CROCE ON GOETHE.

Press, Volume LX, Issue 18141, 2 August 1924, Page 13

CROCE ON GOETHE.

SPECIAL article

WBITTK* *o* "THE PRESS.")

(By J- Joy . nt ' M ' A ' )

Mto Croce, the Italian pliilB< ?r a striking example of an TJ«ct thinker turned literary critic. f ?s caso such a transition is not so 10 „ as it might appear. As a mak ', , g ood v They are too much dis--IdtoVneralise' and lo ° k at W ° rkS 1 through the medium of abstract Croce in his best-known work, 'i'-T-'Estctica,'" applied himself to Jand build UP a theory of the tie or creative faculty, as n fun«'tho !,0 7 n r 1 : JLt .triM «»e »•"' tbot rk what we may call its concrete- *° Wa feel that the author, though down into the depths, is never t of touch with reality; he seems to Z watching the process of creation as living operation weaving its magic Lb before his eyes. And so it was nn w one step further for him to attack concrete works themselves, viewing them through no other medium thai, tie light of his own soul, and seeing what they really had to say to him. He has done this in recent years for Shakespeare, Dante, and Ariosto; and gtill more recently he has done it for Goethe. It is characteristic of his attitude that his most general charge against established Goethe criticism is overinterpretation. Most of us know that that is true of Shakespeare. But it is equally true of Goethe. There are as jnany "theories" of "Faust" or "■Wilhelm Meister" as there are of "Hamlet" Croce tells us that during the war he re-read the whole of Goethe's works—(a colossal undertaking!)—with a view to getting into fresh touch with the real German spirit through its most mighty exponent. A "foreword" to the present work Jiken3 Croce expounding Goethe to a brilliant light thrown on a great forest wherein noble and stately trees rise out of tangled brushwood and undergrowth. The stately trees illustrate the greatness and majesty of Goethe at his best; the tangled undergrowth the bad or indifferent work which so often mars his highest efforts. But those who have long recognised and felt the supremacy of Goethe, his far-sweeping the vast range of his powers, the flexibility and subtlety, of his art, may be consoled to know that Croce, after all deductions and qualifications, still leaves him a towering and impressive figure, standing out more clearly by the dispersal of some of the mists and fogs which had blurred its outlines. In an article like this one can only lay on a few touches, and that with a toy broad brush. The governing idea of >Qoethe's life-work was the attainment <of fullness of life through the harmonious development of all the powers of the Boul, artistic, ethical, and intellectual. Even the passions played their ' part, provided that a ma, remained above them, and did not become their glare.' To the art" of ; living," in' the j sense, all; his labours were made - gnhaervjent and contributory;, and he liberated his soul from transient or imperfect phases in his development by giving them concrete form in works of. ■ art He had a strong antipathy to theoretic or philosophic speculation. (This was where he diverged from Sehiller.) To him the living forces of • Nature and of the human soul were the osly things that mattered; and phil-•-OMfhic abstractions carried no meaning at all. ■; One effect of Goethe's rapid development is conspicuous in the number , of works which he left unfinished, having begtin.them at one stage, and then thrown them aside because he had outrlived , that' stage. Still more -disastrous was the .alternative tfjtiethod, viz., taking up uncompleted works long afterwards, and, vAfta much wrestling of spirit <£o recover the old vein, forcing himself to round off and finish the work in a new and. j different vein altogether.' Of . %, "warkß merely begtm 'and then' thrown infle, two conspicuous examples are! the dramatic fragments "Prometheus" and-VMahomet." In'the old mythology frometheus was the benefactor of mankind and the rebel against the authorityof Jtipiter, Ho stole fire from heaven, .in «tder to develop a race which would • rival the Olymoian deities. This .was theipe after Goethe's own heart; and ; Gn>ce makes the interesting point that the Jeasoa for his abandoning it was • irreconcilable dualism- in his : own _ aatttre? being, himself both' a rebel ragainst literary and social conventions, and at the same time a critic of rebelItya, the role prescribed by the wisdom tod harmony of his own higher 'self. • Mahomet" was begun under the im- , fake of a grandiose inspiration, which found expression in the magnificent -■fljntt-of the Prophet contemplating the ; *pread of his doctrine. But Goethe's changed, and the propagation M Mphammed&nism ceased to be an inspiring force for him. us glance at a few of the more known of Goethe's . works, and indicate, however baldly and Groco's ideas about them —ideas wnieh find such rich development in js own fuli and eloquent prose. The .ork.'with Which Goethe "awoke ono and found himself famous" "® ot^ow 8 of Werther," a prose Werther is the typical who broods on his own yearns for ho knows not what, , f °ree to wrestle with the ■ Sr®asaß of life, or resolution to persist form of activitv. He is •™nromedby a passion for one who was . ws«- betrothed and afterwards the 'ber*»if • sensible man. She sensible, and feels thutteif j- 1 impassion for her dis- ' < ™ a9e d, and nerve-shattered ' "da*V»« v- rt ' ler ' as puts it, of against the barriers aid nature, and falls back 'stieide. Th» "wrecked." The end is i*wk *he sensation caused by this v oat varan I m ? re y° u th is almost withiH el « literature. It was a ahtre our. „ a P^ leaV! il in German literkflown as "Sturm und S tv , Stress). The n 'this school hailed "Wcr'*e*enc ® °f passion and social rules, prejudices, " bc,the extent m anv carried it to snicid « iu , * 6 hero. The enthusiasm years after- j overrunning "Werther" as his view Ttfth r.-.? ' M| l, in his izitor- ' n denouement. WahW P° e'B real altitude? by the cxoand of real life » )'w>cjiSy short time prc- " where ' practice, had ' snicide of a young: ii al . hieh P r °mise. •' ' oe the 3iad there! romjmcea of

his life, the object of his affections being a "Lotte," both in temperament and situation closely analogous to Werther's Charlotte. Is he merely throwing his experiences, supplemented by the suicide, into the form of a romance. Croce answers that question with a decided negative. He thinks the biographical aspect has been much exaggerated; just as the faire-brained enthusiasts of the "Sturm und Drang' exaggerated the supposed justification of suicide and revolt. To Croce the book is an objective, pathological study of a diseased moral organism, presented in the form of a work of art. And for this purpose Goethe utilised actual material as a background, just as he was in the habit of drawing on his own experiences, internal and external, in others of his works. This is, no doubt, sound and true; but to many of us there is something more. For my own part, I cannot yield the old conviction that Goethe is here coming to grips with "Wertherism" in himself, in order to strangle it for ever. "Werther" leads by a natural transition to "Faust." Goethe's first draft of "Fatfst" and the composition of "Werther" were practically contemporaneous. Croce indicates points of analogy and points of contrast between the two men. Both yearn for something vague, infinite, and ineffable. Both are sensitive to the influences of nature. Both thrill to the sweet remembrances of childhood. Both are moved to selfdestruction ; one accomplishes it, the other is saved (with the poison to his lips) by the sound of the Easter chimes. But Faust in his study is altogether on a more heroic scale. While Werther is floundering helplessly in a morass of emotionalism and sentimentalism, and accomplishes nothing, Faust has attained all the knowledge of his time. And it is because he has attained all that knowledge can bring to him, and found it all empty, barren, and unsatisfying, that he cries out for a key wherewith to unlock the secrets of nature, that so he may plunge into the infinite, whether an infinite of deeper knowledge or of fulness and joy of life. Hence his summons to the Earth Spirit, his recourse to magical arts, and finally his recourse to the poison-phial. Croce says that in these early scenes Goethe is not an unconscious critic of "Faustism," but is sympathetic with it.

On the remainder of Part I. I will summarise Croce. Faust is trasformed not only into a young man, but into a commonplace and unscrupulous man of pleasure; the heroic mould is shattered. And Mephistopheles is transformed from a mocking cynic, who with scorching wit satirises dry scholastic learning, into a devil and a scheming pander. From the appearance of Gretchen on the scene, we are no longer in a Fausttragedy, but in a Gretchen-tragedv. Gretchen is purely instinctive and natural. She has no strong, guiding moral principles; from an instinct of passive obedience she submits to her mother and the priest, and does the household drudgery. Hence the temptation of the jewels, and the prospect of expansion and joy, find her without any power of resistance. It is only after the fall that her conscience awakes, and she realises that-her instinctive life is wrecked. ("Meine Bull' ist hin.") She kills her child. But through terror and sin she is purified and ennobled. "We are moved now, not by the material question of her probable) punishment, but by the profound moral, significance which she assumes. She is redeemed through repentance. Fayst understands nothing of this. He visits her in prison, and tries to.drag her away to safety with the aid of Mephistopheles. But he only thinks of saving her body; she, however, has.no interest in walking the earth with a polluted body, aiid only thinks of . the redemption of her soul. Hence Goethe, in the allegories of "Faiist, Part 11..'! (the "Faust" of his old age), transfers her to the : Choirs of the-Blest.

Goethe wrote the early sketch of "Faust" in 1773 and 1774, that is, in his twenty-fifth year. He ■ then put it aside, ana only resumed it many years later. In the to the whole of Part 1., as published in 1808, he speaks yearningly and pathetically of the melancholy effort of awaking again the old rush of inspiration, which in the earlier golden time had swept him irresistibly along. Now all is an effort, irksome and painful. Not only has the subject lost its old burning interest for him, but his moral attitude towards its personages and problems has undergone a profound change. In a chapter on what he'calls the "Systematising of Faust 1.," Croce deals very fully with the results of Goethe's attempt to round off an old theme under totally new influences. This exposition entails specialised treatment, on which it would bo impossible for me to enter here. With regard, to 3?art XX., that strange product of Goethe'B old age—an amorphous and chaotic mass of legend, symbol, allegory, and mediaeval history— Croce gives to readers a sensible piece of advice. He says in effect: Do not worry yourself trying to find the "guiding thread,", or the "unifying principle," or the "relation of the parts to the whole," all of which existed mostly in Goethe's brain; but open the book anywhere, read straight on, and you are sure to find plenty of beautiful poetry. For the benefit of any student who is really interested in the subject, I may add that he will find in Croce some interesting comment on the "Helena" episode. • ' There are three of Goethe's works, which are popular with readers, but of which Croce speaks rather disparagingly — a disparagement which is mainly a protest against the exaggerated estimation in which they are held. They are the two historical dramas, "Goetz von Berlichingen" and "Egmont," and the miniature Homeric epic or idyll, "Hermann und Doro'thea." Goetz ("&f the Iron Hand") was received with an outburst of passionate enthusiasm in Germany, as an affirmation of the undying spirit of German liberty against the tyranny of petty princes; and this prejudice still lives on in the "stupid nationalistic exaggerated praises of this extremely simple drama." Nothing could be fa'rther from Goethe's attitude. The one passion of which he was incapable was political passion, or enthusiasm for political liberty. His universality carried him far above these things. But he always loved to live in the past, and to identify himself in imagination with old-world personages and conditions. He was attracted by the fine rugged outlines of Goetz, a small feudatory of old Germany, and he presented him surrounded by characteristic figures of the time. It was the kind of world in which Walter Scott would have" delighted; and it is remarkable that one of Scott's eariest works was a translation of "Goetz." Goethe's pictures are very vivid. But, says Croce, there is no poetry about the play, no complicated action, nor any real catastrophe. It is worth while, however, to remember that "Goetz" was written when Goethe was twenty-two.

' In "Egmont" the moral characterization is more varied and complex. The hero is the .well-known leader of the revolt of the Netherlands against the domination of Spain in thtf'persons of Margaret of Parma and the Luke of Alva. But here again Goethe makes no pretence of identifying himself with the sacred cause of liberty. As in "Goetz," the historical situation is merely decorative background. • (How different is Schiller's treatment of the theme!) Consequently the personages are all in the right. Egmont himself is lovable,' magnanimous, and goodnatured; but he insists on treating the most difficult situations with a light heart. Croce thinks that the weakest

parts of the drama arc just those where one might expect Goethe to have been at his best, the lyrical portions, the mutual.love of Egmont and his little sweetheart Clarchen (a daughter of the people), and the love of Ferdinand, son of Alva, for Egmont. Clarchen and Ferdinand are slightly unnatural, "constructed," not born. "The scene which awakens the greatest doubts is the final scene, Egmont's dream in r>rison, Liberty appearing to him with the features of Clarchen." Of the well-thumbed i 1 Hermann und Dorothea" it seems to wring Croce's heart to speak in disparagement, so excellent are the bourgeois sentiments which it contains, so dear to the heart of good mothers for their good daughters. He admits all this. But here again he is irritated by the inflated pretensions of German critics. This little bourgeois idyll, with its artificial Homeric phraseology, is hailed as a revival of classical poetry in a German dress, a concrete illustration of the great critical work which Winckelmann was doing for Greek art, and quite in harmony with an age which was reconstructing Homer. If these critics had had an ounce of humour, they would have seen that the whole thing was a "jeu d'esprit" on Goethe's part; that he was simply amusing himself with an experiment, such as any classical scholar might try, in decking out a tiny modern romance in grandiloquent antique terminology. At some points the process trembles perilously near to burlesque, when Goethe seems to be thinking more of his "stylising" (as Croce calls it) than of the pathos and tenderness of his theme. (Perhaps one may add on one's own account that the best proof of his artistic genius is that the fatal boundary-line, which fenced off burlesque, i 3 never crossed.) One critical judgment of Croce's will probably startle many readers. He pronounces the most perfectly constructed and most skilfully balanced of. all Goethe's works to be the long prose narrative bearing the German name "Die Wahlverwandtschaften," generally Anglicified as "Elective Affinities." Artistically, it certainly has the advantage of being a rounded whole, broadly conceived and deliberately worked out, notwithstanding the introduction of one or two long episodes or digressions, which have little connexion with the main narrative. But many people regard the book with moral aversion. This attitude is not altogether jeasonable; for Goethe only follows his usual practice of presenting a moral problem in . a work of art, without propounding any solution. The basis of the situation is simply this: A childless married pair, who are still young, live in a large country-house. To them come on a long visit, from different parts of the country, an officer and a young girl. As the weeks' roll on, elective affinities begir their operation. An irresistible mutual attraction grows up between the respective pairs, the husband and the young girl, the wife and the officer. Will has no voice or part in the matter; and there is no vulgar impurity. It should be premised that the husband and wife had never deeply and passionately loved each other. Here I must leave the matter. One must agree with Croce that the tragedy is worked out with consummate insight and sustained power. There are many deep lessons scattered by the way. (I know of no English translation of this book.). . I had intended saying something on Croce's analysis of "Wilhelm Meister," that interminable romance, with its numerous new departures, develop ments, and transformations, illustrative of the shifting phases of Goethe's attitude towards life. Then there is the largo mass of "Lyrics," which many people read now, who do not read anything else of Goethe's. And there is that glorious drama, "Iphigenie," in imitation of the Greek, with its chaste, statuesque beauty, and its high-toned moral issues which are not Greek, but modern. And, once nuye, there is that other drama, "Tasso," in which the man of poetry and practical ineptitude 1 is contrasted with the practical man of action and affairs. On all these and other things Croce has much to say. But this article has reached its reasonable limits.