary disappointments such as Holderlin's, it is needless to speculate.
Holderlin eagerly sought after happiness and contentment, but fortune eluded him at every turn. Lenau on the contrary thrust it from him with true ascetic spirit.
The mere thought of submitting to the ordinary process of negotiations and recommendations for a vacant professors.h.i.+p of Esthetics in Vienna is so repulsive to his pride, that the whole matter is at once allowed to drop, notwithstanding that he has been preparing for the place by diligent philosophical studies.[137] The asceticism with which he regarded life in general is expressed in a letter to Emilie Reinbeck, 1843, in which he says: ”Wer die Welt gestalten helfen will, muss darauf verzichten, sie zu geniessen.”[138] But more often this resignation becomes a defiant challenge: ”Ich habe dem Leben gegenuber nun einmal meine Stellung genommen, es soll mich nicht hinunterkriegen. Da.s.s mein Widerstand nicht der eines ruhigen Weisen ist, sondern viel Trotziges an sich hat, das liegt in meinen Temperament.”[139]
Another characteristic difference between Lenau's Weltschmerz and Holderlin's lies in the fact that the writings of the latter do not exhibit that absolute and abject despair which marks Lenau's lyrics.
Typical for both poets are the lines addressed by each to a rose:
Ewig tragt im Mutterschosse, Susse Konigin der Flur, Dich und mich die stille, grosse, Allbelebende Natur.
Roschen unser Schmuck veraltet, Sturm entblattert dich und mich, Doch der ew'ge Keim entfaltet Bald zu neuer Blute sich![140]
Unmistakable as is the melancholy strain of these verses, they are not without a hopeful afterthought, in which the poet turns from self-contemplation to a view of a larger destiny. Not so in Lenau's poem, ”Welke Rosen”:
In einem Buche blatternd, fand Ich eine Rose welk, zerdruckt, Und weiss auch nicht mehr, wessen Hand Sie einst fur mich gepfluckt.
Ach mehr und mehr im Abendhauch Verweht Erinn'rung; bald zerstiebt Mein Erdenlos; dann weiss ich auch Nicht mehr, wer mich geliebt.[141]
The intensely personal note of the last stanza is in marked contrast with the corresponding stanza of Holderlin's poem just quoted. Further evidence that Lenau's Weltschmerz was const.i.tutional, while Holderlin's was the result of experience, lies in this very fact, that nowhere do the writings of the former exhibit that stage of buoyant expectation, youthful enthusiasm, or hopeful striving, which we find in some of the earlier poems of the latter. In Holderlin's ode ”An die Hoffnung,” he apostrophizes hope as ”Holde! gutig Geschaftige!”
Die du das Haus der Trauernden nicht verschmahst.[142]
Lenau, in his poem of the same t.i.tle, tells us he has done with hope:
All dein Wort ist Windesfacheln; Hoffnung! dann nur trau' ich dir, Weisest du mit Trosteslacheln Mir des Todes Nachtrevier.[143]
Even his Faust gives himself over almost from the outset to abject despair.
Logically consequent upon this state of mind is the poet's oft-repeated longing for death. The persistency of this thought may be best ill.u.s.trated by a few quotations from poems and letters, arranged chronologically:
1831. Mir wird oft so schwer, als ob ich einen Todten in mir herumtruge.[144]
1833. Und mir verging die Jugend traurig, Des Fruhlings Wonne blieb versaumt, Der Herbst durchweht mich trennungsschaurig, Mein Herz dem Tod entgegentraumt.[145]
1837. Heute dachte ich ofter an den Tod, nicht mit bitterem Trotz und storrischem Verlangen, sondern mit freundlichem Appet.i.t.[146]
1837. Soll ich Dir alles sagen? Wisse, da.s.s ich wirklich daran dachte, mir den Tod zu geben.[147]
1838. Der Gedanke des Todes wird mir immer freundlicher, und ich verschwende mein Leben gerne.[148]
1838. Durchs Fenster kommt ein durres Blatt Vom Wind hereingetrieben; Dies leichte offne Brieflein hat Der Tod an mich geschrieben.[149]