_Parsifal_.
This "suffering with others" (sympathy, Mitleid), this "pain which
unites," overflows from the work of Andreas Latzko.
_November 15, 1917._
"Les Tablettes," Geneva, December, 1917.
XIX
VOX CLAMANTIS....[43]
After the glacial torpor of the early days of the war, mutilated art
begins to bloom anew. The irrepressible song of the soul wells up out of
suffering. Man is not merely, as he is apt to boast, a reasoning animal
(he might, with better ground, term himself an unreasoning one); he is a
singing animal; he can no more get on without singing than without
bread. We learn it amid the very trials through which we are passing
to-day. Although the general suppression of liberty in Europe has
doubtless deprived us of the deeper music, of the most intimate
confessions, we nevertheless hear great voices rising from every land.
Some of these, coming from the armies, sing in sad and epic strains.
See, for example, _Under Fire_ by Henri Barbusse, and the heart-rending
tales issued by Andreas Latzko under the collective title of _Men in
Battle_. Others express the pain and horror of those who, remaining at
home, look on at the butchery without taking part in it, and who, being
inactive, suffer all the more from the torments of thought. To this
category belong the impassioned poems of Marcel Martinet[44] and P. J.
Jouve.[45] Paying less attention to suffering and more concerned with
understanding, the English novelists, H. G. Wells[46] and Douglas
Goldring,[47] give a faithful analysis of the distressing errors amid
which they move and which they themselves by no means escape. Yet
others, finally, taking refuge in the contemplation of the past,
rediscover there the same circle of misfortunes and of hopes--rediscover
the "eternal cycle." They cloak their grief in the fashions of other
days, thus ennobling it and despoiling it of its poisoned dart. From the
lofty eyrie of the ages, set free by art, the soul contemplates
suffering as in a vision, no longer aware whether that suffering belongs
to the present or to the past. Stefan Zweig's _Jeremias_ is the finest
contemporary specimen known to me of this august melancholy which,
looking beyond the bloody drama of to-day, is able to see in it the
eternal tragedy of mankind.
Not without struggle can such serene regions be attained. A friend of
Zweig before the war, his friend to-day, I have witnessed all that was
endured by this free European spirit whom the war robbed of that which
he had held most dear; robbed him of his artistic and humanist faith,
thereby depriving him of any reason for existence. The letters he wrote
me during the first year of the war reveal his agonising torments in all
their tragical beauty. By degrees, however, the immensity of the
catastrophe, communion with the universal sorrow, restored to him the
calm which resigns itself to destiny; for he came to see that destiny
leads to God, who is the union of souls. Of the Hebrew race, he has
drawn his inspiration from the Bible. It was easy to find there
analogous instances of national madness, of the fall of empires, and of
heroic patience. One figure, above all, attracted him, that of the great
forerunner, Jeremiah the persecuted prophet, foretelling the woeful
peace which was to flourish upon the ruins.
Zweig devotes to Jeremiah a dramatic poem, which I propose to analyse,
making extensive quotations. The work consists of nine scenes. It is
written in prose mingled with verse, sometimes free, sometimes rhymed,
the transition from prose to verse occurring when emotion breaks from
control. The form is ample and rhetorical. There is a majestic balance
in the exposition of the thought; but the poem would perhaps have been
better for condensation, for this would have left more to the reader's
imagination. The common people play a leading part in the action. Their
sallies and counter-sallies jostle one another; but at the close their
voices unite in measured choruses, breathing the thoughts of the
prophet, the guardian of Israel. Zweig has steered his course skilfully
between the dangers of archaism and anachronism. We rediscover our
preoccupations of the moment in this epic of the fall of Jerusalem; but
we find them as the faithful of recent centuries found day by day in
their Bible the light which lightened their road in hours of
difficulty--sub specie aeternitatis.
"Jeremiah is our prophet," Stefan Zweig said to me. "He has spoken for
us, for our Europe. The other prophets came at their due time. Moses
spoke and acted. Jesus died and acted. Jeremiah spoke in vain. His
people failed to understand him. The times were not ripe. He could only
prophesy, and bewail the approaching doom. He could do nothing to
prevent what was to happen. Ours is a like fate."
But there are defeats more fruitful than victories; there are griefs
more illuminating than joys. Zweig's poem shows this magnificently. At
the end of the drama, Israel has been crushed. The Jews, leaving their
ruined city, going into exile, pass towards the future filled with an
inward radiance never known to them before, strong by reason of the
sacrifices which have revealed to them their mission.
* * * * *
SCENE ONE
THE PROPHET'S AWAKENING.
A night in early spring. All is quiet. Jeremiah, awakened with a start
by a vision of Jerusalem in flames, goes up to the terrace which
overlooks his dwelling and the town. He is "poisoned" by dreams,
obsessed by the oncoming storm, although peace still broods over the
scene. He does not understand the fierce energy which surges up in him;
but he knows that it comes from God and he awaits his orders, uneasy and
under the spell of hallucination. His mother calls to him, and at first
he imagines her voice to be the voice of God. To the terrified woman he
foretells the ruin of Jerusalem. She implores him to be silent; his
words seem to her sacrilegious and arouse her anger; to close his mouth,
she tells him he will have her curse if he makes his sinister dreams
known to others. But Jeremiah is no longer his own man. He follows the
unseen Master.
SCENE TWO
THE WARNING.
In the great square of Jerusalem, in front of the temple and the king's
palace, the people acclaim the Egyptian envoys who have brought with
them a daughter of the Pharaoh to wed King Zedekiah, and who are to
cement an alliance against the Chaldeans. Abimelech the general, Pashur
the high priest, Hananiah the official prophet who prophesies falsely in
order to inflame the passion of the people, incite the crowd to frenzy.
Young Baruch is one of the most violent among those who clamour for war.
Jeremiah resists the stream of fury. He condemns the war. He is
immediately charged with having been bought by Chaldean gold. Hananiah,
the false prophet, sings the praises of "the holy war, the war of God."
JEREMIAH. Do not bring God's name into the war. Men make war, not God.
No war is holy; no death is holy; life alone is holy.
BARUCH. Thou liest, thou liest! Life is given us solely that we may
sacrifice it to God.
The crowd is carried away by the hope of an easy victory. A woman spits
upon Jeremiah the pacifist. Jeremiah curses her.
JEREMIAH. Cursed be the man who thirsts for blood! But seven times
cursed be the woman who thirsts for war. War will devour the fruit of
her body.
His violence is terrifying. He is charged to hold his peace. He refuses,
for Jerusalem is within him, and Jerusalem does not wish to die.
JEREMIAH. The walls of Jerusalem stand erect in my heart, and they do
not wish to fall.... Safeguard peace!
The fickle crowd, despite itself, is being swayed by his words, when
General Abimelech returns in a fury. He has just left the king's
council, where a majority has voted against the alliance with Egypt. In
his wrath, he has thrown away his sword. Young Israel, through the voice
of Baruch, acclaims him as a national hero. The high priest blesses him.
Hananiah, prophet and demagogue, fires the crowd to flock to the palace
that they may force the king to declare war. Jeremiah tries to stop the
yelling mob. He is knocked down. Young Baruch strikes him with a sword.
The crowd passes on.
But Baruch, appalled, stays with his victim, staunches the blood which
flows from the wound, and begs for pardon. Jeremiah, helped to his feet,
thinks only of rejoining the maddened crowd, to cry his message of
peace. This inviolable energy astounds Baruch, who had regarded as a
coward anyone who should condemn action or preach peace.
JEREMIAH. Dost thou imagine that peace is not action, that peace is not
the action of all actions? Day by day thou shouldst wrest it from the
mouth of the liars and from the heart of the crowd. Thou shouldst stand
alone against all.... Those who desire peace are for ever fighting.
Baruch is overcome.
BARUCH. I believe in thee, for I have seen thy blood poured forth for
thy words.
Jeremiah vainly endeavours to dissuade him. The prophet is unwilling
that Baruch should share in his dreams and his awesome fate. But Baruch
insists upon joining Jeremiah, and the young man's ardent faith is
superadded to and redoubles that of the prophet.
JEREMIAH. Thou believest in me when I myself scarcely believe in my own
dreams.... Thou hast made my blood flow and hast mingled thy will with
mine.... Thou art the first to believe in me, the first-born of my
faith, the son of my anguish.
The crowd flocks back into the square, uttering cries of delight, for
war has been decided on. Heading a solemn procession, the king appears,
gloomy, with naked sword. Hananiah dances before him, like David.
Jeremiah cries out to the king, "Throw down the sword. Save Jerusalem!
Peace! God's peace!" His words are drowned by the shouting, and he is
pushed aside. But the king has heard. He halts for a moment, looking
round and trying to find the speaker. Then, sword in hand, he marches
forward, and goes up into the temple.
SCENE THREE
RUMOURS.
The war has begun. The crowd is awaiting news. They talk at random,
catching at the words which please them, or shaping utterances which
express their wishes. Longing for victory, they imagine it won. In
masterly fashion, Zweig shows how a vague rumour spreads in the
hallucinated mind of the multitude, to attain in an instant a certainty
surpassing that of truth. Details pass from mouth to mouth; precise
figures of the false victory are given. Jeremiah, the defeatist prophet,
is mocked. The bird of ill-omen is informed that the Chaldeans have been
crushed, and that King Nebuchadnezzar has been slain. Jeremiah, at first
dumb with astonishment, thanks God for having turned to derision his
gloomy forebodings. Then, pricked by the foolish pride of the people,
who become brutishly intoxicated with the victory and have learned
nothing from their trials, he scourges them with new threats.
JEREMIAH. Your joy will be brief.... God will rend it asunder like a
curtain.... Already the messenger is afoot, the bearer of evil tidings,
he is running, he is running; his swift footsteps lead towards
Jerusalem. Already, already, he is at hand, the messenger of fear, the
messenger of terror, already the messenger is at hand.
And lo, the messenger enters, panting for breath. Before he speaks,
Jeremiah trembles with fear.
MESSENGER. The enemy is victorious. The Egyptians have come to terms
with the Chaldeans. Nebuchadnezzar is marching on Jerusalem.
The crowd utters cries of terror. In the king's name a herald issues the
call to arms. Jeremiah, the seer whose visions have been too faithfully
fulfilled, Jeremiah from whose neighbourhood the panic-stricken folk
withdraw, vainly implores God to convict him of falsehood.
SCENE FOUR
THE WATCH ON THE RAMPARTS.
Moonlight. On the walls of Jerusalem. The enemy is at work. In the
distance Samaria and Gilgal are seen in flames. Two sentinels are
conversing. One, a professional soldier, neither can nor will see
anything beyond his orders. The other, who seems one of our brothers of
to-day, is trying to understand, and his heart is racked.
SECOND SOLDIER. Why does God hurl the nations against one another? Is
there not room for all beneath the heavens? What are nations?... What
puts death between the nations? What is it which sows hatred when there
is room and to spare for life, and when there is abundance of scope for
love? I can't understand, I can't understand.... This crime cannot be
God's will. He has given us our lives that we may live them.... War does
not come from God. Whence comes it then?
He thinks that if he could talk matters over with a Chaldean, they would
come to an understanding. Why should not they talk things over? He
would like to summon one, to hold out a friendly hand. The other soldier
grows angry.
FIRST SOLDIER. You shall not do that. They are our enemies, and it is
our duty to hate them.
SECOND SOLDIER. Why should I hate them if my heart knows no reason for
hatred?
FIRST SOLDIER. They began the war; they were the aggressors.
SECOND SOLDIER. Yes, that is what we say in Jerusalem. In Babylon,
perchance, they use the same words of us. If we could talk things over
with them, we might get some light on the question.... Whom do we serve
by compassing their death?
FIRST SOLDIER. We serve God and the king our master.
SECOND SOLDIER. But God said, and it is written, Thou shalt not kill.
FIRST SOLDIER. It is likewise written, An eye for an eye and a tooth for
a tooth.
SECOND SOLDIER (sighs). Many things are written. Who can understand them
all?
He continues to bewail himself aloud. The first soldier urges him to be
silent.
SECOND SOLDIER. How can a man help questioning himself, how can he be
other than uneasy, at such an hour? Do I know where I am and how long I
have still to stand on guard?... How can I fail, while I live, to
question the meaning of life?... Maybe death is already within me;
perchance the questioner is no longer life, but death.
FIRST SOLDIER. You are only tormenting yourself about nothings.
SECOND SOLDIER. God has given us a heart precisely that it may torment
us.
Jeremiah and Baruch appear on the ramparts. Jeremiah leans over the
parapet and gazes down. All that he is now looking at, these fires,
these myriad tents, this first night of the siege, are things with which
he is already familiar from his visions. There is not a star in heaven
which he has not seen in this place. He can no longer deny that God has
chosen him. He must give his message to the king, for he knows the end;
he sees it; he describes it in prophetic verses.
King Zedekiah, full of fear, making his rounds with Abimelech, hears the
voice of Jeremiah, and recognises it as the voice of the one who wished
to hold him back on the threshold of the declaration of war. He would
pay heed now, could the decision be made over again. Jeremiah assures
him that it is never too late to ask peace. Zedekiah is unwilling to be
the first to move. What if his proposals were rejected?
JEREMIAH. Happy are they who are rejected for justice' sake.
But what if people laugh at him? asks Zedekiah.
JEREMIAH. It is better to be followed by the laughter of fools than by
the tears of widows.
Zedekiah refuses. He would rather die than humble himself. Jeremiah
curses him and calls him the murderer of his people. The soldiers wish
to throw him from the wall. Zedekiah restrains them. His calm, his
forbearance, perplex Jeremiah, who lets the king depart without making
any further effort to save him. The decisive moment has been lost.
Jeremiah accuses himself of weakness; he feels himself impotent, and he
despairs; he knows only how to cry aloud and to utter curses. He does
not know how to do good. Baruch consoles him. At Jeremiah's suggestion,
Baruch decides to climb down the walls into the Chaldean camp, that he
may parley with Nebuchadnezzar.
SCENE FIVE
THE PROPHET'S ORDEAL.
Jeremiah's mother is dying. The sick woman knows nothing of what is
happening outside. Since she drove her son from home she has been
suffering and waiting. Both mother and son are proud, and neither will
make the first advance. Ahab, the old servitor, has taken it upon
himself to fetch Jeremiah. The sick woman awakens and calls her son. He
appears, but dares not draw near, because of the curse which weighs on
him. His mother stretches out her arms. They embrace one another. In
affectionate dialogue, versified, they recount their love and their
grief. The mother rejoices at seeing her son once more. She believes him
to be convinced that he was mistaken in the past, that his visions were
false. "I was certain," says she, "that the enemy would never, never
besiege Jerusalem." Jeremiah cannot hide his uneasiness. She notices it,
grows uneasy herself, asks questions, guesses, "There is war in Israel!"
Panic seizes her; she tries to leave her bed. Jeremiah endeavours to
quiet her. She begs him to swear that there is no enemy, no danger. The
attendants whisper to Jeremiah, "Swear! swear!" Jeremiah cannot lie. The
mother dies terror-stricken. Hardly has she breathed her last when
Jeremiah swears the falsehood. But the oath comes too late. The enraged
witnesses chase forth the unfeeling son who has killed his mother. An
angry crowd wishes to stone him. The high priest has him thrown into
prison, to gag his prophecies. Jeremiah accepts the sentence
unrepiningly. He wishes to live under shadow of night, he is eager to be
delivered from this world, to be brother of the dead.
SCENE SIX
MIDNIGHT VOICES.
The king's room. Zedekiah, at the window, is looking out over the
moonlit town. He envies other kings, who can hold counsel with their
gods, or who can learn the will of the gods from soothsayers. "It is
terrible to be the servant of a God who is always silent; whom no one
has ever seen." The king has to advise others; but who will advise the
king?
Nevertheless, here are his five closest counsellors, whom he has
summoned to his presence: Pashur the high priest; Hananiah the prophet;
Imri the elder; Abimelech the general; Nahum the steward. For eleven
months Jerusalem has been besieged. No help is coming. What is to be
done? All agree that it is essential to hold out. Nahum alone is gloomy;
there remains food for three weeks only. Zedekiah asks their opinion
concerning the opening of negotiations with Nebuchadnezzar. They are
opposed to it, save Imri and Nahum. The king tells them that an envoy
from Nebuchadnezzar has already come. He is summoned. Baruch is the
envoy. He states the terms of the Chaldeans. Nebuchadnezzar, admiring
the courageous resistance of the Jews, agrees to spare their lives if
they open their gates. All that he demands is the humiliation of
Zedekiah, who was king by his grace and who shall be king once more, by
Nebuchadnezzar's grace, when his fault has been atoned. Let Zedekiah
abase himself before the victor, yoke on neck and crown in hand!
Zedekiah is indignant, and Abimelech supports his objection. But the
others, who think that the Jews are getting off cheaply, explain to the
king how splendid will be his sacrifice. Zedekiah, overborne, agrees; he
will resign the crown to his son.--But Nebuchadnezzar has additional
demands. He wishes to look upon the One who is Master in Israel; he
wishes to enter the temple. Pashur and Hananiah are outraged by this
sacrilegious suggestion. The matter is put to the vote. Abimelech
abstains, saying that his business is to act, not to discuss. The others
are two for and two against. It devolves on the king to give the casting
vote. He tells the advisers to leave him to himself that he may think
the matter over. He is on the point of constraining himself to accept
the Chaldeans' terms, when Baruch admits that the visit to
Nebuchadnezzar to sue for peace was made at Jeremiah's instigation.
Zedekiah is enraged at this name which he thought he had heard the last
of. He has immured Jeremiah's body, but the prophet's thought continues
to act, and to cry "Peace!" The king's pride is wounded, and he refuses
to yield to the ascendancy of the prophet. He despatches Baruch to the
Chaldeans with an insulting answer. But hardly has Baruch departed, when
Zedekiah regrets his precipitancy. He vainly tries to sleep. Jeremiah's
voice fills his thoughts, seems to break the silence of the night.
Sending for the prophet, the king quietly recounts Nebuchadnezzar's
terms, but does not say that they have been refused. He endeavours to
secure Jeremiah's approval for the course he has chosen, hoping thus to
appease his conscience. But the prophet reads his hidden thoughts, and
utters lamentations upon Jerusalem. Soon, seized with frenzy, Jeremiah
portrays the destruction of the city. He foretells Zedekiah's
punishment; the king's eyes will be put out after he has witnessed the
death of his three sons. Zedekiah, furious at first and then quailing,
throws himself on his bed, weeping, and pleading for mercy. Jeremiah
goes on unheeding, down to the final curse. Then he awakens from his
trance, no less shattered than his victim. Zedekiah, no longer angry, no
longer in revolt, recognises the prophet's power; he believes in
Jeremiah, believes in the terrible predictions.
ZEDEKIAH. Jeremiah, I did not want war. I was forced to declare war, but
I loved peace. And I loved thee because of thy love for peace. Not with
a light heart did I take up arms.... I have suffered greatly, as thou
canst testify when the time comes. Be thou near me if thy words are
fulfilled.
JEREMIAH. I shall be near thee, Zedekiah my brother. The prophet is
leaving, when the king recalls him.
ZEDEKIAH. Death is upon me, and I see thee for the last time. Thou hast
cursed me, Jeremiah. Bless me, now, ere we part.
JEREMIAH. The Lord bless thee, and keep thee in all thy ways. May the
light of His countenance shine upon thee, and may He give thee peace.
ZEDEKIAH (as in a dream). May He give us peace.
SCENE SEVEN
THE SUPREME AFFLICTION.
The following morning, in the great square before the temple. The
famished crowd clamours for bread, prepares to attack the palace,
threatens Nahum the forestaller. Abimelech, to rescue him, sends
soldiers to the attack. Amid the riot, a voice is heard crying that the
enemy has forced one of the gates. The people utter wails of terror,
cursing king, priests, and prophets. Their thoughts fly to Jeremiah, who
alone foretold the truth. He is their only hope. They break into his
prison, and bring him forth, in triumph, shouting: "Saint! Master!
Samuel! Elijah!... Save us!"--Jeremiah, heavy-hearted, does not at first
understand. When he hears them accuse the king of having sold the
people, he exclaims, "It is false!"
THE CROWD. They have sacrificed us. We wanted peace.
JEREMIAH. Too late!... Why do you put your transgressions on the king's
shoulders? You wanted war.
THE CROWD. No!... Not I!... No!... Not I!... It was the king!... Not
I!... Not one of us!
JEREMIAH. You all wanted the war, all, all! Your hearts are fickle....
The very ones who are now clamouring for peace, I have myself heard
howling for war.... Woe unto you, O people! You drive before every wind.
You have fornicated with war, and shall now bear the fruit of war! You
have played with the sword, and shall now taste its edge!
The crowd, terrified, clamours for a miracle. Jeremiah refuses. He
speaks.
JEREMIAH. Humble yourselves!... Let Jerusalem fall, if God will. Let the
temple fall. Let Israel be utterly destroyed and her name wiped out!...
Humble yourselves!
The people call him traitor. Jeremiah is seized with a fresh trance. In
a transport of love and faith, he welcomes the sufferings inflicted by
the beloved hand; he blesses trial, fire, death, shame, the enemy. The
people cry aloud: "Stone him! Crucify him!"--Jeremiah stretches out his
arms as on the cross. Hungry for martyrdom, he prophesies the Crucified.
He wishes to be crucified. And crucified he would be, did not fugitives
rush into the square, shouting: "The walls have fallen, the enemy is in
the town!"--The mob flees into the temple.
SCENE EIGHT
THE CONVERSION.