and perception for the good that lies beyond it, and whilst it is
indulgent to a restless desire to produce, which leads it to nothing
perfect, robs itself of all the culture it might derive through the
perception of foreign excellences.
Poetical Dilettantism may be of two sorts. Either it neglects the
(indispensable) mechanical, and thinks enough done if it shows mind
and feeling; or it seeks poetry only in the mechanical, acquiring a
technical dexterity therein, but without spirit or significance. Both
are injurious, but the former rather injures the art, and the latter
the subject.
All Dilettanti are Plagiarists. They enervate and pull to pieces all
that is original in manner or matter, and at the same time imitate,
copy, and piece out their own emptiness with it. Thus the language gets
filled with phrases and formulae stolen from all sides, which have no
longer any meaning, and you may read whole books written in a fine
_style_ and containing nothing. In a word, all that is really beautiful
and good in true poetry is profaned, rendered common, and degraded.
_In Pragmatical Poetry_
All the disadvantages of Dilettantism in Lyrical Poetry apply here in
a far higher degree. Not the art alone, but the subject also, suffers
more.
Mixing up of different kinds.
_In Histrionic Art_
Caricature of one’s own faulty individuality.
Incapacitates the mind for all occupation, through the illusion of a
fantastic mode of viewing objects.
Expense of interest and passion, without fruit.
Eternal circle of monotonous, ever repeated, ineffectual activity.
(There is nothing so attractive to Dilettanti as rehearsals.
Professional actors hate them.)
Special forbearance and pampering of theatrical Dilettanti with
applause.
Eternal stimulation towards a passionate condition and behavior,
without balance.
Feeding all hateful passions, with the worst results for civic and
domestic existence.
Blunting the feeling for poetry.
Use of exalted language for commonplace sentiments.
A rag-fair of thoughts, commonplaces, and descriptions in the memory.
Pervading affectation and mannerism, reaching also into life.
Most injurious indulgence towards the indifferent and faulty, in a
public and quite personal case.
The general tolerance for the home-made becomes in this case more
pronounced.
Most pernicious use of amateur comedies for the education of children,
where it turns into caricature. In the same manner, the most dangerous
of all amusements for universities, &c.
Destruction of the ideality of art, because the Dilettante, not being
able to raise himself through the appropriation of artistic ideas and
traditions, must do all through a pathological reality.
THE THEORY OF LITERATURE
THE PRODUCTION OF A NATIONAL CLASSIC[5]
(_Literarischer Sansculottismus_)
(1795)
Those who consider it an absolute duty to connect definite concepts
with the words which they employ in speaking and writing will very
rarely use the expressions, “classical author” and “classical work.”
What are the conditions that produce a classical national author? He
must, in the first place, be born in a great commonwealth, which after
a series of great and historic events has become a happy and unified
nation. He must find in his countrymen loftiness of disposition, depth
of feeling, and vigor and consistency of action. He must be thoroughly
pervaded with the national spirit, and through his innate genius feel
capable of sympathizing with the past as well as the present. He must
find his nation in a high state of civilization, so that he will have
no difficulty in obtaining for himself a high degree of culture. He
must find much material already collected and ready for his use, and a
large number of more or less perfect attempts made by his predecessors.
And finally, there must be such a happy conjuncture of outer and inner
circumstances that he will not have to pay dearly for his mistakes, but
that in the prime of his life he may be able to see the possibilities
of a great theme and to develop it according to some uniform plan into
a well-arranged and well-constructed literary work.
If any one, who is endowed with clearness of vision and fairness of
mind, contrasts these conditions under which alone a classic writer,
especially a classic prose-writer, is possible, with the conditions
under which the best Germans of this century have worked, he will
respect and admire what they have succeeded in doing, and notice with
tactful regret in what they have failed.
An important piece of writing, like an important speech, can only
be the outgrowth of actual life. The author no more than the man of
action can fashion the conditions under which he is born and under
which he acts. Each one, even the greatest genius, suffers in some
respects from the social and political conditions of his age, just as
in other respects he benefits by them. And only from a real nation
can a national writer of the highest order be expected. It is unfair,
however, to reproach the German nation because, though closely held
together by its geographical position, it is divided politically. We do
not wish for Germany those political revolutions which might prepare
the way for classical works.
And so any criticism which approaches the question from such a false
point of view is most unfair. The critic must look at our conditions,
as they were and as they now are; he must consider the individual
circumstances under which German writers obtained their training, and
he will easily find the correct point of view. There is nowhere in
Germany a common centre of social culture, where men of letters might
gather together and perfect themselves, each one in his particular
field, in conformity with the same standard. Born in the most widely
scattered portions of the land, educated in the most diverse ways, left
almost entirely to themselves or to impressions derived from the most
varied environments, carried away by a special liking for this or that
example of German or foreign literature, the German men of letters are
forced, without any guidance, to indulge in all sorts of experiments,
even in botch-work, in order to try their powers. Only gradually and
after considerable reflection do they realize what they ought to do.
Practice alone teaches them what they can do. Again and again the
bad taste of a large public, which devours the bad and the good with
equal pleasure, leads them into doubt. Then again an acquaintance
with the educated though widely scattered population of the great
empire encourages them, and the common labors and endeavors of their
contemporaries fortify them. Such are the conditions under which German
writers finally reach man’s estate. Then concern for their own support,
concern for a family, force them to look about in the world at large,
and often with the most depressing feeling, to do work for which they
have no respect themselves, in order to earn a livelihood, so that
they can devote themselves to that kind of work with which alone their
cultured minds would occupy themselves. What German author of note will
not recognize himself in this picture, and will not confess with modest
regret that he often enough sighed for an opportunity to subordinate
sooner the peculiarities of his original genius to a general national
culture, which unfortunately did not exist?
For foreign customs and literatures, irrespective of the many
advantages they have contributed to the advancement of the higher
classes, have prevented the Germans from developing sooner as Germans.
And now let us look at the work of German poets and prose-writers of
recognized ability. With what care and what devotion did they not
follow in their labors an enlightened conviction! It is, for example,
not saying too much, when we maintain that a capable and industrious
literary critic, through a comparison of all the editions of our
Wieland,--a man of whom we may proudly boast in spite of the snarling
of all our literary parasites,--could develop the whole theory of
good taste simply from the successive corrections of this author, who
has so indefatigably worked toward his own improvement. We hope that
every librarian will take pains to have such a collection made, while
it is still possible, and then the next century will know how to make
grateful use of it.
In the future we may perhaps be bold enough to lay before the public a
history of the development of our foremost writers, as it is shown in
their works. We do not expect any confessions, but if they would only
themselves impart to us, as far as they see fit, those facts which
contributed most to their development, and those which stood most in
the way of it, the influence of the good they have done would become
still more far-reaching.
For if we consider what superficial critics take least notice of,--the
good fortune which young men of talent enjoy nowadays in being able to
develop earlier, and to attain sooner a pure style appropriate to the
subject at hand,--to whom do they owe it but to their predecessors in
the last half of this century, each of whom in his own way has trained
himself with unceasing endeavor amidst all sorts of hindrances?
Through this circumstance a sort of invisible school has sprung up, and
the young man who now enters it gets into a much larger and brighter
circle than the earlier author, who had to roam through it first
himself in the faint light of dawn, in order to help widen it gradually
and as it were only by chance. The pseudo-critic, who would light the
way for us with his little lamp, comes much too late; the day has
dawned, and we shall not close our shutters again.
Men do not give vent to their ill humor in good society; and he must be
in a very bad humor, who at this present moment, when almost everybody
writes well, denies that Germany has writers of the first order. One
does not need to go far to find an agreeable novel, a clever sketch, a
clearly written essay on this or that subject. What proof do not our
critical papers, journals, and compends furnish of a uniformly good
style? The Germans show a more and more thorough mastery of facts,
and the arrangement of the material steadily gains in clearness. A
dignified philosophy, in spite of all the opposition of wavering
opinions, makes them more and more acquainted with their intellectual
powers, and facilitates the use of them. The numerous examples of
style, the preliminary labors and endeavors of so many men, enable a
young man now sooner to present with clearness and grace and in an
appropriate manner what he has received from without and developed
within himself. Thus a healthy and fair-minded German sees the writers
of his nation at a fair stage of development, and is convinced that
the public, too, will not let itself be misled by an ill-humored
criticaster. Such a one ought to be barred from society, from which
every one should be excluded whose destructive work might only make
productive writers disheartened, the sympathetic public listless, and
the onlookers distrustful and indifferent.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] Reply to a critic who complained of “the poverty of the
Germans in great classical prose works,” and indiscriminately attacked
all the writers of the time.
GOETHE’S THEORY OF A WORLD LITERATURE
I (1827)
Everywhere we hear and read of the progress of the human race, of the
broader view of international and human relations. Since it is not my
office here to define or qualify these broad generalities, I shall
merely acquaint my friends with my conviction that there is being
formed a universal world-literature, in which an honorable rôle is
reserved for us Germans. All the nations review our work; they praise,
censure, accept, and reject, imitate and misrepresent us, open or close
their hearts to us. All this we must accept with equanimity, since this
attitude, taken as a whole, is of great value to us.
We experience the same thing from our own countrymen, and why should
the nations agree among themselves if fellow-citizens do not understand
how to unite and coöperate with each other? In a literary sense we have
a good start of the other nations; they will always be learning to
prize us more, even if they only show it by borrowing from us without
thanks, and making use of us without giving recognition of the fact.
As the military and physical strength of a nation develops from
its internal unity and cohesion, so must its æsthetic and ethical
strength grow gradually from a similar unanimity of feeling and
ideas. This, however, can only be accomplished with time. I look
back as a coöperator in this work over many years and reflect how
a German literature has been brought together out of heterogeneous,
if not conflicting, elements,--a literature which for that reason
is only peculiarly _one_ in the sense that it is composed in _one_
language,--which, however, out of a variety of wholly different
talents and abilities, minds and actions, criticisms and undertakings,
gradually draws out to the light of day the true inner soul of a people.
II (1827)
My sanguine suggestion that our present active epoch with its
increasing communication between the nations might soon hope for a
world-literature has been taken up by chance by our neighbors of the
west, who indeed can accomplish great things in this same direction.
They express themselves on the subject in the following manner:
_Le Globe_, Tome V., No. 91.
“Every nation indeed, when its turn comes, feels that tension which,
like the attractive power of physical bodies, draws one towards
the other, and eventually will unite in one universal sympathy all
the races of which humanity consists. The endeavor of scholars to
understand one another and compare one another’s work is by no means
new; the Latin language in former times has provided an admirable
vehicle for this purpose. But however they labored and strove, the
barriers by which peoples were separated began to divide them also,
and hurt their intellectual intercourse. The instrument of which they
made use could only satisfy a certain range and course of ideas,
so that they touched each other only through the intellect, instead
of directly through the feelings and through poetry. Travel, the
study of languages, periodical literature, have taken the place of
that universal language, and establish many intimate and harmonious
relations which _it_ could never cultivate. Even the nations that
devote themselves chiefly to trade and industry are most concerned
with this exchange of ideas. England, whose home activity is so
tremendous, whose life is so busy, that it seems as if it would be
able to study nothing but itself, at the present time is showing a
symptom of this need and desire to broaden its connection with the
outside world and widen its horizon. Its Reviews, with which we are
already familiar, are not enough for them; two new periodicals,
devoted especially to foreign literature, and coöperating together
towards that end, are to appear regularly.”
Of the first of these English journals, _The Foreign Quarterly Review_,
there are already two volumes in our hands; the third we expect
directly, and we shall in the course of these pages often refer to the
views of important men who are giving proof, with so much insight and
industry, of their interest in foreign literature.
But first of all we must confess that it made us smile to see,
at the end of the old year, more than thirty literary almanacs
(_Taschenbücher_), already noticed in an English journal,--not indeed
reviewed, but at least referred to with some characteristic comments.
It is pleasant that our productions of this sort meet with approval
and find a market over there, since we are also obliged to buy their
similar works for good money. Little by little we shall discover, I
suppose, whether the balance of this trade turns out to our advantage.
But these trivial considerations must give place to more serious ones.
Left to itself every literature will exhaust its vitality, if it is
not refreshed by the interest and contributions of a foreign one. What
naturalist does not take pleasure in the wonderful things that he sees
produced by reflection in a mirror? Now what a mirror in the field of
ideas and morals means, every one has experienced in himself, and once
his attention is aroused, he will understand how much of his education
he owes to it.
III (1828)
The _Edinburgh Review_, as well as the current _Foreign_ and _Foreign
Quarterly Reviews_, we can only mention briefly here.
These journals, as they win an ever wider public, will contribute in
the most effective way towards that universal world-literature for
which we are hoping. Only, we repeat, the idea is not that the nations
shall think alike, but that they shall learn how to understand each
other, and, if they do not care to love one another, at least that they
will learn to tolerate one another. Several societies now exist for
the purpose of making the British Isles acquainted with the continent,
and are working effectively and with a practical unanimity of opinion.
We continentals can learn from them the intellectual background of
the time across the channel, what they are thinking and what their
judgments about things are. On the whole, we acknowledge gladly that
they go about the work with intense seriousness, with industry and
tolerance and general good-will. The result for us will be that we
shall be compelled to think again of our own recent literature, which
we have in some measure already put to one side, and to consider and
examine it anew. Especially worthy of notice is their profitable method
of starting with any considerable author, and going over the whole
field in which he worked.
The methods and manner of these critics deserve our consideration in
many ways. Although varying on many points, yet there is an agreement
in criticism upon the main issues, which seems to indicate, if not
a coterie, yet a number of contemporary critics who have come to a
similar attitude and point of view. Worthy of our admiration are the
honest and sincere application, the careful labors, which they devote
to surveying our complex artistic and literary world, and to looking
over it with a just and fair attitude and vision. We shall hope often
to be able to return to them and their work.
IV (1829)
MORE ABOUT A WORLD LITERATURE
_The Difficulties_
If a world-literature, such as is inevitable with the ever-increasing
facility of communication, is to be formed in the near future, we must
expect from it nothing more and nothing different from what it can and
does accomplish.
The wide world, extensive as it is, is only an expanded fatherland,
and will, if looked at aright, be able to give us no more than what
our home soil can endow us with also. What pleases the crowd spreads
itself over a limitless field, and, as we already see, meets approval
in all countries and regions. The serious and intellectual meets with
less success, but those who are devoted to higher and more profitable
things will learn to know each other more quickly and more intimately.
For there are everywhere in the world such men, to whom the truth and
the progress of humanity are of interest and concern. But the road
which they pursue, the pace which they keep, is not to everybody’s
liking; the particularly aggressive wish to advance faster, and so
turn aside, and prevent the furthering of that which they could
promote. The serious-minded must therefore form a quiet, almost
secret, company, since it would be futile to set themselves against
the current of the day; rather must they manfully strive to maintain
their position till the flood has past. Their principal consolation,
and indeed encouragement, such men must find in the fact that truth
is serviceable. If they can discover this relation, and exhibit its
meaning and influence in a vital way, they will not fail to produce a
powerful effect, indeed one that will extend over a range of years.
_The Encouragements_
Since it is often profitable to present to the reader not one’s bald
thought, but rather to awaken and stimulate his own thinking, it may be
useful to recall the above observation which I had occasion to write
down some time ago.
The question whether this or that occupation to which a man devotes
himself is useful recurs often enough in the course of time, and must
come before us especially at this time when it is no longer permitted
to any one to live quietly according to his tastes, satisfied,
moderate, and without demands upon him. The external world is so
importunate and exciting that each one of us is threatened with being
carried away in the whirlpool. In order to satisfy his own needs, each
one sees himself compelled to attend almost instantaneously to the
requirements of others; and the question naturally arises whether he
has any skill or readiness to satisfy these pressing duties. There
seems to be nothing left to us to say than that only the purest and
strictest egoism can save us; but this must be a self-conscious
resolution, thoroughly felt and calmly expressed.
Let each one ask himself for what he is best fitted, and let him
cultivate this most ardently and wisely in himself and for himself;
let him consider himself successively as apprentice, as journeyman, as
older journeyman, and finally, but with the greatest of circumspection,
as master.
If he can, with discriminating modesty, increase his demands on the
external world only with the growth of his own capabilities, thus
insinuating himself into the world’s good graces by being useful, then
he will attain his purpose step by step, and if he succeeds in reaching
the highest level, will be able to influence men and things with ease.
Life, if he studies it closely, will teach him the opportunities and
the hindrances which present or intrude themselves upon him; but this
much the man of practical wisdom will always have before his eyes:--To
tire oneself out for the sake of the favor of to-day brings no profit
for to-morrow or after.
_Other Considerations_
Every nation has peculiarities by which it is distinguished from the
others, and it is by these distinguishing traits that nations are also
attracted to and repelled from one another. The external expressions
of these inner idiosyncrasies appear to the others in most cases
strikingly disagreeable, or, if endurable, merely amusing. This is
why, too, we always respect a nation less than it deserves. The inner
traits, on the other hand, are not known or recognized, by foreigners
or even by the nation itself; for the inner nature of a whole nation,
as well as the individual man, works all unconsciously. At the end we
wonder, we are astounded, at what appears.
These secrets I do not pretend to know, much less to have the
cleverness to express them if I did. Only this much will I say,--that,
so far as my insight goes, the characteristic intellectual and
spiritual activity of the French is now at its height again, and for
that reason will exercise soon again a great influence on the civilized
world. I would gladly say more, but it leads too far; one has to be so
detailed in order to be understood, and to make acceptable what one has
to say.
* * * * *
It was not merely permissible but highly admirable that a society of
Germans was formed for the special purpose of studying German poetry;
since these persons, as cultured men acquainted with the other fields
of German literature and politics both generally and in detail, were
well qualified to select and judge works of belles-lettres and use them
as a basis for intellectual, as well as pleasurable and stimulating,
conversation.