The Image Of The Artist In The Works Of Frank Wedekind

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Content This dissertation has been
microfilmed exactly as received 66 -5 4 8 3
HOVEL, Ralph Martin, 1913-
THE IMAGE OF THE ARTIST IN THE WORKS OF
FRANK WEDEKIND.
University of Southern California, Ph.D., 1966
Language and Literature, modern
University Microfilms, Inc., Ann Arbor, Michigan
Copyright by
Ralph Martin Hovel
1966
THE IMAGE OF THE ARTIST IN
THE WORKS OF FRANK WEDEKIND
by
Ralph Martin Hovel
A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(German)
January 1966
UNIVERSITY O F S O U T H E R N CALIFORNIA
TH E GRADUATE SCHOO L
UNIVERSITY PARK
LOS ANGELES, CA LIFO RN IA 9 0 0 0 7
This dissertation, written by
...........M ^ H . l M R T r a . H O T3 EL.........
under the direction of h£&.„.Dissertation Com
mittee, and approved by all its members, has
been presented to and accepted by the Graduate
School, in partial fulfillment of requirements
for the degree of
D O C T O R OF P H IL O S O P H Y
January 1966
D ate.................
To my wife, Joan,
for her constant
encouragement and
loyal support
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
j
j
; I wish to express my gratitude for the courtesies ex
tended to me in Switzerland and Germany during the summer
I
jof 1964. The interviews with Mr. Nold Haider, State Archi
vist, Kantonsbibliothek, Aarau, Switzerland, and Mr. Richard
r
|Lemp, Director of the Manuscript Collection, Stadtbiblio-
I
thek, Munich, were especially helpful. Both gentlemen per
mitted me to examine Wedekind's earliest manuscripts, note
books, letters, sketches, and outlines of his dramas— mater
ial which was later displayed at the Wedekind Exhibition at
the Theatermuseum in Munich. I am also indebted to them
for their permission to make photostatic copies of recent
periodical and newspaper articles on Wedekind.
I should also like to express my appreciation to Mrs.
Lion Feuchtwanger for informative conversations and for
allowing me to work on the Wedekind material contained in
the Lion Feuchtwanger Memorial Library in her home at Paci
fic Palisades, California.
TABLE OP CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Chapter
I. INTRODUCTION .....................
II. HISTORY OF CRITICISM OF WEDEKIND .
The Artist and His Personality
Wedekind's Concept of Morality
Wedekind's Literary Style
Recapitulation
III. WEDEKIND'S REJECTION OF NATURALISM
AND NEOROMANTICISM.............
IV. THE NEW MORALITY.................
The Concepts
Use in Dramas
Analysis of Morality Concepts
Examples of the New Morality in
the Characters
Conclusion
V. ART AND LIFE .....................
VI. THE AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL CONTENT OF THE
ARTIST IMAGE: WEDEKIND'S SELF
JUSTIFICATION
Page
iii
l|
i
5
3 9
6 5
1 1 4
150
iv
Chapter Page
VII. CONCLUSION ....................... 185
BIBLIOGRAPHY.......................................... 213
v
CHAPTER I j
|
INTRODUCTION j
j
j
The purpose of this dissertation is to investigate the j
image of the artist in the dramatic works of Prank Wedekind.
The role of the artist was a favorite theme in many I
i
j
German plays of the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth
1
centuries. The great number of plays about artists was
the result of the increasing consciousness of modern poets j
i
i
of their position in society as observers and artistic i
t
chroniclers of life. H. F. Garten maintained that in Ger- !
many drama might be said to take first place among literary j
forms. He attributed this widespread interest to several !
causes, among them a predilection for tragedy, i.e., for I
|
the sharp conflict of passions and ideas which is deeply j
ingrained in the.German character: j
I
I
!
i ^
xGoethe's Torquato Tasso and Grillparzer1s Sappho are |
among the more important and significant dramatic produc- j
tions in German literature.
. . . drama has served as the main vehicle for all
currents of thought, spiritual, social, and political.
Since the middle of the eighteenth century, that is,
since the rise of a national German literature, the
theatre has come to be regarded not so much as a place
of entertainment but— in the phrase of Schiller— a
"moral institution," a platform where the vital ideas
of the day as well as the timeless issues of human
destiny are presented.^
In addition to tragic drama, according to Garten, that
remarkable era of artistic and intellectual ferment, the
3
1890's, saw the emergence of the grotesque drama of man
ners, which existed concurrently with the naturalistic and
o i
^Modern German Drama (Fair Lawn, New Jersey, 1959), p. i
H. |
^The French word grotesque is related to the Italian
arottesco. which is defined as odd and extravagant. Origi
nally, it pertained to a style of painting and sculpture in
which forms of persons and animals were intermingled with j
foliage, flowers, fruits, etc., in a bizarre and fantastic !
design. It is characterized by distortions or striking in
congruities in appearance, shape, and manner. It is ludi
crously eccentric and often becomes ridiculous and absurd.
For a detailed discussion of Wedekind's use of the
grotesque, see the two unpublished Ph.D. dissertations:
Mally Untermann, "Das Groteske bei Wedekind, Thomas Mann, j
Heinrich Mann, Morgenstern und Wilhelm Busch" (University j
of Konigsberg, 1929), and Ernst Schweizer, "Das Groteske |
und das Drama Frank Wedekinds" (University of Tubingen, !
1932). In addition, many well-known literary historians j
described Wedekind's literary style as grotesque. Some of i
the more important are Oskar Walzel, Werner Mahrholz, Eric
Bentley, Karl Guthke, and Wolfgang Kayser. The term gro
tesque. as it applies to Wedekind, will be discussed in the
next section.
3
the neoromantic. He commented: ,
It was not carried by any movement nor was it founded
on any conscious aesthetic doctrine. It was, for the
time being, the creation of one solitary figure, Prank
Wedekind. Yet it proved, in the long run, to be of
greater consequence for the development of German drama
than any other type of play.^
When Wedekind was twenty-six years old, he had already
written four dramas, but had to wait fifteen years before
seeing any of his works presented on the stage. Few among
his contemporaries had to struggle so hard to gain a hear
ing. For years the public and the press did not appreciate
or respect him; they even doubted the honesty of his art.
H. Steinhauer, in commenting on Wedekind's failure to gain j
j
recognition during his lifetime, said that his philosophy j
j
of life offended the bourgeois world in its most sensitive j
spot, and his art was at least a decade ahead of its time, j
He added that the author was a moralist to the core of his
5
being, inspired with a missionary fervor to reform mankind. |
Since 1901, when the merit of Wedekind's plays began
to be recognized, and especially since the end of World War
i
j
i
^Garten, p. 87.
5pas deutsche Drama, 1890-1933: From Naturalism to
Expressionism (New York, 1938), I, 170.
I, a great deal of criticism about and controversy over the
themes of these dramas has appeared in print. By making use
of literary histories, periodical articles, and newspaper
reviews, I propose to summarize the history of the literary
criticism of Wedekind from 1901 to the present. The great
er part of this summary is derived from the material of the
i
last forty-four years, because it was during this period
that the author's popularity steadily increased. j
i
i
Following the remarks in this introductory chapter,
Chapter II of this study is concerned with three aspects of
I
i
the criticisms: the artist and his personality, his concept
of morality, and his literary style.
In considering the plays of Wedekind, this study has
been limited to those which definitely show the author's
i
personal views. Thus, the major portion of the investiga
tion will discuss the various aspects of these views. Chap
ter III treats the artist's rejection of naturalistic and
neoromantic literature? Chapter IV examines the new morali- !
I
ty; art and life are considered in Chapter V; and the auto-j
biographical content of the artist image, as well as the
theme of self-justification, are presented in Chapter VI.
The seventh and final chapter contains this writer's con
clusions .
CHAPTER II
HISTORY OF CRITICISM OF WEDEKIND
The survey of Wedekind criticism presented here in- I
eludes both German and Anglo-American literary historians, j
j
For purposes of organization, this criticism has been di
vided into three areas: the artist and his personality,
Wedekind's concept of morality, and his literary style.
I
t
The Artist and His Personality j
I
There is great diversity of opinion among critics of j
I
modern literature about Wedekind as an artist and a person
ality. There are many critical references to Wedekind be-
1 I
tween 1901 and 1922, but the information is superficial {
2 i
and therefore not included in this study.
-'-For an excellent summary of Wedekind criticism between
1901 and 1922, see Fritz Hagemann, "Wedekinds Erdqeist und
Die Buchse der Pandora." unpublished Ph.D. dissertation
(University of Erlangen, 1926), pp. 2-8. '
^Worth noting are the names of some of the earliest
literary historians who wrote about Wedekind. They include:
5
6
Two of Wedekind's earliest critics, Rudolph Lothar and
Raimund Pissin, proclaimed his talent as "promising."
Lothar classified him as a tragicomic writer "par excel-
3
lence," and Pissin defended him in general and gave spe
cial attention to the change in his style from youthful
4
pathos to mature skepticism. In 1904 Samuel Lublinski
acknowledged the author's talent, but in a later work re-
5
jected it.
Adolf Bartels was extremely prejudiced and accused
Wedekind of sexual perversion. He did not believe that
Wedekind would have a lasting influence and felt that no
Arthur Moeller-Bruck, Die moderne Literatur in Gruppen und
Einzeldarste1lunaen (Berlin and Leipzig, 1901); Richard
Eisner, "Fruhlings Erwachen," Moderne Dramatik in kritischerl
Beleuchtunq. Vol. I (Berlin-Charlottenburg, 1908); Richard |
Eisner, "Franziska," Moderne Dramatik . . .. Vol. XV (Ber- J
lin-Pankow, 1913); Kurt Herbst, Gedanken iiber Frank Wede
kinds Fruhlings Erwachen. Erdaeist und Die Biichse der Pan
dora: Eine literarische Plauderei (Leipzig, 1919); Julius
Kapp, Frank Wedekind, seine Gegenwart und seine Werke (Ber
lin, 1909); Paul Friedrich, Frank Wedekind. Wilhelm Born-
qraber (Berlin, 1913).
3Das deutsche Drama der Gegenwart (Miinchen and Leipzig,
1905), p. 333.
4-Frank Wedekind (Moderne Essays. No. 53, ed. H. Lands-
berg [Berlin, 1906]), pp. 51-53, et passim.
5pie Bilanz der Moderne (Berlin, 19 04), pp. 144-145,
and Der Ausgang der Moderne (Dresden, 1909), p. 22.
7
6
scholarly objective work on Wedekind could be produced.
Josef Hofmiller, Kurt Martens, and Hans Kempner shared
a favorable attitude, but Martens wrote only a few pages on
Wedekind and maintained that the artist took his moral de
mands very seriously. In 1921, eleven years later, he still
expressed the same criticism. Kempner's material lacked
significance and scholarship. The same criticism might be
made of the remarks of Richard M. Meyer, E. Vieweger, Carl
7
Hagemann, and Karl Storck. Both Kempner and Alfred Kerr
attempted to classify Wedekind's works as light and humor
ous . Kerr did not believe that Wedekind was a tragic writ-j
I
er, yet he appeared to understand him well. His judgment
of Wedekind was summed up in these lines, delivered at a !
{T
Handbuch zur Geschichte der deutschen Literatur. 2nd
ed. (Leipzig, 1909), p. 795, and Geschichte der deutschen j
Literatur. 11th and 12th ed. (Braunschweig and Hamburg,
1924), pp. 572, 629.
^Josef Hofmiller, "Zeitgenossen,1 1 Siiddeutsche Monats-
hefte (Miinchen, 1910); Kurt Martens, Literatur in Deutsch
land; Studien und Eindriicke (Berlin, 1910); Kurt Martens,
Die deutsche Literatur unserer Zeit (Miinchen, 1921); Hans
Kempner, Frank Wedekind als Mensch und Kiinstler. 2nd ed.
(Berlin-Parikow, 1911); Richard M. Meyer, Die deutsche LiterH
atur des 19. Jahrhunderts (Berlin, 1912); E. Vieweger, Frank
Wedekind und sein Werk (Chemnitz, 1919); Carl Hagemann, I
Oskar Wilde, sein Leben und sein Werk (Stuttgart, Berlin and
Leipzig, 1925); Karl Storck, Deutsche Literaturcreschichte
(Stuttgart, 1919).
banquet on June 18, 1912:
Und ein Zug an ihm soil betont werden. Die Schonheit
Frank Wedekinds ist nicht von fiihlloser Art, wo sie zu
lachen scheint. Hinter dem Lachen wohnt eine Ethos j
Trauer. Hinter neu skurrilen Linien wohnt ein Ethos. !
Hinter der Komik wohnt eine Sittlichkeit. Hinter allem
Ulk wohnt ein "tiefer Idealismus" . . . Es ist keine
g
Schande, davon zu sprechen.
The most important early books on Wedekind were written
9 i
by Paul Fechter, Bernhard Diebold, and Artur Kutscher. i
i
Fechter gave brief summaries of the individual plays, ac- j
companied by analyses and criticisms, and attempted to re-
!
late the personality and artistic purpose of the author to j
his creations. He gave a scholarly treatment of Wedekind |
!
and traced his development. This book makes most of the
|
preceding Wedekind literature superfluous; the author tried i
!
successfully to be objective without giving up his favorable
attitude toward Wedekind. Diebold's treatment, marked by
an economy of words, gave an excellent review of the writ- ;
i
j
er's entire output. His judgment was based on a comprehen- j
^Gesammelte Schriften. Vol. II: Die Welt im Drama !
(Berlin, 1917), 168.
®Paul Fechter, Frank Wedekind, der Mensch und das Werk j
(Jena, 1920); Bernhard Diebold, Anarchie im Drama (Frankfurt
am Main, 1925); Artur Kutscher, Frank Wedekind: Sein Leben
und seine Werke (Munchen, 1922-1931).
9
sive survey, intellectual keenness, and intuitive under
standing; behind his opinions one senses a personality.
His relatively short treatment said almost as much as Fech
ter 's book. However, Kutscher’s three volumes must be con
sidered the most important source, especially because he
had at his disposal the entire material in manuscript form.
In these volumes he provided us with a great amount of fac-
l
tual material, and, since he knew Wedekind personally, many j
[
of his analyses and evaluations must be regarded as defini-
The comments of the French author Rene Lauret should I
1
be included here, because his viewpoint was similar to that !
|
of many contemporary German critics. He stated that Wede- I
i
kind expressed himself principally through paradox, and j
that he tended to disguise a sensitive and introverted i
-^Although some works written in the 1920's contributed
little to the criticism of Wedekind, their titles should
perhaps be listed: Waldemar Oehlke, Die deutsche Literatur
seit Goethes Tod und ihre Grundlaaen (Halle a. S., 1921);
Friedrich von der Leyen, Deutsche Dichtuncr in neuer Zeit
(Jena, 1922); Hanns M. Elster, "Eine Einfuhrung," in Schnei
ders Buhnenfiihrer: Frank Wedekind und seine besten Biihnen- j
werke (Berlin and Leipzig, 1922); Ludwig Marcuse, Die Welt
der Tracrodie (Berlin, Leipzig, Wien and Bern, 1923); F. Vogt
and M. Koch, Die Geschichte der deutschen Literatur. 4th ed.
(Leipzig, 1924), III; Max Martersteig, Das deutsche Theater
im 19. Jahrhundert (Leipzig, 1924).
10
nature beneath an aggressive exterior. Lauret considered
Wedekind a comedian, since his taste for comedy, attitudes,
and disguise was, in fact, profound. Lauret praised him
I
for the courage he displayed as a nonconformist writer in
the Germany of Wilhelm II, and for saying what he thought.
... Wedekind proclamant les droits de la nature, la !
liberte de la chair, fletrissant les pedants, les peda- |
gogues et les parents vieux style, devenait un symbole,
un drapeau. Pour la nouvelle ecole dramatique, il deve
nait un precurseur, un maitre.H j
Hence he gave him credit for being both a forerunner and a
master of the new school of expressionism.
j
English and American essayists have made many attempts I
to analyze Wedekind's elusive genius. They have called himj
I
a cynic, satirist, antimoralist, and sex fanatic. One ad- j
|
mirer criticized his contempt for humanity, while another
|
critic called him a Mephistopheles, a charlatan, a poseur, |
i
and a decadent. In 1908 the prevailing opinion was still
that each of Wedekind's works was merely a "delectable ex
hibition" by a curious clown. Edward J. Wheeler remarked
ironically: I
^Le Theatre allemand d'Auiourd.'.hui. 2nd ed. (Paris,
1934), p. 57.
11
It is true that he is not one of the gentle voiced
German lyrists who, through the school text-book,
steal into the consciousness and the heart of the
people. His kinship is rather with Grabbe and Heine,
both of whom, in their time, have been accused of
being apostates from morality and from b e a u t y . 12
Wheeler's criticism of the author as an artist and j
personality was similar to that of Ashley Dukes, who claimed
!
that Wedekind had gained the reputation of having slain j
morality in the German theatre and that his plays were the I
"last words" in unconventionality and daring. Where other
dramatists had treated the woman with a past with reserve,
for fear of being considered too bold, Dukes said that Wede-
J
i
kind relentlessly dragged pathology, sex perversion, and !
i
i
insanity onto the stage. Wedekind thrived upon prohibi
tions, prosecutions, newspaper publicity, and notoriety in
i
general; he openly proclaimed his contempt for the public; i
and no critical attacks could penetrate his monstrous ego
ism. Dukes described him as a self-styled giant, a fanatic,
never a charlatan, more than an eccentric, but something
F
|
less than a creative genius. He felt that an author who j
j
could not readily be classified by his critics must remain I
•^"Wedekind, the Storm Center of Dramatic Germany,"
Current Literature. XLV (August 1908), 206.
12
an enigma. Wedekind belonged to no school, and until 1911
13
he had no followers.
Fritz Rumler called attention to disparaging remarks
i
made by several critics, pertaining mostly to Wedekind's
lack of humor:
Worringer nannte ihn einen Gorilla, der sich in die
Zivilisation verirrt habe. Gundolf, der George-Adept, j
berichtet, dass man sich den "Unzuchtpropheten" nicht
mit dem "gemessenen Herrn und seinen eckigen Bewegungen"
zusammenreimen konnte. Julius Hart, eine der Berliner
Kritikergrossen, beschreibt ihn als 1 1 den Amoklaufer, den
Flagellanten, den Menschen des grenzenlos humorlosen
Humors, aus ganz dickem, schwerem, tragem Blut, aus
finstersten Melancholien . . ."14
In discussing Wedekind's contributions to dramatic art,
Anita Block maintained that he lacked a capacity for con- j
j
sistently well-ordered thinking and writing. In her analy
sis, Wedekind's was an unstable personality, and his hatred:
i
of sexual hypocrisy expressed itself through the undiscip- j
|
lined and often violent reactions of his characters in a
series of savage, confused plays. She felt that The Awaken
ing of Spring was masterly and moving and that Earth-Snirit
was frank but repugnant. In her opinion, however, his other
i
i
l3Modern Dramatists (London, 1911), pp. 96-98.
14»Burger und Burgerschreck," Munchner Abendzeitung.
July 23, 1964, p. 8.
13
plays would be little understood by the reader or theatre
goer of today who, fed on Freudian revelations, can scarce
ly believe that there was ever anything secret about sex or
that its manifestations, normal or even abnormal, should
lead to the violence of feelings expressed by Wedekind. In
general, she praised Wedekind and said that his Fruhlings
Erwachen would arouse intense admiration for this man who
had the courage to write with such frankness on a subject
15
then so completely taboo.
Eventually a part of the German public did recognize
Wedekind's originality and creative power, and came to love
him for his unyielding spirit and passionate frankness.
This was indicated in Wilhelm Herzog's appraisal of the
author both as an artist and as a man:
Er hat ais Riinstler der Menge nie die geringste Kon-
zession gemacht. Er wurde verlacht, gelastert und ver-
spottet; als Clown verschrien, bestenfalls als Witzbold
gewertet oder als Bankelsanger, weil er die Laute zu
schlagen versteht. Er aber blieb— ein ganz seltener
Fall in unserer merkantilen und kompromiss-suchtigen
Zeit— : er selbst’ . . . . Es gilt, einen Kiinstler zu
ehren, der nie irgendeiner Gruppe angehorte, der vielmehr
als gefahrlich Isolierter seinen an Bitternissen reichen
15
"Modern Foundations in Contemporary Drama," The
Changing World in Plavs and Theatre (Boston, 1939), pp. 39-
40.
14
16
Weg gxng.
In his "Auseinandersetzung mit Wedekind," Paul Rilla
discussed the variety of opinions concerning Wedekind on
the occasion of the performance of Der Marquis von Keith
j
(1898-1900)— the first performance in fourteen years. He j
i
j
r
called attention to the conflicting opinions concerning j
Wedekind as a qualified evaluator of society. For example,
Rilla quoted one unidentified critic as saying, "the asser
tion that Wedekind has been a social critic should be ener
getically contradicted— even if only out of respect for |
17
Heinrich Mann and Carl Sternheim." But a remark made by
Heinrich Mann and printed in the theater program praised I
j
the author as the most profound and most prophetic social |
critic of the turn of the century. In another discussion J
I
it was also pointed out that Wedekind expressed an even !
sharper and more cynical social criticism than Sternheim. j
i
I
Rilla concluded that Wedekind's influence on modern drama j
and theatre remains a simple, historically well-established
i
-^Menschen, denen ich becreanete (Bern and Munchen,
1959), p. 214.
^"Auseinandersetzung mit Wedekind," Literaturf Kritik
und Polemik (Berlin, 1952), p. 81.
15
fact (p. 82), and summarized the author's role thus:
Wie wir Wedekind heute sehen, ist er nicht nur der
grosste Sprachgestalter und dramatische Visionar der
spatbiirger lichen Auflosung, sondern auch ihr Produkt
und tragisches Opfer. Er war zur Rolle des Aussen-
seiters verdammt. Seine Aussenseiterwerke, diese son-
derbaren und kiihnen dramatischen Gebilde der Lebensver-
zerrung, sind im Ursprung Uberwindungen eben jener zer-
storerischen Zeitkrafte, denen sie in der Konsequenz
unterworfen bleiben. Wedekinds spatere Entwicklung
fand keinen anderen Ausweg mehr als den in die Isolier-
ung des axitobiogr aphis chen Bekenners . (pp. 88-89)
Wedekind's Concept of Morality
Wedekind has been linked with the German philosophers j
Schopenhauer and Nietzsche. Some evidence of this was
|
shown in the fact that, despite his apparent attitude of j
|
being a great woman-hater during all of his bitter struggle I
i
against the bourgeoisie, he was obsessed by his belief in j
i
the basic necessity of sex. In his artistic pleas for sex- j
i
i
ual enlightenment, for free love, and for equal rights for j
18 *
unmarried mothers, he repeated sexual themes ad absurdum.
These themes were not original with Wedekind, since
critical exposure of middle-class, morality had already begun
i
with the social plays of Ibsen. What distinguished Wedekind
•^Werner P. Friederich, et al.. An Qutline-Historv of
German Literature (New York, 1958), p. 244.
16
from Ibsen, however, was his manner and style. While Ibsen
expressed his criticism in an objective manner, that is, he
shaped his characters with impartial care and presented
even the objects of his criticism as human beings in their
own right, Wedekind portrayed the world, deliberately, as
out of focus; his characters were either over- or under
sized. The targets of his scorn were mere caricatures,
soulless automata in a distorted world. H. F. Garten de
scribed Wedekind's manner as follows:
The vantage point from which Wedekind attacked middle-
class morality was not a new social class (the working !
class never came within his range) but a cosmopolitan j
set of artists, crooks, adventurers, libertines, in short,]
the outcasts of society who reject its accepted standards j
and conventions. These are the apostles of his funda- !
mental creed— the gospel of sexual freedom and physical j
vitality.-*^ j
It is certain that Wedekind's moral philosophy was
partially the result of his odd personality. The author's
eccentricity was commented on by many early critics, as for
j
example, Percival Pollard's reference to him as a strange, j
20
uncanny, isolated, abnormal figure. Frank Chandler had a
19
Modern German Drama, p . 89.
^Masks and Minstrels of New Germany (Boston, 1911),
pp. 231-232.
17
similar evaluation, and went on to say that WedeTcind felt
that the world was bestial and became a principal exponent
of eroticism. Chandler further claimed that Wedekind had
no conception of love as sentiment: j
i
j
|
To Wedekind, all is so futile and fearful that he can
well afford to be fearless. Existence, for him, is
brutal and bad, and that which affords joy inflicts
pain in larger measure. Men and women are pitiful
creatures, the slaves of instinct, and the business of
art is to show them convulsed by desire and battling *
one with another.^ j
I
]
Chandler described Wedekind as so strange, so brutally
frank, and so individualistic that no one had ventured to j
j
follow his lead (p. 307). In his second book, written j
I
seven years later, Chandler again expressed this opinion. !
i
He referred to Wedekind as half-genius, half-charlatan, and
called him, along with Hasenclever, one of the "bad boys" j
I
of the German theatre. The self-appointed mission of these |
j
boys appeared to Chandler to be to cut capers in art, to j
treat accepted standards with contempt, and to shatter j
I
idols. Instead of dramatizing life, they distorted and
stylized it, the first preparing the way for expressionism
21&spects of Modern Drama (New York, 1924), p. 294.
18
and the second exemplifying it.
Eric Bentley related Wedekind to Ibsen and Strindberg
and pointed out that whereas Ibsen and Strindberg presented
the decline of the bourgeoisie and its morality, Wedekind
invented a world without bourgeois morality. Although
Wedekind used a satirist's draughtsmanship, his viewpoint
was not reason, nor common sense, but religion. But, like
i
i
Baudelaire, he was religious in a negative way and his !
vision was focused on evil. Bentley considered the night
marish atmosphere of Wedekind's works unreal and his tech-
23 '
nique surrealistic. He said: i
I
I
It is, of course, not by his ideas that Wedekind
lives, but by his discovery of amazing forms to express |
the ideas. His ideas recur like maddening obsessions: i
genius is slighted, nakedness is noble, society is a I
circus, man is a beast— these notions are certainly no i
more than an "ideological superstructure." What is
perpetually astonishing in Wedekind is his imagination j
op i
^ - ^ - Modern Continental Playwrights (New York and London, i
1931), p. 366. |
^ The Playwright as Thinker: A Study of Drama in Mod
ern Times (New York, 1946), pp. 64-65. This writer's con
cluding remarks concerning critical material available are
somewhat prejudiced, as he claims that in English there is j
no literature about Wedekind worth considering. He mentions
Diebold as his acutest critic in German, but not his most
friendly critic. Artur Kutscher's three volumes, Frank
Wedekind, sein Leben und seine Werke. are full of good in
formation.
19
and his dialectic, (p. 319)
Jethro Bithell maintained that Wedekind's claim to
being a moralist, which has been supported by many serious
[
German analysts, could be explained by the fact that after
his death a floodtide of popularity acclaimed him a critic
of pre-War society. His influence on literature, however,
24
both xn form and substance, cannot be minimized. Bithell
shared Chandler's opinion that Wedekind introduced a "new
25
eroticism" into Ixterature, but he found it impossible to
determine Wedekind's true concept of life:
Whether Wedekind's presentation of reality by dis
tortion merely reflects his serio-comic impression that j
life is a Hell of a joke (ein hollischer Soass)— with j
the joke delightful because it is Hell— , or whether, j
if one penetrates the surface, a more poignant solution j
is to be found in his personal tragedy of frustration, j
is problematic. (p. 56) j
j
Garten was another strong supporter of Wedekind and j
stated that his importance to the development of German j
i
drama could not be overrated. Garten likened Wedekind's j
^Modern German Literature. 1880-195 0. 3rd ed. rev.
(London, 1959), pp. 54-55.
^contrary to Chandler's and Bithell's opinion, other
critics maintained that Wedekind disliked eroticism, con
sidered it indecent, and called it an evil of society.
20
plays to a fresh breeze that seemed to blow into the stuffy
atmosphere of the late nineteenth century. "Though much of
his writing was actuated by an impish desire to shock and
26
to startle, he was at heart a zealous moralist."
Recent critical commentaries on Wedekind presented
judgments contrary to those of Garten and Bithell. In an
article written on the hundredth birthday anniversary of
Wedekind, Hermann Uhde-Bernays felt that Wedekind considered
"altruistic ideals" to be bourgeois weaknesses:
Nichts war ihm heilig. Er log mit Eifer und Begeister-
ung, scheute sich nicht, sich selbst zu verulken, und
hatte in dem Schauspiel "Hidalla" sein Abbild auf die
Buhne gestellt, den Philosophen und Menschheitsbegliick-
er, der von der Menge ausgelacht wird und sich erhangt,
weil ihn ein Zirkusdirektor als duramen August engagieren j
will. Freundschaft, Liebe, Treue, Dankbarkeit, Ehre, j
Moral waren fur seine literarischen Anstandsbegriffe
• O * 7 i
bourgeoxse Torheiten/
i
i
Karl Ude agreed with Uhde-Bernays: j
Er entdeckte, als echter Moralist Oder Antimoralist, was I
dasselbe ist, Wahrheiten, aber nicht die Wahrheit, in der
er hatte ruhen konnen. Denn Beruhen und Ruhe waren ihm,
dem extrem dynamischen Menschen, fremd.28
26Garten, p. 94.
2^"Am Literatenstammtisch,1 1 Der kleine Bund. No. 312
(July 24, 1964), 6.
28" prank Wedekind und Miinchen," Miinchner Stadtanzeiaer.
No. 30 (July 24, 1964), 3.
Thus, it is evident from these conflicting evaluations
that Wedekind's concept of morality is difficult to define, i
i
and the task is not made easier, as we have seen, by a re
view of even the most important literary criticism. He has
been variously described as a moralist, an immoralist, and t
an amoralist, and one must weigh the appraisals carefully j
to determine which are superficial and inadequate and which |
are the result of careful objective study. Many of these i
opinions indicate a failure to understand Wedekind, either |
i
!
as an artist or as a moralist. I
At the time when Wedekind was writing, critical expo- j
sure of middle-class morality had already begun through the I
social plays of Ibsen and Shaw, and it is interesting to
I
compare their manner and style of criticism with those of !
Wedekind. Ibsen criticized characters and social types, j
i
but acknowledged their frailties as human beings. In con- j
trast to Ibsen, Shaw's treatment seemed unfriendly, but he j
|
sincerely wished to reform the men and women in his audien- j
ces, and to make them more aware and more informed. Wede- j
kind, on the other hand, wanted his sermons to hurt his
audiences, whether they ultimately benefited from them or
not. He wished revenge for his unhappiness which he blamed
on his environment and on the individuals who constituted
22
it. In contrast to Ibsen, Wedekind treated his characters
as marionettes— soulless and unintelligent— who moved about
blindly in an evil world. His false "moralists" became
caricatures; men and women were contemptible creatures whose
main desire was to take advantage of each other.
Love, in Wedekind's opinion, was not spiritual but
j
could be realized only in sexual freedom and physical vi- !
|
tality. Sex thus became to Wedekind the most powerful
motivator of man's activities. It was this hatred of re
straint together with his personal revolt against social
conventions, which were emphasized so strenuously, which
made him less than convincing as a "moralizer." The audi-
j
I
ences of his day, as might be expected, did not feel ele- I
i
l
vated morally or spiritually when they left the theater but,j
on the contrary, were enraged and insulted. !
|
Generally speaking, a moralist may be defined as one
who teaches or preaches conformity to the rules of right
conduct. He not only practices ethical virtue but, through
his own irreproachable conduct, attempts to improve the j
morals of others. This definition cannot be applied to j
i
Wedekind, but Diebold explained Wedekind's morality as he
saw it:
23
Moral . . . er sah in ihr nur Einengung der mensch-
lichen Freiheit— so wie er sie verstand. Sie war ihm
die Feigheit vor dem Leben. Denn das nackte Leben ist i
wild und bose fur den Verachter des Burgersteigs.^9
With Diebold's moral concept in mind, it is easy to under-
I
stand why Wedekind has been accused of eroticism, since this
concept is not compatible with the socially accepted stand-j
i
i
ard. Yet it seems unfair to consider Wedekind an immoral- |
ist; it would perhaps be more accurate to call him a well-
meaning but unsuccessful moralizer whose basic philosophy
was not attuned to that of his contemporaries.
Wedekind's Literary Style
j
As might be expected, the critics have been as divided i
j
on the merits of Wedekind's style as they were on the eval- j
I
i
uation of his personality and morality. Many of his con- j
temporaries maintained that Wedekind's was a "variete" I
i
i
j
style, meaning that it was a "music hall" style. Oskar |
i
j
Walzel claimed that one should perform him with mario- j
n e t t e s . ^ j
The disagreement as to the stylistic worth of Fruhlinasl
I
i
^Anarchie jm Drama, pp. 47-48. j
30Pie deutsche Literatur von Goethes Tod bis zur Gecen-
wart. 5th ed. (Berlin, 1929), pp. 138-139.
24
Erwachen (1891) and Erdaeist (1893) was sharply marked. In
Julius Bab's opinion, these early plays had lasting value
31
and those that appeared later were decadent. Adolf Bar
tels, however, maintained that these dramas represented the
32
height of German decadence.
In Chandler's opinion, Fruhlinas Erwachen. Erdqeist. j
■ i
and Die Biichse der Pandora (19 01) were characterized by
sensational naturalism brightened by an imagination as vivid
i
as that of Strindberg. But he also felt that these plays
were brutal, formless, and polyglot, intermingling with
their German bad French and worse English as the scenes
33
shift from land to land. !
i
Both Ashley Dukes and J. W. Marriott wrote similar !
i
j
criticisms of these three dramas. Dukes maintained that j
i
i
Friihlinqs Erwachen was not a play for the stage but that |
i
i
the broken scenes represented a dramatic epic; nor did he j
j
believe that the play could be described or analyzed. Yet :
he did credit the play with having power and beauty, and
I
pointed out that the somber, introspective children in the J
I
|
3-*-Pie Chronik des deutschen Dramas (Berlin, 1922), I,
98.
• ^Geschichte der deutschen Literatur. p. 572.
^ Modern Continental Playwrights, pp. 368-369._________
25
cast were manifestly the embryo heroes and heroines of
34
Wedekind's later dramas.
Marriott said that when Wedekind died at the end of i
|
the War he was recognized as a powerful but eccentric force i
!
in the new drama. He referred to Fruhlinqs Erwachen as a i
I
|
"ghastly story," but felt that its influence on such divers^
j
plays as Young Woodley. Madchen in Uniform, and Finished j
i
Abroad was very strong, although the last named was actually
more similar to Wedekind's Die -iunae Welt. Like Chandler,
he said that Erdcreist and Die Biichse der Pandora had "hor-
i
I
I
rible themes," and that the plays were weird mixtures of j
sensational naturalism and chaotic fancy which was Strind- !
I
35
bergian. j
!
R. F. Arnold felt that Wedekind was a thoroughgoing |
representative of naturalism and enumerated as his followers
34The Youngest Drama (London, 1923), pp. 51-52
35jy[odern Drama (London and New York, 1934), pp. 221-
222. Kenneth MacGowan and Robert Jones rank together two
European playwrights of distinction, Chekhov and Wedekind,
stating that they show a similar dissatisfaction with pure
realism. While they may be compared with Ibsen and Strind
berg, their work is never wholly realistic in the narrowest
sense. Each has a peculiar quality and method throughout.
See Continental Stagecraft (New York, 1922), p. 28.
26
Paul Ernst, Dietrich Eckardt, Erich Miihsam, and Adolph
3 6
Paul. Albert Soergel tried to favor the author, noticed
his relationship to the Sturm und Drang, especially to Lenz,
and called his goals romantic utopias. He also pointed to
the contradictions in his works and the difficulty of dis-
37
covering the true Wedekind from his glaring pictures.
According to Kerr, the following writers were stylistically
j
i
related to Wedekind: Ferdinand Raimund, Jean Paul, Clemens
Brentano, Achim von Arnim, Heinrich Heine, Oscar Wilde, and
38
Paul Verlaine. Friedrich Kummer called attention to the
cleft between the young idealistic Wedekind and the mature i
!
I
cynical Wedekind and claimed that he reminded one of Bernard
Shaw and Oscar Wilde; i.e., he was a Sorecher as they were, !
!
39 !
and not a Gestalter. j
In direct contrast to these opinions, Hans Naumann
maintained that Wedekind was not influenced by others. In
j
36Pas moderne Drama {Strassburg, 1908), p. 233.
S^Dichtung und Dichter der Zeit. 3rd ed. (Leipzig, j
1916), p. 828. j
I
38Kerr, II, 168. j
I
3^Peutsche Literaturaeschichte des 19. und 20. Jahr- I
hunderts. 17th-20th eds. Vol. II: Von Hebbel bis zu den
Friihexpressionisten (Dresden, 1924), 499.
27
general, he criticized him favorably and claimed that the
anima Candida (cf. Die Zensur. 1907) in Wedekind must be
40
acknowledged. Fritz Strich's statement that Kleist was
Wedekind's only ancestor must be considered inaccurate, as
it disagrees so sharply with the opinions of the majority
of critics.
In 1931 Werner Mahrholz's important and complimentary
work appeared. Mahrholz called attention to Wedekind's j
relationship to Bohemianism, and referred to him as one of
those "not entirely rare" phenomena in Germany who, standing
between two factions, represented in themselves the efforts
of an epoch. He described his character as thoroughly ro
mantic, his style as impressionistic, and claimed that his |
4Qpie deutsche Dichtuncr der Gecrenwart: Vom Naturalis-
mus bis zum Expressionismus. 3rd ed. (Stuttgart, 1927), p.
99, et passim. j
I
41"vorwort," in Frank Wedekind, Gesammelte Briefe I
(Miinchen, 1924), I, 5-6, j
For additional commentaries and criticism on Wede- |
kind, see Das Wedekindbuch. ed. Joachim Friedenthal, 2nd ed.
(Munchen and Leipzig, 1914) . This contains an essay by
Franz Blei (pp. 128-150) which is also printed in tiber Wede-'
kind, Sternheim und das Theater (Leipzig, 1916). This work
appeared in the year 1914 on the writer's fiftieth birthday.
In addition to the editor's introduction, which is not al
ways conclusive, it contains contributions and opinions of
renowned contemporaries; the statements of Franz Blei are
the most valuable.
28
stylistic method might be characterized by an exaggerated
tragic element.
Er beginnt heute schon eine gewisse Klassizitat zu
gewinnen und zugleich zu altern und zu welken. Er
ist, in einem sehr bestimmten Sinne, fast mehr eine j
Angelegenheit der Literatur als der Dichtung, aber j
eben deshalb wichtig im Zuge der literarischen Ent-
wicklung.^2
i
Thus he placed the author's importance in the area of lit- !
j
erary development rather than in poetry per se. pointing J
i
out that a large part of his life's work was rooted in the i
peculiar cultural atmosphere of Bohemianism.
Klaus Herrmann maintained that Wedekind was the strong-j
i
est forerunner of expressionism and that no author except
i
Strindberg had ever equaled Wedekind in sharp character de- i
i
43 i
Imeation and in use of precise dialogue.
In a recent article, Rudolf Frank explained why Wede
kind excelled in this respect: j
i
I
Architektur, Sprache und Charaktere seiner Stucke wach- j
sen aus dem Stoff, der Idee, dem Thema, und so heftig j
auch diese der Konvention widersprachen— dem Theater j
^"Ein Zwischenspiel: Wedekind und die Boheme," Deut- j
sche Literatur der Geaenwart (Berlin, 1931), p. 105.
^3"Ist Wedekind immer noch verboten?" Aufbau. Ill, No.
2 (1947), 186-187.
29
und seinem Wesen widerstrebten sie nie. Man spurt es
beim Lesen: Der Autor hat dichtend, schauspielend,
singend und niederschreibend jede Gestalt ausprobiert;
sein heisses Blut floss in alle.^
Hence he implied that Wedekind understood the demands of
the stage.
In similar recent criticism, both Marsyas and Kurt
Liebmann ranked Wedekind with Lenz, Grabbe, Buchner, and
45 i
Heine? and Marsyas considered Wedekind, Sternheim, and j
l
i
Hauptmann the three greatest German dramatists of the }
twenti eth century.^
!
Lion Feuchtwanger criticized Wedekind favorably, say- j
i
I
m g that his literary and historical significance was recog-f
i
i
nized early and that his manner of presenting the erotic as j
i
"ruthless, great, naked, earnest and ridiculous" had found j
j
many imitators everywhere in the world. He stated that j
t
j
Wedekind's form and style especially had influenced such j
German authors as Heinrich Mann, Carl Sternheim, Georg j
^"Frank Wedekind heute," Der kleine Bund. No. 312
(July 24, 1964), 5.
4^Kurt Liebmann, "Frank Wedekind— Dichter und Moral
ist," Borsenblatt fiir den Deutschen Buchhandel. No. 30
(July 1954), 658.
46"Wedekind, Sternheim und die Unken," Aufbau. Ill,
No. 7 (1947), 67.
30
Kaiser, and Bertolt Brecht, and that his diction and his
47
syncopated, aphoristic style anticipated expressionism.
Wolfgang Kraus praised Wedekind and contended that the
author's artistic form, his use of the bizarre, and his
marionette style were important to the development of the
Theater of the Absurd: 1
|
Ihrer Form nach sind Wedekinds Satiren jedenfalls inter- |
essant geblieben, wenn auch vor allem fur das Auge des I
Fachmanns: denn das Bizarre, Groteske, Kunstliche, ihr j
beabsichtigter kalter Marionettenstil stehen in manchen
Szenen und Augenblicken in sehr deutlicher Vorlaufer-
schaft zum "Theater des Absurden." . . , Das Vorstadium
des Verfremdens, freilich in satirischer Spielart, war
von Wedekind langst geschaffen.^8 !
j
j
On the other hand, there are the unfavorable remarks
made by two other literary historians, Wilhelm Emrich and !
Karl Guthke. It is worthwhile to give their comments in
detail because they refer to several aspects of Wedekind's |
talent. In his discussion of the Lulu-tragedy, Erdgeist
and Die Buchse der Pandora. Emrich suggested that in Lulu j
i
j
not only was the "crisis" of modern tragedy— the tragedy of I
^"Preface," in Frank Wedekind, Five Tragedies of Sex. !
trans. Frances Fawcett and Stephen Spender (New York, 1952)j
pp. 21-22. |
|
48"Satire, die ihr Ziel erreichte," Tages-Anzeiger.
July 24, 1964, p. 15.
31
tragedy— mirrored, but also its new form. Lulu's morality—
and also Wedekind's— was not definable. As to method and
i
!
technique, he said Wedekind repeatedly confused critics i
i
i
through his use of paradox and absurd derision of all dra-
1
matic positions and events. At the same time he shocked '
j
them with his language, an apparently unpoetic, unnatural j
i
|
■Allerweltsdeutsch. "everybody's German," which was "pathet- |
ically, passionately, and soulfully declaimed in the lofty |
style of classic tragedy." This language was completely !
i
I
contrary to the style of naturalism. Emrich felt, too, I
that the shape and form of Wedekind's works were as far i
I
i
removed from classic tragedy as from modern naturalistic,
new romantic, expressionistic, or surrealistic drama. "Und j
i
doch," he concluded, "enthalten sie Elemente aus alien Be- {
49
reichen." j
!
Guthke, in his criticism of Wedekind's dramatic style, j
technique, and use of the grotesque, questioned the author' s j
concepts of tragedy and comedy and commented on his mixture
of styles. Could Wedekind's dramas be called tragicomedies,
inasmuch as they prepared a way for the tragic element to ;
!
i
!
Wedekind: Die Lulu-Tragodie," Das deutsche Drama, j
ed. Benno von Wiese, 2nd ed. (Diisseldorf, 1960), II, 207. j
32
change, surprisingly, into the comic element, as indicated
50
in the Reallexikon? Or did he aspire rather to "complete
fusion," dreaming of a drama "in which the tragic element
should produce the highest comic element, and the comic j
element the highest tragic element"? Guthke believed that
the latter was more evident. But how did this fusion ap-
|
pear? j
Ist es nicht stellenweise grotesk, komisch-grausig, j
spielerisch ins Unwirkliche stilisiert? Dass man langst
erkannt hat, dass Wedekind auf der Linie Romantik,
Buchner, Grabbe liegt, erschwert diese Frage mehr, als
dass sie sie vereinfacht. Denn in seinen merkwurdigen i
Dramen gehen, so mussen wir entgegen alien Versuchen,
sie asthetisch auf einen Nenner zu bringen, betonen, so
vielerlei Stilrichtungen und asthetische Stimmungsquali-
taten durcheinander, dass der von Dehnow so angefeindete j
Sachverhalt, Wedekind sei abgestempelt als "krauser, !
abstruser, grotesker, tragikomischer Karikaturist, barock,]
bizarr, verzerrt und exzentrisch" . . . gar nicht so |
c l !
unzutreffend ist . . . j
His analysis made it apparent to Guthke that some (but not |
all) of Wedekind's dramas were tragicomedies, i.e., plays
in which caricature, eccentricity, oddity, and the grotesque
^Paul Merker and Wolfgang Stammler, Reallexikon der
deutschen Literaturueschichte. ed. Werner Kohlschmidt and
Wolfgang Mohr, 2nd ed. (Berlin, 1958), I, 309.
^-*-Karl Guthke, Geschichte und Poetik der deutschen
Tracrikomodie (Gottingen, 1961), pp. 328-329.
33
were subordinated, functionally, to the tragicomic element.
"... dieses Tragikomische seinerseits,1 1 Guthke concluded,
"verharrt nicht im Punktuellen, sondern beherrscht das !
* \
I
ganze Stuck als Gestaltungskategorie" (p. 329). j
|
Mally Untermann explained the type of grotesqueness !
j
used by Wedekind in some of his plays toward the end of the '
nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries, by j
i
saying that he used exaggerated satire as a weapon to attack
j
middle-class ideals. His targets were marriage and the j
family, morality and religion, a cultural life, and the
52
State. In his struggle against the bourgeoisie, Wedekind
i
concentrated on three areas, which Untermann identified as
"die Vogelstrausspolitik des Biirgertums," "das materialis- !
tische Geschaftsleben," and "die rasse- und kulturlose j
Hasslichkeit des Biirgertums" (p. 23). j
Untermann pointed out that Wedekind resorted to the
ludicrous and ridiculous in many of his descriptions, and i
1
his comical exaggeration was sometimes centered on such j
j
subjects as death, suffering, and misery. "Komik und ;
52"Das Groteske bei Wedekind, Thomas Mann, Heinrich j
Mann, Morgenstern und Wilhelm Busch," unpublished Ph.D. i
dissertation (University of Konigsberg, 1929), p. 12. j
34
Elend," said Untermann, "stehen unversohnt nebeneinander,
ein grausiger Gegenstand erfahrt eine spottisch-sachliche
Behandlung" (p. 46). An example of this antithesis is the
description of an operation in Der Schnellmaler {1887):
Wir also frisch dran, eingeschlafert, aufgetrennt,
ausgeputzt, eingeseift, gespiilt, aufgehangt, getrocknet,
gebiigelt, wieder eingesetzt und zusammengeflickt, und j
wie ich auch meinen guten Patienten ins Leben zuriick-
rufe— . . . "mein guter Patient war kurz vorher aus- j
gegangen."53 |
54 55
Barrett Clark and John Gassner also maintained
that Wedekind represented no particular school, recognized
j
no established laws, and wrote in defiance of morality and i
!
accepted belief. Clark said that some of his plays con- j
i
tained scenes that "would sicken a police reporter." He !
j
probably referred to Erdcreist and especially to the j
^Frank Wedekind, Gesammelte Werke (Munchen, 1920), |
VII, 66-67. In addition to this collection of nine volumes,
another collection of five volumes will be used: Ausqe-
wahlte Werke. ed. Fritz Strich (Munchen, 1924). The 1920
edition will henceforth be referred to as ^W. The 1924 edi-j
tion will be indicated as AW. The Roman and Arabic numerals
will refer to the volume and page number, respectively, j
rather than to acts and scenes. !
!
i
54"Wedekind," The Continental Drama of Today. 2nd ed. j
(New York, 1915), pp. 115-116.
55"Wedekind and the Expressionists," Masters of the
Drama (New York, 1940), pp. 483-484.
concluding scene in Die Biichse der Pandora, in which Lulu
and Countess Geschwitz are murdered in the most gruesome
fashion by Jack the Ripper. Clark pointed out that often
the most innocuous dramas contained scenes that were sick- j
eningly brutal. Nevertheless, Wedekind displayed an excep
tional genius in his art of presenting life and character,
of creating illusion, of producing a thing of power and j
l
beauty; and his unparalleled audacity, his reckless icono- !
clasm, his absolute disregard for accepted forms in art j
I
!
cannot fail to command respect. j
i
J
Martin Esslin commented on the group of poetes maudits j
l
I
who have influenced the Theater of the Absurd and included !
i
Buchner and Grabbe; from them the line of development leads j
i
I
straight to Wedekind, the Dadaists, German Expressionism, |
56 !
and the early Brecht. :
i
According to Gerhard F. Hering, Wedekind's influence ori
Brecht is unmistakable: i
Wedekind der Bankelgitarrist, der Moritatensanger
bleibt unter uns: ohne ihn nicht Brechts Erstling
"Baal," ohne ihn nicht die Moritatensuite der "Drei-
groschen-Oper," die Song-Girlanden von "Mahagony" nicht. !
Brecht selbst, so listig er es spater vermochte, Spuren |
C f .
The Theatre of the Absurd (Garden City, New York,
1961), pp. 239-240.
36
zu tilgen, Gefuhle zu verbergen hinter dem imperialen
Hochmut eines schmerzlich-resignierenden Lachelns, wie
von chinesischem Maskenmund, Brecht selbst hat an zwei
Stellen seiner Jourhale zu erkennen gegeben, wie tief,
wie reich gewesen, was ihn an Wedekind band von den
Anfangen her . . .5?
Recapitulation
The preceding review of Wedekind criticism indicates a
i
general feeling that Wedekind's literary style was influ- j
enced by authors of several literary schools. Several cri
tics maintained that his work was related to the "music
hall" stylej to the Sturm und Drang, and to Bohemianism.
j
Many described his character as romantic and his style as j
i
t
impressionistic; some even identified him with naturalism, j
although he was a strong opponent of this literary movement.!
I
I
I
Most critics agreed that he was foremost among the stylistic
forerunners of expressionism. j
If a writer is identified with several literary j
!
schools, he usually does not belong to any one school, and |
this seems to have been true of Wedekind. This dramatist
wrote most of his works when naturalism was gradually be
coming unpopular and expressionism had not yet emerged as i
57"Frank Wedekind," Neue Zurcher Zeituncr. No. 3094
(July 19, 1964), 5.
37
the new movement in art and literature. Also, toward the
end of the century, dissatisfied as he was with both natur
alism and neoromanticism, he was striving to develop a
dramatic style of his own.
i
like his concept of morality, his original dramatic
style is difficult to analyze. He confused the critics
through his use of paradox and his disregard for all drama
tic conventions. To add to the confusion, he did not limit
himself to one genre. either to comedy or to tragedy, but
instead used a mixture of tragedy and comedy. An example
of this occurred at the end of Musik. Klara has experienced!
a series of tragedies; she has never realized her ambition
j
to become a Wagnerian opera singer, and her illegitimate j
i
I
child has died soon after birth. She has suffered a nervous
i
i
breakdown and been led out of the room. Wedekind's tragi
comic style is exemplified when Lindekuh, who is unaware of
i
Klara's background, says, "Die kann ein Lied singenl" (AW
IV, 126). There are many such examples of this type of
shock technique in Wedekind's dramas.
As noted, Wedekind shocked the critics and the audien-j
ces with his language, which has been described as an un-
poetic, unnatural Allerweltsdeutsch. He combined very short,
speeches (sometimes only one word) with lengthy monologues.
38
He also used the technique of Aneinandervorbeireden. in
which two or more actors talk as if they are alone on the
stage; what one actor says is not necessarily connected in
l
thought with the other actor's speech. These techniques !
!
often made Wedekind's dialogue abrupt and difficult to fol
low, sometimes creating the effect of puppets speaking.
However, it is Wedekind's absolute disregard of accept-
!
ed forms of art that has gradually commanded respect, par
ticularly in the last few years. During the past sixty-four
years criticism of Wedekind has been extremely diverse, and
he has had equally passionate supporters and detractors.
While he was given credit by some writers for having created
a new genre. the grotesque drama of manners, others claimed |
|
that his significance lay only in the creation of a new j
i
dramatic language. Since his death in 1918, Wedekind has
been neglected in Germany for two long periods, only to j
experience two resurrections of interest in his work.
j
The next chapter of this study will attempt to show
Wedekind's attitude toward naturalism, the naturalistic
method of documentation and photographic realism, and neo
romanticism.
CHAPTER XII
WEDEKIND'S REJECTION OF
NATURALISM AND NEOROMANTICISM
In one sense it is possible to say that naturalism in
literature began with the German critic and dramatist,
Gotthold Lessing, in the middle of the eighteenth century.
Lessing's dramas were closely linked with the rise of the j
I
i
I
middle class, and for the first time in literature bourgeois
!
f
characters were depicted as capable of tragic emotion. This!
i
development continued practically without interruption, |
i
making its special appeal to the French dramatists who fol- !
j
lowed. In France the three outstanding naturalistic writers1
of the nineteenth century were Simile Zola (1840-1902),
i
I
Gustave Flaubert (1821-1880), and Guy de Maupassant (1850- |
1893).1 |
1 l
In particular, it was the theories of the French lit- !
erary critic and historian, Taine (1828-1893), that exer
cised a powerful influence on the literature of the period.
He applied scientific laws to the study of society and
39.
40
Wedekind was born a little later than these leaders of
the naturalistic movement and he constantly criticized their
literary efforts. Even though he began as a naturalist, in
his final development, it had very little influence on Wede
kind. He had no patience with the weakness of the literary
characters current in the literature of naturalism and neo
romanticism, and considered naturalistic characters too ]
|
"impassive" and neoromantic characters too "sentimental." I
Julius Bab commented about Wedekind's attitude toward the
bourgeois characters of these two movements:
i
I
Er hat nie etwas mit dem Wesen jener Generation \
gemeinsam gehabt, denn er war kein Gebundener, weder j
im sozialen noch im religiosen Sinne. Was ist er
nicht alles gewesen? Reklamechef, Impresario, Bankel- :
sanger, Journalist, Schauspieler— und immer ein leiden- j
schaftlicher Verehrer alles unbiirgerlich schweifenden j
Artistentums, aller Gestalten, die da am Rand der |
biirgerlichen Gesellschaft schwanken, der Abenteurer
und Gaukler. So empfand er den Menschen gewiss nicht
wie die Naturalisten oder die Neuromantiker als das
tausendfach bestimmte Glied des Ganzen, als den ratsel-
haften Treffpuhkt dunkler Krafte, er nahm ihn als eine
souverane, selbst Schicksal bildende Gewalt, nicht als
eine geistige und sittliche Potenz, sondern als ele-
mentare, sinnliche Naturkraft.^ I
conceived man as a mere product of heredity and environmentJ
2"Einzelganger und Vorlaufer," in R. F. Arnold, Das
■deutsche Drama (Munchen, 1925), pp. 772-773.
41
In his early works, while he was groping insecurely for
a particular style, Bab said that Wedekind was stimulated by
Gerhart Hauptmann, who referred him to the dramatist, Georg
Buchner. Bab noted a specific adaptation which Wedekind
drew from Buchner: "Denn fur den jungen Wedekind war in
der Tat die Form kongenial, die er dann ganz offenbar durch I
i
starkste Einfuhlung in 'Dantons Tod' und 'Woyzeck' gefunden
hat" (p. 773).
Otto Mann, in an essay, drew a comparison between
Hauptmann's and Wedekind's concepts of "people," i.e.,
|
characters, and "life." He claimed that Hauptmann's people
were more preoccupied with living than with anything spiri-
tual. Rather than being intuitive and straightforward, they
wandered about blindly, and were portrayed as animals driven!
by the fundamental urges of fear, hunger, and sex. Thus,
their inner ideals corresponded to their outer living, part
ly through their insensitivity, which made them defenseless
and forced them to suffer, but partly, also, through demon
iacal impulse. On the other hand, Mann thought that Wede
kind rs concept of people and life differed basically from
Hauptmann's and that Wedekind specifically emphasized sex
as the driving force for man’s actions:
42
Fur Wedekind hingegen scheint Leben eine naturlich-
ere und positivere Macht, ja der Inbegriff der natur-
lichsten und starksten Lust des Lebens, der Geschlechts-
lust. Diese These und Haltung vertritt er in seinen
Dramen. Er zeigt hier einmal Menschen, die zuerst Ge-
schlechtswesen sind und die sich in ihrer Sexualitat
ausleben. Ferner zeigt er Reformatoren, die, wie er
selbst, sich die Urn- und Hoherziichtung des Menschen zu
einem glucklichen Korper- und Geschlechtswesen zur
Aufgabe machen.^
j
i
i
In their styles of writing, Mann said that Hauptmann1 s !
characters spoke the natural, ultrarealistic language of I
i
!
life. In contrast, he pointed out. that Wedekind was in
fluenced not only by the Sturm und Dr ana writers, Lenz,
Buchner, and Grabbe, in language and expression but that he
went back even further to Shakespeare:
So greift Wedekind weiter zuriick, auf das Urbild auch
des Sturm und Drang, auf die Sprache Shakespeares. Hier
war die mimisch-dynamische Rede ausgebildet, die charak-
teristische Zuspitzung, das barock Gesteigerte, das |
Gegenstlick zu aller klassischen Deklamation und an sie |
anschliessender gesellschaftlicher Konversation. Der
Sturm und Drang entnahm Shakespeare seine geniale Kraft-
und oft nur Kraftmeiersprache. Auch Wedekind ubernimmt
dies. Er versteckt nur diese literarische Herkunft durch
eine Naturalisierung, durch modernen Jargon und betonte
Schnoddrigkeit. (p. 104)
A form of naturalism in dramatic style may be seen in
3"Das deutsche Drama des 20. Jahrhunderts," Deutsche
Literatur im zwanzigsten Jahrhundert. ed. Hermann Friedmann
and Otto Mann, 3rd ed. (Heidelberg, 1959), p. 93.
43
the "analytical drama," in which the characters were said
I
I
to be fixed (fertige Charakt_er e) . In effect, this meant
that they were not developed by the action of the drama,
which was merely the unfolding of a catastrophe prepared by j
j
the course of events prior to the first act. j
i
j
The naturalistic drama is one, not of action, but of j
situation. Scenes or "processes" from the lives of j
human beings are shown, not in shapely acts (in some j
naturalistic plays, e.g. Das Friedensfest. acts are j
called Vorganae), but shapelessly fluid and cut off
in processu by the fall of the curtain. There is
neither beginning nor end, but just a "chunk of life."
Both Ibsen and Hauptmann made use of this analytic drama,
and two good examples are Ibsen's Pillars of Society (1887)
j
and Hauptmann1s Vor Sonnenauf crane (1889). i
i
i
Wedekind's hostile attitude toward the naturalistic i
dramatic style is clearly stated in a long letter to his |
i
mother, dated May 6, 1886: j
i
Die leidige Natur ist ja, Gott seis geklagt, bekannt- j
lich nicht uberall schon, nicht einmal genussbringend, j
und wenn man ihr nun zuerst jeden Punken von Geist aus- !
treibt und dem armen Geschopf dann noch dazu jeden mit- j
leidigen Kleiderfetzen vom Leib reisst, so muss ja noth- j
wendigerweise gar Vieles zum Vorschein kommen, an dem j
sich das erholungsdurstige Menschenherz auch mit dem j
^Bithell, p. 26.
44
besten Willen nicht sonderlich erbauen kann. Paul
Heyse^ schliesst ein kurzes Knittelgedicht, womit er
diese himmelsturmenden Schulknaben beehrt, mit dem !
zarten Vers: "Die Muse wandelt in stolzer Ruh vorbei
und halt sich die Nase zu."^
|
Wedekind therefore was one of the first to depart from
the naturalistic type of construction. One of the reasons,
as Mann saw it, was that Wedekind preferred a freer struc
ture: I
!
I
Stoff und Biihne legten die Zerteilung des drama- j
tischen Ganzen in viele raumlich und zeitlich getrenn- |
tere Szenen nahe. Die einzelnen dramatischen Momente j
wurden starker betont als die Verkniipfungen zwischen !
ihnen. Auch Wedekind gibt mehr solche Bilder mit der !
ihnen eigenen Strahlkraft, weniger ihre Verknupfung,
den unerbittlichen, zu Furcht und Mitleid erschuttern-
den Fortgang. Doch hielt er einen tieferen Zusammen-
hang fest, indem er an den Beginn seines Dramas Pramis- !
sen setzte, aus denen er spaterhin Folgerungen zog. i
Der dogmatische Expressionismus kann hier weiter lockern I
^Paul Heyse (1830-1914) was one of the foremost repre- |
sentatives of the Miinchener Dichterkreis (1852-1883). This
was a circle of artists in Munich who were opposed to some
of the undesirable effects of the literature of the "Young
Germans," some of whom had made aggressive attempts to re
form the political and social conditions of their time.
Like the preceding "Epigones," these artists wished to pre
serve the classical and the romantic values of the golden age
of German literature. Heyse's tragedies, Hadrian. Alcibi- j
ades. and Graf Konicsmark. illustrate both his immaculate
artistic will and his increasingly noticeable trend towards
superrefinement and decadence.
^Gesammelte Briefe. ed. Fritz Strich (Miinchen, 1924),
I, 144.
45
und auflosen. (p. 105)
The environmental forces which played upon the person were
not brought to the stage. Only the person and his inner
conflict were shown; the person, then, merely responded to
the forces through emotional experiences, and his inner
stresses and drives were dramatized.
Georg Schneider noted that, as an opponent of natural
ism, Wedekind continually wrote Schlusseldramen and that he j
was present in nearly every one of his dramas as the masked
main figure. "Das Urbild dieser Halb- oder Viertelmaske
ist wiederum meist der Verfasser in Person. Man nennt sie j
j
7
sein Sprachrohr.1 1 j
An early work, Kinder und Narren (1889, the second |
version titled Die iunge Welt. 1892) had its setting in a J
j
girls' boarding school. In this satirical comedy Wedekind i
j
took revenge on his former friend, Gerhart Hauptmann, who \
|
had unmasked him and his family as "Familie Scholz" in Das j
I
Friedensfest. He has Hauptmann appear as the writer, Franz j
Ludwig Meier, beardless, with a heavy growth of hair, and in!
the normal dress of a hunter. Wedekind is Karl Rappart,
^Die Schlusselliteratur (Stuttgart, 1951), I, 135.
46
Meier's friend. He altered the title of Hauptmann's work,
g
Vor Sonnenaufcrancr. and called it Vor Hellwerden. Meier's
wife, Alma, complains to a boarding school friend:
Wenn er mir einen Kuss gab, hatte er immer das Notizbuch
in der einen Hand, und mit der andern Hand schrieb er
hinein, was ich fur ein Gesicht dazu machte. . . . Wenn
ich fragte: Wie hast du geschlafen? dann schrieb er es
in sein Notizbuch. Wenn ich erzahlte, es sei ein Kind
iiberfahren worden, dann schrieb er es in sein Notizbuch.
Wenn ich ihn beschwor, er mochte doch das gottverdammte
Aufschreiben lassen, dann schrieb er es in sein Notiz
buch. (GW II, 87-88)
Meier blames Karl for the failure of the drama, main
taining that Karl either had lied to him or had not lived j
realistically. With notebook in hand, Meier even records
j
his wife's reactions to intimacies and, when she objects to
I
I
this, decides to observe himself.
Ich habe ALma nicht den geringsten Vorwurf zu machen.
Aber wenn ich meine naturalistischen Studien an Alma
machte, dann wurde Alma unnaturlich. Wenn ich meine
naturalistischen Studien an einem andern Objekt machte,
dann wurde sie eifersiichtig. So blieb mir denn weiter j
nichts mehr iibrig, als meine naturalistischen Studien
an mir selber zu machen. (GW II, 88)
In this passage Wedekind satirizes the desires of the young
naturalists to outdo even Zola in scientific observation of !
8Schneider, Die Schlusselliteratur (Stuttgart, 1952),
II, 189.
life.
Meier is emotionally upset when Karl intervenes and
tries to persuade him to give up his false notions about
art:
Dein Realismus hat dich die Poesie vergessen lassen.
Aber deiner Poesie verdanke ich das Teuerste, was mir
das Leben bis jetzt beschieden hat. Du sollst es ihr
auch verdanken. Der wahre Poet dichtet ja nicht, in-
dem er die Menschen belauert, sondern indem er seine
helle Freude an den Menschen hat. (GW II, 90)
This comedy is not only a parody of a naturalistic poet
who writes realistic social dramas, but it also satirizes
the naturalistic method of documentation and ridicules its
method of photographic realism. It shows the author's pro-
i
test against naturalism in general, and gives evidence of j
|
his independence of the dramatic trends of the time. i
In Erdcreist and Die Biichse der Pandora. Wedekind con-
I
tinued to attack the weakness of the characters in natural-j
istic literature. Lulu, the heroine of these two plays, was
!
a symbol of the soulless woman, a mixture of vampire and j
vegetable, in whom the sexual demon, the Earth-Spirit, j
i
reigned. As Mann stated, 1 1 Er stiftet kein Gluck. Er rui- j
niert die Manner um diese Frau herum und am Ende auch sie
48
9
selbst." Erdaeist and Die Biichse der Pandora are known as
the Lulu-tragedy, and they were written over a period of
10
approximately ten years.
Nearly fourteen years had passed between the writing
of Fruhlinos Erwachen and the completion of the Lulu-
tragedy. During this time Wedekind took several trips to
Paris and lived there more than three years; and this period
brought about new insights and experiences, which caused a
decisive change in the dramatist. While Fruhlinas Erwachen
(a drama in pictures and dialogue) grew purely out of his
own youthful experience, Erdaeist and Die Biichse der Pandora
developed both from his Parisian experience and knowledge j
I
of the world. j
Also, at the turn of the century Munich had become,
I
along with Berlin and Vienna, a cultural center with an j
i
atmosphere characterized by Bohemian artists embracing their
untrammelled ioie de vivre and pouring scorn on philistinism
j
!
j
^Mann, p. 93. j
10Artur Kutscher discovered a French source in the pan-j
tomime Lulu written by Felicien Campsaur. This source was j
unknown up to this time (1891), and Kutscher claimed that [
no book or theatrical evening had helped Wedekind in his
Lulu material. The inspiration came from his life and ex
perience in Paris.
in every stratum of life. It was at this time that Wedekind
expressed social criticism in articles for Simnlizissimus.
the satirical review. It was also in Munich where the tJber.4
|
brettl. the "super-cabaret," originated; on its platform j
Wedekind, accompanying himself on a guitar, recited his I
i
cynical ballads about seduced girls, murdered aunts, and i
I
the delights of free love. The attraction he found during j
his life within the lower fringes of the theatrical world, j
j
circus, music hall, and variety, influenced his style of
dramatic production, reflecting a love for the excessively
ornate and the grotesque. j
Thus, by 1900 his writing no longer reflected only his!
experience and relationship to the world, but he became more
|
rebellious and took up the struggle against the literature
of his contemporaries by developing his own type of reality I
i
j
in opposition to what he called their "pale" reality. He !
j
i
claimed that the naturalistic themes of alcoholism, poverty^
and sex had been overdone by many writers. As a result, j
I
\
these topics were no longer interesting enough to be used i
as dramatic material; they had lost their appeal. Wedekind;
contended that the time was ripe for new dramatic material j
and that this material could be found only among nonliterary
people, that is, people who were not influenced by what
50
others had written. Hence, the "new" dramatic problems had
to develop from man's own inner emotions and experiences.
Wedekind wanted to present nonliterary people, and in the
mask of Aiwa Schon, writer in Die Biichse der Pandora, he
saw the greatest danger in the literary world. He had Aiwa
I
explain:
Ich suchte mit klarstem Zielbewusstsein den Verkehr
mit Menschen, die nie in ihrem Leben eih Buch ge'lesen j
haben. Ich klammerte mich mit aller Selbstverleugnung j
und Begeisterung an diese Elemente, um zu den hochsten j
Hohen dichterischen Ruhmes emporgetragen zu werden. i
Die Rechnung war falsch. Ich bin der Martyrer meines
Berufes. (AW II, 208) J
i
j
"Wir sind viel zu literarisch," said Aiwa, "und das ist der |
i
I
Pluch, der auf unserer jungen Literatur lastet." He con- !
tinued:
Wir kennen keine anderen Fragen und Probleme als solche,
die unter Schriftstellern und Gelehrten auftauchen.
Unser Gesichtskreis reicht iiber die Grenzen unserer
Zunftinteressen nicht hinaus. Um wieder auf die Fahrte
einer grossen gewaltigen Kunst zu gelangen, mussten wir
uns moglichst viel unter Menschen bewegen . . . denen
die einfachsten animalischen Instinkte bei ihren Hand-
lungen massgebend sind. (AW II, 136)
Wedekind's attack on the weakness of characters in
naturalistic literature is seen as he has Aiwa Schon dis
cuss modern literature:
Seit zwanzig Jahren bringt die Literatur nichts als
51
Halbmenschen zustande; Manner, die keine Kinder machen
und Weiber, die keine gebaren konnen. Das nennt sich
"modernes Problem." (AW II, 149)
In contrast to this weakness, Wedekind wanted to show
i
characters embodying strong sensual passions. In a world
morally confused and turbulent he turned to a glorification
of the animal instinct in man which he saw as the only true j
beauty. This viewpoint is esqpressed in the Erdaeist pro
logue :
Was seht ihr in den Lust- und Trauerspielen?' . —
Haustiere, die so wohlgesittet fiihlen,
An blasser Pflanzenkost ihr Mutchen kuhlen
Und schwelgen in behaglichem Geplarr,
Wie jene andern— unten im Parterre:
Der eine Held kann keinen Schnaps vertragen, I
Der andre zweifelt, ob er richtig liebt, !
Den dritten hort ihr an der Welt verzagen, !
Fiinf Akte lang hort ihr ihn sich beklagen, j
Und niemand, der den Gnadenstoss ihm gibt.—
Das wahre Tier, das wilde, schone Tier,
Das— meine Damenl— sehn Sie nur bei mir. fAW II, 8)
The productions he derided particularly were those of Ger
hart Hauptmann: the hero who cannot stand strong drink is
Alfred Loth in Vor Sonnenaufgana; and the hero who does not
know whether he is really in love is Johannes Vockerat in
j
Ei.ns.ame Menschen. In contrast, Wedekind lauds his animals, !
the tiger, the monkey, the camel:
Und sanft schmiegt das Getier sich mir zu Fussen,
52
Wenn— er schiesst ins Publikum.
— donnernd mein Revolver knallt.
Rings bebt die Kreatur; ich bleibe kalt—
Der Mensch bleibt kalt;— Sie ehrfurchtsvoll zu grussen.
(AW II, 9)
At this point Lulu comes forward, and the manager com
ments on her qualities. She has been created to allure,
mislead, poison, and murder without paying for her crimes.
Sie ward geschaffen, Unheil anzustiften,
Zu locken, zu verfiihren, zu vergiften—
Zu morden, ohne dass es einer spurt.
Lulu am Kinn krauend:
Mein susses Tier, sei ja.nur nicht geziert!
Nicht albern, nicht gekiinstelt, nicht verschroben,
Auch wenn die Kritiker dich weniger loben.
Du hast kein Recht, uns durch Miaun und Fauchen
Die Urgestalt des Weibes zu verstauchen,
Durch Faxenmachen uns und Fratzenschneiden
Des Lasters Kindereinfalt zu verleiden1 .
Du sollst— drum sprech' ich heute sehr ausfuhrlich—
Naturlich sprechen und nicht unnatiirlichl
Denn erstes Grundgesetz seit friihster Zeit
In jeder Kunst war Selbstverstandlichkeit;
(AW II, 9-10)
Many have agreed that the author gave the best interpreta
tion of this work in his prologue. An animal trainer ap
pears, whip in hand, and attracts the public into his booth:
Hereinspaziert in die Menagerie,
Ihr stolzen Herrn, ihr lebenslust'gen Frauen,
Mit heisser Wollust und mit kaltem Grauen
Die unbeseelte Kreatur zu schauen,
Gebandigt durch das menschliche Genie. (AW II, 7)
All these people are animals, wild beasts of a menagerie,
53
and Lulu, to be sure, is the beautiful but deadly serpent.
She is soulless and callous, driven only by her animal in
stincts, and she leads man after man to his ruin. She is
described as "beautiful as the world on the first day of
j
creation, with a smile on her lips and nothing in her
heart."
The Lulu-tragedy is considered Wedekind's most start
ling and most significant dramatic achievement, and Lulu is
his famous Earth Spirit. She is not a sinner, as the bour
geoisie might believe, nor a product merely of her milieu,
as the naturalists might maintain; rather, she is the very
incarnation of womanhood and sex, the embodiment of life j
i
and desire. The highly melodramatic action revolves around!
I
j
Lulu, and we see her luring one victim after another to j
[
destruction.
Wedekind's dramatic technique is individualistic in
that the construction of his plays obeys no law but his own
convenience. He rarely prepares the reader psychologically
for a dramatic scene (as the naturalists would do'.); it un
folds , occurs casually, and passes. The action and dialogue:
develop gradually from the inner conflicts and contradic
tions of the opposing, struggling characters.
It has been said that in Wedekind's dialogue there is
54
chaos without art, particularly in Friihlinqs Erwachen and
the Lulu-tragedy where the language is so varied. It is
easy to understand that an artist who attempted to revolu
tionize naturalistic drama in content and characterization
would be equally determined to change its language. Friih-
lincrs Erwachen. for example, has three levels of speech:
the language of the young people has a lyrical quality; the j
i
language of the adults is matter-of-fact; and that of the
schoolteachers is reduced to imbecility. In Erdqeist and
Die Biichse der Pandora the dialogue is in stichometric form.
Some of Wedekind's speeches and counterspeeches are of
such length that they become an interminable debate. There
are other speeches and counterspeeches scarcely more than
one line in length: exclamations, interjections, and frag
mentary sentences uttered in rapid succession without ever
appearing as questions or answers.
In the following, the intensity of Schwarz's feelings
lays such claim to his thinking that he does not hear or
understand Dr. Schon. In referring to Lulu, Schon has
claimed that Schwarz married "a half-million" and is one of
i;LEven their names— "Fliegentod" (Flydeath), "Zungen-
schlag" (Tonguestroke), "Hungergurt" (Hungerbelt), and so
on— are pure farce.
55
the best present-day artists. In view of her background
(here Schon refers to her as Mignon) it will be impossible
for bourgeois society to accept her:
Schwarz ganz wirr: Von wera sprichst du denn?
Schon: Ich spreche von ihrem Vater. Du bist Kiinstler,
sag' ich. Deine Ideale liegen auf einem andern Ge-
biete als die eines Lohnarbeiters.
Schwarz: Ich verstehe von alledem kein Wort.
Schon: Ich spreche von den menschenunwurdigen Verhalt-
nissen, aus denen sich das Madchen dank seiner Fiihrung
zu dem entwickelt hat, was sie ist'.
Schwarz: Wer denn? !
i
Schon: Wer denn?— Deine Frau.
Schwarz: Eva??
Schon: Ich nannte sie Mignon.
Schwarz: Ich meinte, sie hiesse Nelli?
Schon: So nannte sie Dr. Goll.
Schwarz: Ich nannte sie Eva . . .
Schon: Wie sie eigentlich hiess, weiss ich nicht.
Schwarz geistesabwesend: Sie weiss es vielleicht. |
(AW II, 55) j
From this example it can be seen that the characters j
speak as if they were alone on the stage, and what one
speaker says is not necessarily connected with the remarks
of another. This is the technique, typical of Wedekind,
which was referred to above as Aneinandervorbeireden: it has
a tendency to make the dialogue abrupt, choppy, disjointed,
12
and at times somewhat incomprehensible in a logical sense.
l^It is interesting to note how Wedekind came upon this
particular dialogue technique. He had observed that in or
dinary conversation one person frequently asks another a
56
Dialoge sind es keine mehr, unwirklich gespensterhaft
reden die Menschen an einander vorbei, jeder seinen
Monolog— und wir erhalten des Gegenteil vom absichts-
voll gelerikten franzosischen Konversationsstuck sowohl
wie vom planlosen aber wirklichkeitstreuen Dialog des
Naturalismus.^
In considering Erdaeist and Die Biichse der Pandora, the
absence of rigid concentration, the lack of sharp dialogue,
and the theme of the two plays are indicative of the un
stable personality of the author. Wilhelm Herzog's remarks
concerning Wedekind's theme of sensuality, his technique,
and his style are particularly important. He claimed that
Wedekind's nervous, abbreviated, abrupt style was the ex
pression of the writer's strangely tense soul:
Wedekind sieht das sexuelle Leben als den Urgrund
aller unserer Triebe, unserer Begierden, unserer Sehn- •
suchte, und er muss also als Kiinstler, da er dieses
Weltbild zu zeichnen versucht, die Ausschweifungen, ja
die Entartungen und Perversionen der Erotik und der
Sexualitat in seinen Bezirk einbeziehen; ja er wiirde_
falschen, wenn er davor zuriickschreckte . . . Es ware
eine besondere Aufgabe, wollte man zeigen, wie es ihm
gelingt, sein Weltbild zu gestalten. Mit welchen
question and receives an irrelevant answer. This is espec
ially noticeable in group discussions, in which the partici
pants are continually going off on tangents of their own.
Mordecai Gorelik pointed out that the "oblique," seemingly
irrelevant speeches used by Chekhov and Wedekind also at
tracted the expressionistic writers, particularly Georg
Kaiser. See New Theatres for Old (New York, 1962), p. 252.
■^Naumann, p. 91.
57
technischen Mitteln er ein Drama konstruiert, wie er
die Menschen reden, schweigen, aneinander vorbeisprech-
en, stocken, zaudern, handeln lasst, kurz: wie dieser
nervose, abkurzende, abrupte Stil der aquivalente Aus-
druck fur seine "seltsam gespannte Seele" ist.^4
Also, there are so many plots and so much intrigue in
the works that one might say there is too much "tragedy" in
one tragedy. For example, one character has a heart attack,
another cuts his throat with a razor, a third is shot, a
fourth disappears in the Seine, a fifth succumbs to opium.
Finally, Jack the Ripper kills Lulu and the Lesbian, Ge-
schwitz. In his newspaper review, "Begrabnis erster Klas-
se," Werner Wollenberger stated that the effect of all this
15
stage tragedy was "three hours of utter boredom."
In this plethora of melodrama, it is difficult to de
termine the exact theme or message. The author, who advo
cated a life of unrestrained sexual license, seems to con
tradict himself by making use of a macabre ending. Lulu,
14Herzog, pp. 218-219.
15Zurcher Woche. No. 23 (June 8, 1962), 7. This critid
also compared Wedekind's shock technique with that of Diir-
renmatt, Williams, Sartre, and Genet. "Uber weite Strecken i
war bei Wedekind der Schock ein Selbstzweck. . . . Diirren-
matt erschreckt den Burger auch noch, aber er tut das nur
nebenbei. Der Schock ist ihm ein Trick . . ." His conten
tion was that Durrenmatt's technique was more effective, at
least on the modern stage.
58
who has escaped to the East End of London, becomes a pros
titute, picks up several men, but is then brutally and
sadistically murdered. The villainess has paid for her
sinful life at the end of the play, and "justice" is there
fore administered.
According to Friederich, the naturalistic dramatists
were concerned with social pity in one form or another, and
it was an ever recurrent theme with them. But they tried
to be absolutely objective and to let the facts speak for
themselves. Biological problems and especially sexual ques
tions were discussed freely, for life was explained largely
on a purely scientific basis.^
At the time of this writing, however, Wedekind's pur
pose was not only to preach the doctrine of unrestrained
sexual license, but also to entertain in a shocking and
grotesque way. Although presumably his intention was not to
revolutionize dramatic style, yet this proved to be his
important influence on later expressionistic writers. Per
haps he finally decided, as a struggling artist, to increase
I
his popularity, no matter what the cost. He may have felt j
that it was worth the risk to become the subject of
^Friederich, et al.. p. 200.
59
controversy rather than to remain "undiscussed" and hence
i
unknown. To apply the attxtude of the artist of the modern
theatrical world, Wedekind might readily have been sub
scribing to the saying, "I don't care what the critics say j
or write about me, good or bad, as long as they spell my j
name correctly."
Wedekind did not limit his attacks on naturalistic
i
drama to the characters and dialogue. He also criticized j
naturalistic stage techniques, which he considered outmoded,
and in addition, he demanded a new style of acting. In his
Schauspielkunst. ein Glossarium. he gave a cynical but I
humorous commentary concerning the works of naturalistic j
j
i
playwrights. He explained that their works were successful!
|
because they were easy to perform, although this did not j
j
imply that they had less literary and social value. For |
I
years the spectators had placed only one demand upon an ac- j
1
tor, and that was not to let the dialogue destroy the drama-j
j
tic effect of a scene. Wedekind claimed that current play- >
i
wrights could no longer use the actors who had celebrated j
i
their triumphs in that type of art, because modern drama
turgy was concerned with more serious problems.
Die heutige Dramatik behandelt ernstere Probleme und
pflegt eine weitaus hohere Kunstform als sie der
60
Naturalismus kannte. Dass die heutige literarische
Produktion keine Serienfolge aufzuweisen hat, ist
sicherlich kein Beweis dafiir, dass sie geistig tiefer
steht als die von vor zwanzig Jahren. Es ist aber auch
durchaus kein Beweis dafiir, dass ihre Buhnentechnik
tiefer steht als die jener Dramen. Schon mehr als
einer der heute schaffenden Dramatiker missfiel nicht
etwa deshalb, weil er buhnentechnisch zu schlecht,
sondern im Gegenteil, weil er biihnentechnisch zu gut
fur die Leistungsfahigkeit des heutigen literarischen
Theaters gearbeitet hatte.-*-7
I
For years actors had been accustomed to naturalistic
and neoromantic plays and they did not understand the revo
lutionary type of dramatic acting that Wedekind was advo
cating. In his Preface to the first edition of Oahu, he
said that some actors repeatedly advised him to omit the
last two acts of the play, and for years he had to contend
with this type of criticism by the men and women cast in his
plays. The first time Erdaeist was performed in Miinchen,
in 1898, for example, the actors pitied Wedekind and con
sidered him a "Verirrten" (a person who has lost his way).
On one occasion, a couple of the principal actors frankly
told Wedekind that they simply did not understand their
roles. They asked him to clarify the parts and give them
the correct interpretation, and assured him that they would
17(Munchen and Leipzig, 1910), pp. 7-8.
|act their roles accordingly. To this request Wedekind re
plied sarcastically:
| Einfachere Rollen als ihre beiden kann doch unmoglich
jemand schreiben. Mich hat das Publikum noch iramer
| verstanden, wenn ich Gelegenheit hatte, direkt zu ihm
j zu sprechen. Spielen Sie die Rollen doch bitte nur so
I einfach, wie sie geschrieben sind, dann wird man sie
j sicherlich verstehen. (i
f
jThere are numerous passages in Wedekind's plays similar to
this one, which give evidence of, his attitude toward "medi-
iocre" actors.
[
One other phase of Wedekind's literary attack that
should be mentioned is. his use of irony and satire. In this
respect, his main target was the neoromantic writers in
general. More specifically, he derided the emphasis they
placed on the inner aspect of the individual, his subtle
moods and emotions. At the time of his early writing,
18
Wedekind's favorite author was Heinrich Heine, and he
found in Heine the same feeling for irony which had always
been firmly rooted in himself.
As early as 1881, satire and irony played the main role
ip.
His Die romantische Schule was the earliest history
of romanticism by one who termed himself its last represen
tative; it was an essay which mingled profound remarks with
cheap witticisms and vile attacks (e.g., on August Wilhelm
Schlegel).
62
in Felix und Galathea. a fragmentary poem written when Wede
kind was only seventeen. He admitted that his sole purpose
in writing this poem was to entertain his seventeen-year-old
friends during their frequent evenings at the tavern (GW I,
7). Irony destroyed the shepherd's peaceful mood in the
pastoral scene, and the comical element was treated in a
burlesqued manner. The introductory verses, which the
writer called Praludium. described the awakening of the muse
Kalliope and served as an example of Wedekind's irony:
Aus ihren grossen, dunkelblauen Augen spriihen
Schon wieder neue, wunderbare Phantasien,
Und ihr Gedanke folgt der irren Spur • j
Der teuren Helden, die sie zu besingen I
Die straffgespannten Saiten lasst erklingen. j
(GW I, 8)
The young shepherd, Felix, was presented as a country bump- j
l
i
kin and the shepherdess, Galathea, as an uncouth farm
■ i 19
gir 1.
Wedekind's use of cynicism was evident when Felix used
the trumpet to play sentimental tunes to please his lover,
instead of the flute as used in the traditional shepherd
play. The coarse peasant girl wanted to be "conquered" by
■^Examples of such humorous conclusions are numerous
also in Heine's poems (compare the sonnet, Die Nacht auf
dem Drachenfels).
63
powerful music. So Felix blasted on the trumpet which, as
Hans Hellwig said, "fits into a shepherd play like a saxo-
20
phone in a Haydn symphony."
Hellwig believed that Wedekind used irony in his early
works, such as Felix und Galathea. to deride and to make
the reader smile sarcastically. Wedekind knew only too well
that people wanted to laugh, and he let them hear the truth j
i j
in an amusing way. Later, irony became his strongest wea
pon. In this respect, he differed sharply from the natural
istic and neoromantic writers who had lost all sense of j
irony and humor (p. 17).
Thus it would appear that Wedekind's attacks on natu
ralistic literature were expressed in several ways. For one
I
thing, he rejected the theory of heredity and environment j
I
which, he felt, tended to create weak, introspective, irre-j
sponsible characters; instead, he preferred characters of j
I
uncompromising will, impulse, and instinct. For another
thing, he ridiculed the idea that man should be a slavish
observer of the minute details in life. For what he con
sidered the "ineffective" naturalistic language of life, he j
20"Frank Wedekinds dichterische Anfange," unpublished
Ph.D. dissertation (University of Giessen, 1928), p. 14.
64
substituted a revolutionary style, the Aneinandervorbeireden
technique. In addition, he often used a mixture of verse
and prose, of long monologues and short one-line speeches.
Finally, his criticism of neoromantic writers was aimed j
largely at their emphasis on individuality and their ex
cessive indulgence in sentiment.
Wedekind was not content merely to satirize his audi
ence, as Shaw did; he insulted it both as playwright and
performer. He fought against the bourgeois public that
wanted to hear him as a "comedian" and as the singer of
coarse and vulgar ballads at the tavern; but his public had
little or no understanding of Wedekind's serious dramas.
Neither censors nor critics seemed to lessen the fury with
which he imposed his eccentric ego upon the German society
of his time.
In concluding the analysis of Wedekind's writings in
this period, it may be said that he refused to be confined
to the naturalistic or the neoromantic schools of drama. He
gradually veered more toward symbolism, and the effects of
his exploitation of symbolism began about the turn of the |
century when the time was ripe for new impressions.
CHAPTER IV
THE NEW MORALITY
In European history the 1890's have been described as
a period of literary ferment and social unrest. The indus
trial revolution had taken place and material progress
seemed unlimited. Yet a sense of doubt and insecurity was
felt as the century drew to a close. Two men, Marx and
Nietzsche, must be associated with the challenge to middle-
class society and its intrinsic set of values: the former
i
I
advocated the revolutionary overthrow of the bourgeois so- j
ciety, and its replacement by an entirely new social order;
and the latter called for a "revaluation of all values," j
i
challenged the moral standards on which the middle class was1
founded, and proclaimed the strong and independent individ
ual. Marx was collective and materialistic, Nietzsche in
dividualistic and spiritual. "Both these challenges," said
Garten, "made themselves increasingly felt towards the end
of the century . . . and helped to undermine the foundations
..... 65 . _ _ ____________________
66
on which the whole social structure was built."^
One of the roles of the writer of naturalistic drama
was that of a social reformer. In contrast, the neoromantic
artist felt that his only duty was to himself and to his
2
art. The artist m expressionism, like the naturalistic
artist, also had a mission: he looked upon himself as a
reformer— moral or even political— of his society.
The Concepts
Wedekind, too, had an ideal, and that was to establish
a new code of values. This new code, 1 1 the emancipation of
the flesh," which he considered would be the universal cure
for all social evils, was based on the morality of beauty.
j
Wedekind stressed this concept in several plays. It was
the main theme in Erdaeist and Die Biichse der Pandora, where
Lulu is not a product of her milieu as much as she is the
embodiment of life and desire. She is the "earth-spirit"
who draws the mind of man down to the dust; in the dust man
•^Garten, pp. 23-24.
^In his Literaturrevolution 1910-1925. Vol. II (Berlin,
1961), Paul Partner compiled several documents and essays
which gave an excellent discussion of the "age of isms" in
German art and literature. He listed a large number of
"isms," some of the more important ones being futurism, cu
bism, expressionism, "Aktivismus," and dadaism.
67
is happy, for "this bliss of the senses is the beam of light:
that pierces the night of our existence." In Karl Hetmann.
der Zwerariese. subtitled Hida11a. the broad theme was a
justification that the ideal of beauty is inherent in the
animal instincts. More specifically, the question raised
was whether or not a man had "the right to disregard the
law of morality."
Wedekind's concept of the ideals of beauty in the
animalistic instincts was similar to Nietzsche's doctrine
of the Gesamtmenschen (as opposed to the ordinary Tei1-
menschen): universal geniuses represented the maximum of
purity, depth, and self-mastery. Nietzsche claimed that in
nature there were no contradictions, only grades of differ
ence. He therefore recognized no basic difference between
good and evil and said that man must cultivate the animal
i
drives within himself, for only then could he attain the j
highest development of his whole self.
Although influenced by the Nietzschean concept, Wede
kind’s new morality did not put an end to the old or tradi
tional morality, whose purpose was to alleviate the suffer
ing of the poor. Nietzsche had condemned the traditional
morality (especially Christian teaching) as the code of the
masses, "the morals of slaves," in which nobility was put
68
down and weakness idealized. He had preached instead "the
morals of masters/1 a life which by the might of its own
superiority would survive. The ideal was aristocratic,
excluding the common herd. In contrast, Wedekind's new
morality, also designed for the rich, wanted men to evaluate
beauty above material possessions, which Wedekind thought
would bring them closer to God. Hetmann, a character in
Hidalla. voiced Wedekind's concept:
Wenn die Menschen dazu emporsteigen, die Schonheit
hoher zu achten, aIs Hab und Gut, aIs Leib und Leben,
dann sind die Menschen der Gottheit urn eine Stufe
naher, als wenn der Sieg uber die Erdenqual ihr hoch-
ster Preis istl (AW III, 237)
Nietzsche had taught that the will of man must be to
make a race of supermen— tJbermensch— and that this race
would embody the meaning and aim of the earth. As a result
of Nietzsche's influence, Wedekind adopted a desire to de
velop a "new society" of perfect, strong, and independent
people.
Nietzsche felt, too, that the hatred of our human or
"animal" nature came from the Christian ascetic ideal of
suffering, which was the will to annihilation, because suf
fering was ascribed to guilt. He said:
Die Sklaven-Moral ist wesentlich Niitzlichkeits-Moral.
69
Hier ist der Herd fur die Entstehung jenes beriihmten
Gegensatzes "gut" und "bose":— in's Bose wird die Macht
und Gefahrlichkeit hinein empfunden, eine gewisse Furcht-
barkeit, Feinheit und Starke, welche die Verachtung nicht
aufkommen lasst. Nach der Sklaven-Moral erregt also der
"Bose" Furchtj nach der Herren-Moral ist es gerade der
"Gute," der Furcht erregt und erregen will, wahrend der
"schlechte" Mensch als der verachtliche empfunden wird.
. . . Ein letzter Grundunterschied: das Verlangen nach
Freiheit, der Instinkt fur das Gluck und die Feinheiten
des Freiheits-Gefiihls gehort ebenso nothwendig zur
Sklaven-Moral und -Moralitat, als die Kunst und Schwarm-
erei in der Ehrfurcht, in der Hingebung das regelmassige
Symptom einer aristokr.atischen Denk- und Werthungsweise
ist. 3
Wedekind's concept of religion embraced no formal
theological doctrine. His views were based on Nietzsche's
pagan philosophy, with its apotheosis of life as an end in
itself and its frank cult of the natural impulses. Thus,
when Wedekind used the phrase, "Das Fleisch hat seinen
eigenen Geist," (the flesh has its own spirit), he really
meant that a healthy sensuality, free from any feeling of
guilt, was a "religion" in itself. Many of his works em
phasized the physical side of life— the senses, the flesh,
the appetites. His argument was that man could remain
happy only as long as love was naive, instinctive, and
3Nietzsches Werke. 20 vols. Vol. VII: Jenseits von
Gut und Bose. Zur Genealogie der Moral (Stuttgart, 1921),
pp. 242-243.
70
frankly physical.
Influenced by Nietzsche's vision of a new race of
supermen, Wedekind developed many minor variations of the
concepts noted above. In order to relate the concepts to
the artist's writing, the plots of four of his plays are
presented, and these in turn will be analyzed to discover
the applications of Wedekind's moral concepts.
Use in Dramas
Hidalla
A mixture of grotesque irony and tragedy produces an
uncanny effect in Hidalla. whose central figure is clearly
a self-portrait of the author. Karl Hetmann is a writer
with a social mission, that of enhancing the joy of living.
To realize this ambition, he founds the "Internationaler i
Verein zur Zuchtung von Rassenmenschen" (International So- j
ciety for the Breeding of Human Thoroughbreds). All the
members are eugenically certified and must pledge themselves:
to unlimited promiscuity within the society and must con
sider this to be a public service in the interests of the
race. A pathetic touch of Wedekind's irony lies in the facli
that the driving force behind the movement, Hetmann, is
71
4
physically deformed, a crxpple, and thus is excluded from
membership. The purpose of the Society is to create a new
morality, whose highest law is beauty. As Hetmann says:
Der Durst nach Schonheit ist ein nicht minder gottliches
Gesetz in uns als der Trieb zur Bekampfung der Erden-
quali . . . Unsere Moral fordert Opfer, wie sie noch
keine forderte. Die allgemeine Moral steht im Dienste
des hochsten menschlichen Gluckes, der Familie. Dieses
hochste menschliche Gluck fordern wir von den Mitglied-
ern unseres Bundes als erstes Opfer'. (AW III, 236)
Hetmann1s struggle is twofold: first, he rebels
against the world and wants to win human souls for his
ideals; and second, he opposes Rudolf Launhart, the enter
prising individual who makes a business out of Hetmann1s
ideals. Launhart has drawn up a contract with an important !
investor, Heinrich Gellinghausen. To achieve success as
quickly as possible, they must determine the proper cam
paign. When Hetmann asks Launhart to publish material for
the Society of Human Thoroughbreds, the latter senses imme- j
diately the monetary gain inherent in such a venture. Het
mann outlines the purpose of the organization, which is to
improve the race by the breeding of those most beautiful
I
4It is interesting to note that Wedekind had a lame
foot; this probably explains his admiration of strong men,
especially of the circus variety.
72
and accomplished, both physically and intellectually.
At the beginning of the second act Launhart's estab
lishment is already flourishing? the newspaper is doing
well, and the police have permitted the public meetings of
the International Society. Disagreement develops between
Launhart and Hetmann because Hetmann wants to win human
souls and Launhart wants to make money. The newspaper is
confiscated because, through Launhart's cooperation, one of
Hetmann's manuscripts falls into the hands of the police,
but a scandal is prevented through publicity and advertis
ing .
For a while Hetmann's ideas are successful, and many
want to join the organization. Although women flock around
him, he is not interested in them. Even the lovely Fanny
Kettler, who loves him, is rejected "out of principle," and
Hetmann accuses her of having a "dwarf-soul." He does not
want his belief in the nobility of soul destroyed by a
beautiful woman. In other words, Hetmann's concept of
beauty does not embrace the physical; it applies only to
the spiritual and the intellectual. He feels that Fanny,
the embodiment of physical beauty, is intellectually infer
ior to him and therefore does not understand his concept of
the "nobility of the soul."
73
Meanwhile, Launhart, who is promoting Hetmann's ideas
solely for financial gain, has incited Hetmann to issue a
manifesto which results in police prosecution; and Hetmann
sits in jail. When he is released, he continues to chal
lenge what he terms "the feudalism of love." This includes
"medieval superstitions" which result in ostracizing the
woman of easy virtue, the unmarried mother, and those de
manding virginity as a prerequisite for marriage. He claims
that the lack of freedom in love is the result of antiquated
education:
. . . die wie ein wildes Tier aus der menschlichen
Gemeinschaft hinausgehetzte Dirne; das zu korperlicher
und geistiger Kruppelhaftigkeit verurteilte, um sein
ganzes Liebesleben betrogene alte Madchen; und die zum
Zweck einer moglichst gunstigen Verheiratung gewahrte
Unberuhrtheit des jungen Weibes. Durch dieses Axiom
hoffte ich den Stolz des Weibes zu entflammen und zum !
Kampfgenossen zu gewinnen. Denn von Frauen solcher
Erkenntnis erhoffte ich, da mit Wohlleben und Sorg-
losigkeit einmal abgerechnet war, eine frenetische
Begeisterung fur mein Reich der Schonheit.— Die Rech-
nung war falschi (AW III, 274-275J
After his release from prison, Hetmann continues his
work, more determined than ever, and begins a large book
incorporating his ideas. He e:xplains to Fanny:
Seit ich zu denken begann, kampfe ich um Erhohung meines
Lebensgenusses' . Aber mir scheint, ich bin am Ende.
Nicht einmal Unterhaltung bietet die Welt mehrl
(AW III, 267)
74
The girl has fundamentally the same ideas and thoughts
as he has concerning unrestricted love. But, intending to
dedicate his thoughts and life to his work and thereby ad
vance his new morality, he cannot see the beauty which is
alive and waiting for him. As he expresses his desire for
separate moralities for the poor and the rich, he adds the
skepticism of the disillusioned individual:
Unzweifelhaft bedarf der Reiche, bei Wahrung seiner
Giiter, anspruchsvollerer Gesetze als der Arme. Durch
dieses Axiom hoffte ich den Stolz der begiiterten Mensch-
heit zu entflammen und zum Kampfgenossen zu gewinnen.
Jeder, so glaubte ich, dem sein Gluck es vergonnt, wird
das Wagnis, sich einer neuen Denkungsart anzuvertrauen,
dem Bewusstsein eines gesicherten Besitzes vorziehen.
Die Rechnung war falsch. Der Reiche hat die fur den
Armen erdachte Moral usurpiert und zieht grosseren j
Vorteil daraus als der Arme, fur den sie erdacht wurde.
Der Reiche setzt eher sein Leben fur seinen Reichtum
als seinen Reichtum fur sein Leben aufs Spiel. (AW III,
273-274)
Toward the end of the fourth act, Pietro Alessandro
Morosini, Grand Master of the International Society for the
Breeding of Human Thoroughbreds, and Mrs. Grant, an American
lady who is a member of the Society, discuss their coming
marriage. As members, they are not subject to the conven
tional laws of marriage, and every member has an inalien
able right to the services of the others. Suddenly, Moro
sini realizes that Hetmann's gospel of sexual freedom is
75
absurd, and that the idea of the Society is the work of a
madman. Morosini says to Mrs. Grant, "Wozu heiraten wir
uns, wenn die Gesetze der burgerlichen Gesellschaft aufge-
lost werden solleni . . . Der Mensch ist ja wahnsinnigl"
(AW III, 289).
While Hetmann is expounding his theories concerning
the new morality, Morosini rushes into the lecture hall to
expose him as an impostor and save humanity from Hetmann's
insane morality. The meeting ends in a riot, the police
restore order, and take Hetmann into custody. In one of
Wedekind's most cynical self-indictments, Morosini then
refers to Hetmann as a "Zwergriese" (dwarf-giant). He says:
Schweigen Siel Sie haben genug geredetl Jetzt rede
ich1 . Ich, Pietro Alessandro Morosini, wer.de dafiir sor-
gen, dass nicht ein Hauch von Ihrer Wahnsinnsmoral be-
stehen bleibt'. Ihnen sollte die ganze Schopfungspracht
dafiir biissen, dass Sie als Kriippel geboren sind1 . Weil
Sie zu schlecht sind fur andere Menschen, sollten andere
Menschen so schlecht werden wie Sie1 . Oh, wie schlau
haben Sie Ihre Moral ausgekliigeltI Zu schwachlich, um
mit anderen Mannern ehrlich um ein Weib zu kampfen, zu
eingebildet, um sich selbst um ein Weib zu bemiihen, woll-
ten Sie Ihre Person so hoch postieren, dass samtliche
Weiber kniefallig vor Ihnen nach Liebe jammern und jede
sich selig preist, wenn Sie Zwergriese sich ihrer er-
barmenl (AW III, 292)
Thus he criticizes Hetmann's self-pity, calls him a weak
ling, and claims that Hetmann's "insane morality" stems from
76
5
the fact that he was born a cripple. Because of his de
formity, Hetmann has an exalted opinion of himself and is
unwilling to compete for a woman's love on equal terms with
other men. Even worse, he is so egotistical that he expects
women to compete for him.
Toward the end of the fifth act Cotrelly, a circus
|
manager, appears and offers Hetmann a job in the circus as j
i
j
the clown, "dummer August." When Hetmann doubts his suita- j
bility for the role, the circus manager says that this is
proof of the "real artist1 ." Cotrelly knows that Hetmann
will be even a greater sensation than the chimpanzee who
sings the C-major scale, and says that he will need only to
act naturally to be a big attraction:
^Hans W. Rosenhaupt pointed out that many writers at
the turn of the century used criminal types as models in
literature. They also dramatized cripples, invalids, the
blind, drinkers, and vagabonds. Frequently authors iden
tified themselves with "social outcasts" and were sympa
thetic toward them. "Sehr oft,1 1 he remarked, "identifiziert
sich der Dichter mit dem Kruppel . . . der, wie andere Ge-
stalten aus der gleichen Zeit vom Leben schlecht behandelt
wird, wie Wedekind mit dem buckligen Karl Hetmann in 'Hi
dalla, 1 der in einer verfaulenden Zeit der einzige Voll-
mensch ist ..." See his Der deutsche Dichter um die Jahr-
hundertwende und seine Abgalostheit von der Gesellschaft
(Sprache und Dichtuna: Forschunaen zur Sprach- und Litera-
turwiss.enschaft. No. 66, ed. Harry Maync, S. Singer, and F.
Strich [Bern and Leipzig, 1939]), pp. 23-24.
77
Der dumme August fallt, wie Sie wissen, uber jedes
Hindernis, kommt uberall gerade im richtigen Moment
zu spat, will immer Leuten helfen, die es zehnmal
besser verstehen als er, and weiss vor allem nie,
weshalb das Publikum uber ihn lacht. (AW III, 304)
Cotrelly tells Hetmann that he will not need to audition
for the job, and since the ape receives 400 marks for each
performance, Hetmann will certainly be worth 500. At this
point Hetmann says, "Sollte ich aber auch zum dummen August
zu dumm sein. . . ."to which Cotrelly sarcastically re
plies, "Unsinnl Dafiir kann man nicht dumm genug seinl"
(AW III, 305). Realizing the futility of his fight, Het
mann, disillusioned and hurt, accepts the offer, leaves the
room, and hangs himself.
Tod und Teufel
Wedekind’s one-act play, Tod und Teufel, released in
1905, may best be described as a satirical drama. Here the
author's role is less important to the plot, but he appar
ently utilizes various characters to express his views on
morality and on life.
An angry social worker, Elfriede von Malchus, has the
role of a reformer, and, due to sexual repression, she
rebels against sexual pleasure. The play takes place in a
house of prostitution, and Elfriede, who is a member of an
78
organization called "Internationaler Verein zur Bekampfung
des Madchenhandels" (International Society for the Fight
against White Slavery), comes to ask Casti Piani, the white
slave dealer, to release a seventeen-year-old servant girl,
Lisiska, from this house.
Casti Piani calls Elfriede an inexperienced old maid,
accuses her of possessing only weak sensual feelings, and
claims that her frustration has caused her to enter this
Society. He then confesses that the "storms of life" have
long ago offered him nothing but horrible solitude. He has
experienced life to the fullest, has become hardened, and
is now bored with his bourgeois existence. He clings to
the business of white slavery because he feels that this is
the only means of happiness left to him. In a frank and
cynical dialogue he opposes Elfriede's moral point of view.
She realizes that Casti Piani has not engaged Lisiska be
cause of his own unsatisfied sensuality; instead, he wants
to use her in his profitable white-slave business. He
argues that every trade is immoral:
Ein gutes GeschaftL Selbstverstandlich1 Aber gute
Geschafte beruhen auf beiderseitigem Vorteil'. Andere
Geschafte als gute mache ich uberhaupt nicht. Jedes
andere Geschaft ist unmoralischi— Oder glauben Sie
vielleicht, der Liebesmarkt ist fur das Weib ein
schlechtes Geschaft? (AW IV, 12)
79
He justifies his profession by blaming the bourgeois
society which, he maintains, curbs women's freedom by making
it scandalous to love or to bear children out of wedlock.
His kind has only one purpose in mind, and that is to break
down Puritan prejudice. At this point, he makes the start
ling remark that whoever fights for a woman's rights must
first intercede in favor of the natural law of woman "to be
able to sell herself for the highest possible price" (AW
IV, 13).
Overcome by these revolutionary arguments, Elfriede
suddenly throws herself at the feet of the man she had come
to denounce and implores him to marry her, calling him a
great and noble person. He does not want Elfriede's love
J
1
as a sacrifice and maintains that marriage is slavery, a |
I
form of bondage to be fought and vanquished. He accuses
her of lacking the abandon and the tenderness that come with
i
the joyous innocence of the true lover, and finally confes
ses that his cynicism is the result of his unhappy childhood
experiences,
When her pleas fail to move Casti Piani, she mentions
60,000 marks which they will inherit eventually from her
parents. The possibility of materialistic gain does not
sway him either. Instead, he accuses her of a lack of
80
"true" love and understanding, and he adds insultingly:
Sie benehmen sich wie der Esel, der den Schosshund
spielen will. Ihre Hande tun mir weh'. Das kommt nicht
etwa daher, dass sie nichts gelernt haben. Das kommt,
weil Sie dem geknechteten Liebesleben der burgerlichen
Gesellschaft entstammen'. Sie haben keine Rasse im Leib.
(AW IV, 24)
Thus he names two reasons for her narrow-minded views on
i
love and marriage: her bourgeois existence and the fact
that she does not belong to the "superior" race. Finally
enraged, Elfriede resents his criticism, particularly since
it is made in a brothel. He not only repeats his accusa
tions but praises the prostitutes and their disreputable
trade. Although Elfriede does not possess the attributes
i
|
of a prostitute, she says she is willing to learn, but Casti
Piani rejects her offer:
Lassen Sie Ihre fiirchterliche Hand von dem einzigen
gottlichen Lichtstrahl, der die schauerliche Nacht
unseres martervollen Erdendaseins durchdringti (AW
IV, 25)
Casti Piani and Elfriede hide behind an ivy-covered
wall in order to listen to the love-making between a pas
sionate youth and Lisiska, Elfriede's servant girl whom she
had come to reclaim. As the scene unfolds, Lisiska, who
had voluntarily entered upon a career of prostitution after
having learned of free love from studying Elfriede's books
81
and articles, describes the anguish of love rather than its
joys. She tells the youth that instead of experiencing sen
sual lust, for her it is work— a job to be done: "Dass
selbst in diesem Hause kein Frieden/ Den Sinnen beschieden"
(AW IV, 30). Lisiska does not ask the youth for love, but
wants to be beaten:
Im Gegenteil1 . Die Lust, das Ungeheuer,
Tobt ewig ungezahmt in dieser Brustl
Meinen Sie, ich Teufelsbraten
Ware je in dies Haus geraten,
Wenn von des Herzens grasslichem Klopfen
Freude mich konnte befrein?
Freude zerstiebt, ein Tropfen
Auf heissem Stein1 .
Und die Wollust, ungestillt,
Ein hungerndes Jammerbild
Stiirzt sich, dass sie den Tod finde,
In alle Abgrundel (AW IV, 28)
She again asks for blows, "Wer mich mitleidlos zerblaut, den
acht ich am grossten" (AW IV, 29)
Elfriede and Casti Piani are overwhelmed to find that
this revelation is the exact opposite from what they had
imagined for years. There is no question of joy in this
house; it is the same here as everywhere in life, "Nein, es
war nur der hollische Trieb,/ Aus dem an Freude nichts ubrig
blieb" (AW IV, 31). Elfriede reproaches herself because she
now realizes that life in this house is not "sensual pleas
ure" but self-sacrifice, "gliihendes Martyrerturn." Casti
82
Piani is stunned because the sensual enjoyment in which he
believed is nothing more than "hollische Menschenschlacht-
■ „6
erex.
Suddenly Elfriede is overcome by a masochistic desire
to die the martyr's death, to find destruction in sensual
i
pleasure. When she asks Casti Piani to sell her to a house
of prostitution, he refuses, and when she offers him her
first night of love, he is utterly disgusted with everything
he has previously extolled and shoots himself. His conclu
sion is that lust is horrible, a selfish imperious instinct
that combines both repulsion and attraction, and that to the
end it involves a duel between the sexes.
Der Marquis von Keith
7
The theme of Der Marquis von Keith, written and pro
duced between 1898 and 1900, is "the struggle with life
^Fechter, pp. 62-63.
^Many critics believe that, except for Erdaeist. this
play is Wedekind's most artistically mature drama. This
judgment is questioned by other writers, but Wedekind must
have had a similar opinion, particularly with reference to
the Keith-character. In the brief commentary to his works,
Was ich mir dabei dachte. he stated that Keith was the best
role he had written. He would never again attempt to write
such a role because there were no actors who could play the
part. See GW IX, 429.
;itself." In support of Wedekind's attack on middle-class
morality, the conflicting points of view are expressed by
the drama's two opponents, the Marquis von Keith and his
friend, Ernst Scholz. Keith is a scoundrel and swindler,
and refers to his own origin thus:
’ Ich bin Bastard. Mein Vater war ein geistig sehr
hochstehender Mensch, besonders was Mathematik und so
■ exakte Dinge betrifft, und meine Mutter war Zigeunerin.
j (AW III, 12)
iHe calls himself "die Kreuzung von Philosoph und Pferdedieb"
8
: (AW III, 12). He belongs to the Philistine class, is lack
ing in the social graces, and wants to elevate his position
in society, no matter what the cost. As the first step to
a higher social status, he assumes a title of nobility. In
his attempt to acquire wealth, he collects vast sums for a
fraudulent project, to build a "Feenpalast" ("Palace of
Pleasure") in order to enrich the life of the masses. Like
Hetmann in Hidalla. Keith is endowed with superior intelli
gence: with utter recklessness, he subjects men and women
^Liselotte Weber gave a comprehensive treatment to
Keith as a character-type, adventurer, and confidence man.
She drew a comparison between him and other character-types
in Wedekind's works. Cf. "Prank Wedekind. Der Marquis von
Keith. Der Abenteuerer in dramatischer Gestaltung," unpub
lished Ph.D. dissertation (University of Kiel, 1934).
84
(alike to his will. His philosophy of life is one of pure
!
i
cynicism. His ethical and commercial creed is "Siinde ist
eine mythologische Bezeichnung fiir schlechte Geschafte (AW
IlII, 34)? and he claims: "das glanzendste Geschaft in
;dieser Welt ist die Moral" (AW III, 9.8) .
!
Scholz, who was born as Count Trautenau, has assumed a
i
middle-class name in order to be closer to "normal" life.
i
i
[While Keith feels excluded from society but wants to belong
[to it, Scholz feels excluded from humanity and wants to be
i
i
■a part of it. He is, therefore, no longer interested in
leading a life of pleasure and luxury but prefers the hap
piness of the "ordinary" person. He explains to Keith:
Was geniesse ich denni Der Freudentaumel,. in dem
ich schwelge, lasst mich zwischen mir und einem Barbier-
gesellen keinen Unterschied mehr erkennen. Allerdings
habe ich fiir Rubens und Richard Wagner schwarmen gelernt.
Das Ungliick, das friiher mein Mitleid erregte, ist mir
durch seine Hasslichkeit schon beinahe unausstehlich.
Um so andachtiger bewundere ich dafiir die Kunstleist-
ungen von Tanzerinnen und Akrobatinnen.— Ware ich bei
alledem aber nur um einen Schritt weiteri Meines Geldes
wegen lasst man mich allenfalls fiir einen Menschen gel-
ten. Sobald ich es sein mochte, stosse ich mit meiner
Stirn gegen unsichtbare Mauern an! (AW III, 56)
Keith is an adventurer who wants to gain recognition
and wealth by any means. Molly Griesinger, who loves him,
will sacrifice everything for his happiness if he will
85
agree to live in her small hometown, Biickeburg. He does
not like the life of a small town and cannot tolerate her
affection, which he describes as "a genuine narrow-minded
love." Despite his indifference toward her, he seems com
pletely confident of her loyalty. Molly realizes that Keith
will remain with her only as long as he can use her in his
promotional scheme. But when his success seems assured,
she destroys it by killing herself.
Keith's superior attitude toward Molly and her bour
geois life is clearly evident in the conversation with Anna
Huber, who has assumed the title of the Countess Werdenfels:
Mein Verbrechen an ihr besteht darin, dass sie, seit wir
uns kennen, nie ein boses Wort von mir gehort hat. Sie j
verzehrt sich vor Sehnsucht nach ihrer kleinburgerlichen j
Welt, in der man, Stirn gegen Stirn geschmiedet, sich j
duckt und schuftet und sich liebt*. Kein freier Blick, j
kein freier Atemzug'. Nichts als LiebeL Mbglichst viel
und von der gewohnlichsten Sorte! (AW III, 103)
Whenever Anna asks if he has heard any information about
Molly's disappearance, Keith disregards the question and
changes the subject. He tells Anna,
Ich kann getrost darauf bauen, dass sie, wenn mir
das Haus uber dem Kopf zusammengekracht ist, reumutig
lachelnd zuruckkommt und sagt: "Ich will es nicht
wieder tun." (AW III, 103)
Meanwhile, Keith trains Anna to be a "Lebenskiinstler"
86
like himself, and she learns her lesson well. When Keith's
scheme misfires, she abandons him, and his victims are
horrified by the discovery that their benefactor is a
swindler. They call him to account and expose the fraud.
Keith’s impression is that this deception is part of life's
joke and, after all, life is a Hell of a joke (ein hollisch-
er Spass). Facing arrest, he lifts his revolver to shoot
himself.
Just then Consul Casimir arrives. Casimir is the in
dustrialist to whom Anna has turned when she left Keith,
and also he has replaced Keith as the director of the "Feen-
palast." He offers Keith 10,000 marks on the condition that
I
he leave Munchen at once. Keith weighs the pistol and the !
money in his hands and finally takes his leave with the j
|
cynical comment, "Das Leben ist eine Rutschbahn" (AW III, j
|
114). Life is a roller coaster that goes up and down, he j
i
I
i
says, and a scoundrel always has the chance of coming out
on top.
Keith’s friend, Scholz, has been unsuccessful in his
attempt to become an epicure and once again feels that he j
must face the depressive and frantic life from which he
wanted to escape. He implores Keith to go with him to the
insane asylum where they will be protected from the bitter
87
i
fate of the world:
Komm mit mir, dann hist du geborgen. Wir sind zu-
sammen aufgewachsen? ich sehe nicht ein, warum wir nicht
auch das Ende gemeinsam erwarten sollen. Die burger-
liche Gesellschaft urteilt dich als Verbrecher ab und
unterwirft dich alien unmenschlichen mittelalterlichen
Martern. (AW III, 110)
Keith refuses to accompany him, and Scholz enters the sani-
!
tarium alone.
Die Zensur
Wedekind's one-act play, Die Zensur. is his reply to
the critics who have accused him of immorality. The central
i
l
figure, Buridan— the name suggesting Puritan— is, obviously,)
i
Wedekind, and he symbolizes the artist's wavering between j
animal sensuality on the one hand and spirituality on the j
other.
I
i
Buridan has sought inspiration in Kadidja, his mis- |
i
i
tress, but she cannot understand his attempt to create a j
work that will unite soul and body. When his tragedy, Die
Biichse der Pandora, is prohibited, he protests that he has
never presented the good as bad, and vice versa. Moreover,
I
he has never misrepresented the consequences of a crime. Hd
has never despised men and he believes in God and immortal
ity. He feels that he should not be condemned because he
88
has shown reality and evil for what they are, objectionable
I
and ugly.
Buridan is unsuccessful in restoring harmony between
i
beauty and spirit. He believes that a lack of religious I
i
spirit and true reverence in the world have destroyed this
harmony.
i
I
i
I
Ich sehe seit Jahren nicht ein, warum die Verehrung, j
die wir fiir die ewigen Weltgesetze hegen, und die Ver- j
ehrung, die wir schonen Farben, schonen Korpern, der
ganzen Schopfungspracht entgegenbringen, warum sich
diese Gefiihle ewig in den Haaren liegen sollenDas
war friiher anders, als sich die Anbetung des Geistes |
mit der Verehrung menschlicher Schonheit unter demsel-
ben Tempeldach zusammenfanden. Warum soil das nicht
wieder anders werden? Der Streit kommt nur daher, dass
wir die erhabene Schonheit geistiger Gesetzmassigkeit
so wenig wiirdigen, wie wir die unerbittliche Gesetz- j
massigkeit korperlicher Schonheit einsehen. . . . Die
Freude am Geist, die Ehrerbietung vor der Erscheinungs-
welt, das sind die beiden Elemente, die ich, bevor ich
sterbe, noch miteinander aussohnen mochte. (AW IV,
143-144) |
i
i
i
j
The second scene of the play is made up of the long j
dialogue between Buridan and Dr. Prantl, secretary to the j
Confessor of His Majesty. Dr. Prantl, who represents the I
censorship authority of the State, is under the erroneous j
i
l
impression that the poet wants to marry Kadidja, his "artis
tic partner," and that it is to be a church ceremony. They
have a long discussion concerning Buridan's conflict with
public morality. Dr. Prantl maintains that the artist's
89
plays have had a harmful effect on the moral sensibilities
of the public, that he lacks seriousness of purpose, that
he enjoys the suffering of people, and that he ridicules
the divine. Dr. Prantl makes the accusation that Buridan
wants to combine the church and the brothel in a future
socialistic state (AW IV, 158-159).
Buridan does not believe that the drama should only
entertain and teach moral lessons. His idea is that drama
should reflect the eternal laws of the universe and serious
ly reproduce the inexorable consequences of human actions.
He insists that the eternal laws of the universe are the
same principles which he strives for in his plays:
Ich verstehe unter ewiger Gesetzmassigkeit dasselbe,
was der Evangelist Johannes den Logos nennt. Ich ver
stehe darunter dasselbe, was die gesamte Christenheit
als Heiligen Geist anbetet. (AW IV, 150)
Buridan claims that religion is an important factor in j
j
his new social morality, objects to Dr. Prantl's insinuation!
that he lacks religious faith, and says that, on the con
trary, religion is to him the most important thing in life
and art. He contends, "Ich habe mein halbes Leben lang ohne
Kunst gelebt. Ohne Religion konnte ich nicht eine Minute
leben" (AW IV, 158). He is envious of Dr. Prantl's position
of being able to serve actively the cause of religion
90
because he, Buridan, believes that all beauty and all joy ir
the world lose their meaning without religion. His most
ardent desire is reconciliation with the church:
Ich wiisste auch nichts, was mir in dieser Welt so lieb
ware, dass ich es nicht kalten Blutes opferte, wenn
mich das Opfer mit dem, was ich als Hochstes, als
Ewiges anbete, aussehnen konnte. (AW IV, 155-156)
Buridan's religion, to which he has devoted all his
life, is one of beauty and holiness:
Die Wiedervereinigung von Heiligkeit und Schonheit als
gottliches Idol glaubiger Andacht, das ist das Ziel,
dem ich mein Leben opfere, dem ich seit friihster Kind-
heit zustrebe. (AW IV, 157)
Another difference in Buridan's and Dr. Prantl's con-
i
cepts of religion is that the former's is based upon "Ver- !
i
nunft," whereas the latter's is based upon "Faith." Buridaii
disagrees with Dr. Prantl1s accusation of "Lieblosigkeit" j
I
and maintains that human goodness is the highest product of
his kind of religion.
Ich kenne keinen heiligeren Besitz in dieser Welt als
den Besitz an geliebten MenschenSo wahr wie ich keine
hohere Gottheit anerkennen kann als die hochste Entfal-
tung der uns offenbarten Vernunft— schon aus dem ein- j
zigen Grunde, weil das hochste, das edelste Ergebnis
der uns offenbarten Vernunft die menschliche Giite ist,
wahrend Sie mit aller erdenklichen Herzensgiite nie dazu
gelangen, sich Vernunft zu erkampfeni (AW IV, 158)
91
Hence Dr. Prantl, whose religion is based upon a transcen
dental God, cannot understand Buridan's feeling; and the
inopportune appearance of Buridan's mistress, Kadidja, con
vinces Prantl that Buridan is irreverent. He refers to her
as "der Feind! der Versucherl— die Schlange des Paradies-
esl" (AW IV, 160). Prantl believes that Buridan has planned
her arrival at this precise moment in order to embarrass
him. Now he is sure that Buridan is insincere in his ideals
and convictions.
Es fallt mir so wenig ein, Ihrer zu spotten, wie ich
mich je dazu verleiten lassen werde, Sie ernst zu nehmen.
Sie spotten eines jeden, der Sie ernst nimmt. Und dem
ersten, der Ihrer spottet, zerschmettern Sie wenn mog-
lich die Schlafen. Vielleicht ist Ihnen aber doch das
Gebot bekannt: "Du sollst Gott nicht versuchenl" Sie
werden sich wohl noch einmal davon iiberzeugen, dass kein
Sterblicher, und stehe er noch so selbstherrlich in der
Welt, ungestraft die ewige Allmacht versucht. (AW IV, j
161) I
After this, Prantl leaves Buridan but Kadidja remains, j
and this seems to have a symbolic significance. As Fechter j
i
states, "Der Geist geht— das Sinnliche bleibt" (p. 107). J
Kadidja finally throws herself from the balcony, and Buridanj
realizes that he has been rejected by both the spiritual and
the normal world. He cries out, "Er lasst seiner nicht
spotten1— Er lasst sich nicht versuchenl— 0 Gotti— 0 Gott,
wie unergrundlich bist du" (AW IV, 168).
92
Analysis of Morality Concepts
It was Paul Fechter who pointed out that Wedekind had
sagaciously anticipated coming developments long before they
became general reality. Wedekind had surmised years in
advance that the turn of the century would bring about a
change in literary emphasis. Added to this was his strong
sense of doubt and insecurity— which was felt to some extent
by everyone— as the century drew to its close. A reconsid
eration of values and traditional idealism was occurring
9
throughout Germany.
i
Wedekind's personal change was undoubtedly in part due
to his own inner maturity and disillusionment, but it was
just as undoubtedly due to the people with whom he associa
ted and to their influences on him. Nietzsche’s vast and
important influence has already been noted. Then, too, as
an impressionable young man Wedekind had associated with
circus people, comedians, artists, and confidence men in
the large cities of Europe. This Bohemian life had held a
special attraction for him, and he had been eager to accept
I
^Das europ_aische Drama: Geist und Kultur im Spiegel
des Theaters. Vol. II: Vom Naturalismus zum Expressionis-
mus (Mannheim, 1957), p. 195.
93
these friends and use them for roles in his plays. An
example of the powerful attraction of people on Wedekind
occurred while he was visiting in Paris in June, 1894.
J
There Wedekind had met a Danish adventurer and confidence
man, Willi Gretor. Gretor was unusually talented as a
painter, sculptor, and writer, and he became one of the
i
most enterprising art counterfeiters and art dealers of all
time. He copied Michelangelo's and Mantegna's works with
such skill that the greatest art connoisseurs did not doubt
their authenticity; and he obtained a fortune by means of
these ingenious forgeries. Wedekind was attracted by Gretor
because he considered Gretor as one of those full-blooded
i
persons who seek their own way of life "outside" bourgeois
society. Gretor became Wedekind's patron and idol."^ |
!
Heuser was one of those who noted the changes which
occurred in Wedekind. He referred to a picture of Wedekind
I
dating back to 1889, which was very different from that of
his later years. He maintained that Wedekind had at that
time gone through the extreme of cynicism and pessimism, as
■^For additional information concerning the important
influence that his Parisian friends had on Wedekind, see
Herbert Gunther, "Paris als Erlebnis: Frank Wedekind und
Paris," Antares. I, No. 5 (1952-1953), 3-8.
94
was indicated by the three pantomimes discovered by Kut-
scher.^ But even then, according to Heuser, Wedekind had
a ruthless impulse to speak the truth as he saw it, a loath
ing of cheap sentimentality and emotionalism, of Philistine
morality and of moral compromises. These were the emotions
which led him to deny the very existence of morals and of
ideals. He had seen the contradictions of life and of
. ... .. 12
civilization. i
i
I
In Ludwig Marcuse's opinion, the moralist Wedekind was
a pedagogue and a dialectician. A good share of his work
consisted of politics, rationalism, discussion, and trea
tise. But the moral, revolutionary Wedekind destroyed be-
j
liefs, false truths, conventional experiences, in order to j
i
!
arrive at genuine experiences. "Seine Form der Destruk- j
]
tion," concluded Marcuse, "ist das Paradox. Nur die Deutungr
des Paradoxes als polemische Pointe trifft seine Wahr-
heit."13
I
-^Frank Wedekind, Das Wedekindbuch. p. 194.
•^"Personal and Literary Relations of Hauptmann and
Wedekind," Modern Language Notes. XXXVI (1921), 397.
l^Ludwig Marcuse, ed., "Das expressionistische Drama,"
Literatur-Geschichte der Gegenwart (Berlin, Leipzig, Wien,
Bern, 1925), II, 145.
95
Using this brief background of some of the influences
on Wedekind, it is pertinent to try to analyze ways in which
the artist's new morality found its place in his dramatic
works.
Emancipation of the flesh
Earlier in this chapter it was pointed out that Wede- {
kind believed that if he could establish the "emancipation
of the flesh" as the basis of a new moral code, it would
become the cure for all of the social evils of his time.
His cult was the morality of beauty, according to his own
analysis.
But it is interesting to note that as the theme of the
emancipation of the flesh developed, Wedekind apparently
instinctively rejected it. Time and again in his plays,
those who had been the primary spokesmen for this concept
became, as the play ended, the broken or defeated tragic
figures.
Hidalla shows the utter disillusionment and the bitter
irony of the fanatic idealist, fighting for a morality of
beauty, and being exploited by a materialistic, money-mad
society. Completely unsuccessful in his reform program,
Hetmann wished only to retain his freedom.
96
Obsessed as he was throughout his works with lust,
eroticism, sensuality, and sex, it is difficult to reconcile:
Wedekind's expressed concern over the emancipation of the
flesh which is to result in a new morality based on beauty
with the words, attitudes, and actions of his principal
characters. As was noted in Tod und Teufel. Elfriede and
Casti Piani argue long and bitterly over the merits of his
|
work as white slave trader. Yet, when Lisiska confesses
that her work of prostitution is an unhappy and arduous job,
Casti Piani suddenly realizes that lust is repulsive and
i
shoots himself. And Elfriede wants to die a martyr's death
of self-destruction in sensual pleasure.
In Die Zensur Wedekind presumably attempted to recon
cile this conflict and justify his morality of beauty. In
doing so, the interminable arguments of Buridan and Dr.
Prantl spell out in great detail the different vievqpoints.
Yet, after presenting both sides of the argument, during
which Buridan apparently wins in his defense of his con
cepts, he suddenly loses when his lover, Kadidja, takes her
own li fe.
At the end of Hida11a the fanatic idealist Hetmann has
few friends and even those he denies. He has only one wish,
that is, to remain completely alone in the world. Keith
97
also ends abandoned and destitute? all his plans and pro
jects have failed, all his friends and women have left him,
and lonely stands the "Kreuzung von Philosoph und Pferde-
dieb" (AW III, 12).
In Der Marquis von Keith, as we have seen, Scholz, the
I
clever moralist, has lost his personal battle for the eman
cipation of the flesh in his search for the morality of
|
beauty and has decided to escape reality by living out his !
life in an insane asylum. When Keith refuses to go with
him, he goes alone.
In an essay, "Eine Szene von Wedekind" (1914), Thomas
Mann discussed Der Marquis von Keith, which he had seen onlyj
I
once, years before, at the Schauspielhaus in Munich. Since |
that time it became "my scene," he said, and, in his opin- j
i
!
ion, nothing in his own work surpassed it. Nothing had J
I
i
affected him as much as this scene, and he thought of it ;
i
especially when he thought of Wedekind. He reported that j
I
he had nodded contentedly when Wedekind confessed to him onej
i
j
evening that he had written the play for the sake of this !
scene. Mann commented;
i
i
Nochmals, es ist eine ungeheuerliche Szene. In einem j
nichtssagenden modernen Zimmer wechseln zwei Manner in !
burgerlicher Kleidung kurze und glasklare Repliken. Aber
dahinter spukt und lockt ein Mysterium. Es ist das
98
Mysterium der Abdankung. Wer es fassen kann, der fasse
Beauty of animal instincts
This is, of course, a variation on the emancipation of
the flesh concept. Lulu, as noted previously, was one of
Wedekind's outstanding proponents of the fulfillment of the
beauty inherent in lust. For him, love was lust pure and
simple, and "lust was life." Bithell described this cosmic
urge as holy because it serves the morality of beauty:
. . . regeneration of the race should come from this
love— resistless and therefore mystical— of the beauti
ful body of soulless woman. Even a prostitute is di
vine, for she is flesh; copulation in a brothel is, in
the sulphurous light of Wedekind's hallucinations, a
unio mvstica. (p. 55)
This theme is particularly evident in the artist-figure
15
of the drama Tod und Teufel, subtitled Totentanz. Tod und
Teufel is ranked thematically with Friihlings Erwachen and
the Lulu-tragedy, and it belongs to them not only because
- * - ^Altes und Neues (Frankfurt am Main, 1953), pp. 31-
33.
■*-^When Wedekind wrote this work, he considered several
other titles: Der Stachel des Todes. Hakeldama (Heb., Matt.
XXVII:8), Mephistos Tod, and Meuhistos Todeskampf. The
motto of the play refers to the New Testament, Book of St.
Matthew, XXI:31: "Verily I say unto you that the harlots
go into the kingdom of God before you."
99
the Marquis Casti Piani of Die Biichse der Pandora is the
hero of Tod und Teufel, but also because it contains the sum
of Wedekind's observations concerning instinct, lust, and
sexuality. It has been stated that his views are presented
in such a negative way that, by comparison, Erdaeist and
Die Biichse der Pandora almost have an optimistic effect.
Casti Piani's attitude toward life is one of deep pessimism,
as he explains to Elfriede von Malchus:
Das menschliche Leben ist zehnfacher Tod vor dem
Todei Nicht nur fur mich. Fur Siel Fur alles, was
Atem holtl Fur den einfachen Menschen besteht das
Leben aus Schmerzen, Leiden und Qualen, die sein Korper
erduldet. Und ringt sich der Mensch zu hoherem Sein
empor, in der Hoffnung, den Qualen des Korpers zu !
entrinnen, dann besteht das Leben fur ihn aus Schmerzen, j
Leiden und Qualen, die seine Seele erduldet, und gegen
die die Qualen des Korpers Wohltaten waren. (AW IV, 23)
p
[
Casti Piani maintains that "sensual enjoyment" is the |
only ray of light in the gloom of our earthly life. He
refers to sensuality as "die Himmelsblume" (the heavenly
flower):
Das ist der Sinnengenuss1 mein gnadiges FrauleinI
Der sonnige, lachende Sinnengenuss! Der Sinnengenuss
ist der Lichtstrahl, die Himmelsblume, weil er das ein-
zige ungetriibte Gluck, die einzige reine, lautere Freude
ist, die das Erdendasein uns bietet. Glauben Sie mir,
dass mich seit einem halben Jahrhundert nichts mehr in
dieser Welt zuruckhalt, als die selbstlose Anbetung
dieses einzigen aus voller Kehle auflachenden Gluckes,
das im Sinnengenuss den Menschen fur alie Qualen des
100
Daseins entschadigt(AW IV, 26)
Later, however, Wedekind freely admits that even such joy
may prove delusive.
Beauty above materialism
Despite his belief that the upper class was more im
portant than the middle or lower classes, and his high re- !
j
gard for success and for superior men and women, Wedekind
could never fully accept Nietzsche's paganism. Beauty, for
Wedekind, was an end and the aim of existence.
While Wedekind was dramatizing his concepts in Germany,
at the same time, the statesman and writer, Walther Rathe-
nau, was preaching against the increasing mechanization of j
the world and pleading for a return to spiritual ideals.
i
Both of these authors felt that much of the idealism tradi
tional with the German people had grown far too material- j
istic. !
j
Wedekind attempted to justify this concept in a number
of his plays. While his instinct for his new code of moral
ity may have been valid, his method of presenting his ideas j
i
was sufficiently confusing so that no clear picture of the
concept was apparent. Hida11a, for example, placed Wedekind
as Hetmann in juxtaposition with Launhart. Hetmann stood
101
for idealism and Launhart stood for materialism. Curiously
enough, the author-artist loses— Hetmann expounded his
theories concerning the new morality and was imprisoned as
a result, then was accused of being insane, later was of
fered a job in a circus where he was in a status only
slightly above that of a chimpanzee, and in the end hanged
himself.
In Tod und Teufel, the characterization indicates a
dual personality in Casti Piani, a personality that is con
fusing to the reader. He earns his living as a white slave
trader, and yet he takes a stand against materialistic
i
values. We know that he has chosen this "profession" be
cause he is a fanatical idealist of sensuality. What is j
difficult to determine is whether Wedekind wants the reader
to take Casti Piani seriously. While the white slave dealer
is undoubtedly dedicated to his trade, he fails to make his
theorizing monologues convincing. Instead, his reasoning
seems illogical, and the more he develops his theory, the
more ludicrous his ideal becomes. It is not difficult to |
j
!
imagine that the author shocked the public of his day? the !
same arguments in our present society would not have the
same effect but would seem absurd.
In Per Marquis, von Keith, statements as "sin is a
102
mythological term for bad business" and "morality is the
best business in this world" eventually caused many critics
to question Wedekind's own concept of morality. By this he
means that "sin" and "morality" are just words and should
not be taken seriously. Whether or not an act is sinful
merely depends upon the individual's concept of the term
and the measure of success he has realized. Also, what is
!
regarded as sinful or immoral on one level of society may
not be considered as such on other social levels.
This same thought exists, to a great extent, in our
modern materialistic world. The idea may be expressed by
certain present-day paraphrases, such as: "The end justi
fies the means," "One cannot be too honest and be a success
ful businessman," and "It is not a crime to cheat one's
fellowmen. It is only a crime if one is apprehended." !
The same theme governed the plot of Der Marcruis von
Keith, where Keith and his antagonist, Scholz, argue the
aspects of their views on morality. Keith explains to
Scholz:
I
. . . Das einzig richtige Mittel, seine Mitmenschen j
auszunutzen, besteht darin, dass man sie bei ihren
guten Seiten nimmt. Darin liegt die Kunst, geliebt
zu werden, die Kunst, recht zu behalten. Je ergiebiger
Sie Ihre Mitmenschen iibervorteilen, urn so gewissen-
hafter mussen Sie darauf achten, dass Sie das Recht
103
auf Ihrer Seite haben. Suchen Sie Ihren Nutzen niemals
im Nachteil eines tuchtigen Menschen, sondern immer nur
im Nachteil von Schurken und Dummkopfen. (AW III, 97)
But, once again, Wedekind's expressed concepts differed
from his application of them in his plays. Even though he
wrote himself into many of his dramas and put his concepts
into his dramatic self-characterization, the outcome was
usually tragedy, defeat, and a concomitant loss of accep
tance of the points he had been trying to make. Had he
really felt strongly that he was right in the new morality
he was attempting to foster, it seems rather incomprehen- j
I
sible that the "voice" expounding these ideals was eventu-
i
i
ally ridiculed, rejected, and destroyed in so many of his j
I
I
i
plays. |
Dual morality |
Nietzsche's influence on Wedekind was nowhere more pro
nounced than his ideal of a race of supermen. Wedekind ob- j -
viously was enchanted with the concept, and utilized it more
than once, believing that there should develop a dual moral-
i
ity— one morality for the rich and a second morality for the!
poor.
Hidalla* s main story line had to do with the develop
ment and publicizing of the International Society for the
104
Breeding of Human Thoroughbreds, and Tod und Teufel's with
the International Society for the Fight against White Sla
very. In this manner Wedekind made it possible for the
artist-author to argue both sides. Inasmuch as he took the
role himself of the exponent of one side, he could write
into the words of his antagonist the opposing viewpoint.
This same basic plot set-up occurred too in Der Marquis von
Keith where the conflicting opinions concerning morality
are expressed by Keith and his friend, Scholz.
Because Wedekind's ideal was to enhance the joy of
living for privileged individuals, he felt that his twofold
or dual morality was a step in that direction. Yet it would!
i
(
also appear from Der Marquis von Keith that Wedekind's phi1-1
osophy of life was one of pessimism, as evident from his j
remarks about middle-class society and its morality. The |
same is true of such statements as: each person must seek
his own good; society is but the result of the play of in
dividualistic forces; religion itself is no more than a
veiled egoism, a symbolic device for expressing love for
one’s self. It should be realized, however, that the writer
is presenting a picture of his own soul; in fact, the dis
cussions between Keith and Scholz reveal the basic duality
in Wedekind himself. Since he portrays the impostor with
105
such patent admiration, it must be assumed that Wedekind's
scorn was not directed at Keith. Rather, it was aimed at a
society which succumbed to his spell and whose moral stan
dards were not better than his own.
Spiritual concept
It was pointed out that Wedekind's concept of religion
was based on Nietzsche's pagan philosophy, and that Wedekinc!
embraced no formal religious or theological doctrine. Paul
Fechter gave some interesting comments concerning the stronc
Nietzschean influence, particularly in Hidalla. He felt
that the struggle against Christian morality had become the
"literary fashion" of the time;
i
Die Moral der Schonheit fur die Reichen klingt auf der
einen Seite wie ein gewandelter Nachhall von Einwirk-
ungen Nietzsches; die Bekampfung der christlichen Moral
war zum wenigsten literarische Zeitmode geworden, und
die neue Moral der Starken, der blonden Bestie konnte
leicht die asthetische Wendung zur Schonheit nehmen,
wie sie es bei Maeterlinck getan hatte.^
In his works Wedekind proclaimed his ideal of strength
and beauty and felt that this would lead to a return to
spiritual values;
^ Das europaische DramSj II, 195.
106
Der Verkunder der neuen Moral wird hier zum wirklichen
Moralisten, indem er hinter die eigenen Thesen nicht
nur das Fragezeichen der Ironie setzt, den Armen, der
nichts hat, die Moral fur die Reichen, den Hasslichen
das Gesetz der neuen Schonheit proklamieren lasst,
sondern indem er die eigene Vision der Zukunft zur
Halfte wieder illusorisch werden lasst— beinahe von
der Moral aus. (p. 196)
While Hetmann, in Hida11a. defended the ideals of
beauty in the animal instincts and wanted to create a new
morality for society, Buridan, in Die Zensur. went a step
further and wanted to restore harmony between beauty and
spirit. He called this a religion of beauty and holiness.
Examples of the New Morality
in the Characters
The previous section has presented some of Wedekind's
concepts of his new morality as exemplified in his story
lines. Obviously these concepts were also illustrated in
the words and actions and philosophies of the characters in
these dramas.
His concept of the emancipation of the flesh is well
illustrated in his characterization of Lulu in the Lulu-
tragedy, Erdgeist and Die Biichse der Pandora. Lulu, his
"earth spirit," was the tyranny of sex become flesh and
blood and, driven only by her animal instincts, she led man
after man to destruction. At the end of the play this same
107
restless, uncontroliable sexual drive finally brought about
her own death.
In Hida11a. Hetmann is another character who graphic-
.
ally shows the idea of the emancipation of the flesh. He
made unrestricted love the prerequisite for membership in
his International Society for the Breeding of Human Thor- ;
oughbreds. He explains to Launhart and Gellinghausen the j
j
purpose of the Organization and the obligations of its mem- I
bers:
Unsere erste Bestimmung lautet: Unter den Angehori-
gen des Bundes sind die burgerlichen Gesetze uber Ehe
und Farailie aufgehoben. . . . Die Mitglieder des Bundes
verzichten durch ein feierliches Gelubde auf das Recht,
einander die Bezeugungen ihrer Gunst zu verweigern. . . . J
In der Liebe sind unter den Mitgliedern des Bundes alle I
Frauen alien Mannern und alle Manner alien Frauen unter- :
tan. (AW III, 238-239) |
J
|
These lines indicate Wedekind's philosophy in this particu- j
lar concept. j
As a result of his emphasis on unrestrained sexual
license, Wedekind was accused of having no conception of
love as sentiment and eventually was identified as the prin
cipal exponent of eroticism. Occasionally this concept even
included the love of the abnormal and perverse. In the
second scene of Tod und Teufel, for example, Lisiska dis
cusses physical punishment as a "love" experience. She
108
explains to Konig that the prostitutes in a brothel do not
experience sensual pleasure? for them it is merely a re
sponsibility— a duty to be performed. She does not expect
17
any love from Konig but instead demands chastisement.
The concept of beauty of animal instincts is evident ir.
Elfriede's remarks to Casti Piani in Tod und Teufel. After
witnessing the love scene between Lisiska and Konig, El
friede now realizes that 1 1 sensual pleasure" in a brothel
I
also includes self-sacrifice. She wants to become a pros
titute and sacrifice her own life to sensual pleasure:
Verkaufen Sie michI Xch beschwore Sie, verkaufen Sie
mich an solch ein Haus1 Sie konnen ein ganz eintrag-
liches Geschaft mit mir machen'. Ich habe noch nie
geliebt, das setzt meinen Wert jedenfalls nicht herabl
Dafiir, dass ich Ihnen keine Schande mache, dass Sie j
17The love of the bizarre, the abnormal and perverse j
was frequently portrayed in the works of impressionistic j
authors. Some of the impressionists, especially those of S
Austria, were often called aesthetes or decadents. Repre- |
sentatives of this spirit in literature were Arthur Schnitz-j
ler, Hugo von Hofmannsthal (i.e., in his early works), and [
Paul Verlaine. A good interpretation of this "decadent"
theme is found in Charles Baudelaire's poems. In his Fusees
he says:
Ce qui n'est pas legerement difforme a l'air
insensible? d'ou il suit que 1'irregularite,
c'est a dire l’inattendu, la surprise,
I'etonnement sont une partie essentielle et
la caracteristique de la beaute.
See his Oeuvres nosthumes. 5th ed. (Paris, 1908), p. 83.
j ~ 109
i
j
| bei Ihren Abnehmern Ehre mit mir einlegen, verburge ich
■ mich Ihnen mit jedem Schwur, den Sie von mir verlangenl
i . . . Sie hatten recht1 Meine Betatigung zur Bekampfung
des Madchenhandels war unbefriedigte Sinnlichkeit1, Aber
meine Sinnlichkeit ist nicht schwachi Fordern Sie Be-
weisel Soil ich Sie wie wahnsinnig kiissen? 1 (AV£ IV,
| 37-38)
i
i In Hidalla. Wedekind's theme of beauty above material-
I
|ism is illustrated in the conversation between the idealist,
iHetmann, and the materialistic Launhart. Hetmann's essay
i
i
jcomparing "the love life of the bourgeoisie with that of
i
^animals" resulted in the confiscation of the newspaper. He
jregrets this because he feels that he could have lectured
on the same subject in a hundred cities without opposition.
But Launhart is pleased with the prospect of making a great
deal of money because of the confiscation and publicity.
Launhart: Aber mit Ihren Vortragen verdienen Sie sich
ein warmes Abendessen, wahrend diese Konfiskation,
besonders wenn ein Prozess daraus wird, die Zahl
unserer Abonnenten urn das Zehnfache erhohen kann'.
Hetmann: Mir ist es aber um die Verbreitung meiner
Lebensauffassung zu tun und nicht darum, durch gericht-
lichte Konfiskationen mundtot gemacht zu werdenl . . .
Hetmann emport: Glauben Sie denn, ich fiirchte mich,
fur mein Lebenswerk einzutreten, wo es mein Werk
fordern kann?I Aber Menschenseelen seien der Gewinnl
Nicht Zeitungspapier1 (AW III, 244)
The theme of beauty above materialism is treated more com
prehensively in the next chapter.
Wedekind's concept of dual morality is well depicted
110
in his characterization of Keith and Scholz in Der Marquis
von Keith. "While Keith's happiness depends solely on mater
ial wealth, Scholz contends that an individual should value
spiritual happiness which can be attained only as a "useful
member of society."
Keith sachlich: Die Dinge liegen ganz anders. Ich
verdanke den letzten vierzehn Tagen meine materielie
Freiheit und gelange infolgedessen endlich zum Genuss
meines Lebens. Und du verdankst den letzten vierzehn
Tagen deine geistige Freiheit und bist infolgedessen
endlich zum Genuss deines Lebens gelangt.
Scholz: Nur mit dem Unterschied, dass es mir bei all
den Geniissen darum zu tun ist, ein nutzliches Mitglied
der menschlichen Gesellschaft zu werden. j
Keith aufspringend: Warum soli man denn durchaus ein !
nutzliches Mitglied der menschlichen Gesellschaft |
w e r d e n ? j
Scholz: Weil man als etwas anderes keine Existenz-
berechtigung hat I (AW III, 86)
i
|
Keith does not agree with Scholz that it is important to be j
I
j
useful in society and adds that he needs no justification
for existence. He remarks that he did not ask to be born
and therefore feels justified in living the way he pleases.
In Die Zensur. Wedekind's spiritual concept is clearly
expressed by Buridan and Prantl, who give conflicting opin
ions concerning their interpretation of religion. Buridan |
contends that there is nothing in the world more deplorable
than a fool who does not believe in God. Convinced that
Buridan is insincere, Prantl maintains that Buridan's
! concept of religion is similar to that of a stockbroker who
j
idiscusses a market report, or a jockey who speaks about
ihorse racing. He also accuses Buridan of a lack of Chris
tian humility and remarks that religion is not a matter of
j
'"rationalization" but must come from the spirit and the
i
! heart (AW IV, 152).
Buridan: Aber doch wohl nur fur denjenigen, der seine
j eigenen Gedanken nicht zu Ende denken kann1 . Dem die
J Gedankenarbeit, die die menschliche Vernunft seit
Jahrtausenden bewaltigt hat, ein Buch mit sieben
Siegeln istI
1 Dr. Prantl: Ein Mensch von sittlichen Empfindungen kann
; seine eigenen Gedanken nicht zu Ende denkenL Das ist
ein Ding der Unmoglichkeit i Wozu bediirften wir denn
des Glaubens, wenn wir mit unserer Vernunft auskameni
Sie kranken an einem geistigen Hochmut, wie ich ihn
bei den verstocktesten Verbrechernaturen auf dem
Schafott nicht verbliif fender gefunden habe. (AW IV,
152)
Buridan contends that Prantl1s explanation of "faith"
is completely erroneous and that man's problems can be re
solved only through "the power of reasoning":
Es hat ja allerdings einmal jemand gesagt: Wo die Ver
nunft aufhort, beginnt der Glaube. Ich erblicke darin
eine Herabwiirdigung des Glaubens. Ich finde, dass in
dem ganzen Riesendom unseres Glaubens die Vernunft nir-
gends aufhort. . . . Ich finde, dass jeder Pfeiler, jedes
Gewolbe dieses Gebaudes nur durch die Vernunft im uner-
schiitterlichen Gleichgewicht festgehalten wird, nur
durch die Vernunft seit Jahrtausenden gegen jeden Wolken-
bruch, gegen jedes Erdbeben gesichert ist. (AW IV, 153)
112
Conclusion
This chapter has presented some of the- concepts of
Wedekind's new morality and indicated the application of
these concepts in some of his plays.
It is readily apparent that a few of the artist's
concepts of his new morality were in a formative stage dur
ing his early writing. He espoused certain freedoms, cer
tain relaxations from the old rigid morality which had gov- I
erned the writers of nineteenth-century Germany. Yet he
may not have been mature enough to develop his themes to
their logical conclusion? he may have been aware of the i
!
criticism and censure some of his ideas would bring on him I
and therefore he tempered them with having their proponents
fail as persons at the end of his plays? or he may have been
holding straws into the wind, straws which represented radi-i
“ |
cal ideas he wanted to test by public exposure. i
From 1900 on, the author had a stronger tendency to
!
explain his viewpoints than to entertain. Beginning with j
K5nia Nicolo and Hida11a. this trend became more evident in
Tod und Teufel. Musik. Die Zensur. and Oaha. Also, his
later works contained little more than variations on earlier
themes, a fact which may indicate a weakening of his crea
tive powers. The reformer had become predominantly the
113
moralizer, and he carried his moralizing to absurdity.
The next section of this study will attempt to indicate
the position the artist occupied in society and the conflict
between art and life which was reflected in his dramas.
CHAPTER V
ART AND LIFE
The conflict between art and life has been made the
theme of many artist-dramas. According to Julius Bab, it
is a product of decadent romanticism and "romantische Hypo-
I
1 I
chondrie." Felt to be tragic by socially maladjusted
artists, the conflict has never existed in that form for
i
really great artists. The misunderstood artist, in conflict
with society, is confident and proud in his profession. He
i
loves his art above everything else in life and endures any j
i
!
j
hardship for its sake. Art has elevated him and has shown j
i
him the "real" beauty and meaning of life. He wants to |
bring art to all people, but cannot realize that the gulf j
between the artist and the masses is unbridgeable. Almost
all artist-figures have one thing in common: a profound
contempt for the unfeeling, insensitive, common people, who
|
Die Chronik des deutschen Dramas. II, 88.
114
115
have no understanding for art and beauty.
Characteristic of neoromanticism is the exaltation of
the world of illusion above reality; and the problem of
impressionism is the illusory nature of the artist's exper
ience of reality. Although the world may not receive the
artist, he devotes himself completely to an ideal of truth
and beauty in what he believes is a cold, materialistic,
and cynical world. Generally speaking, there are two dif
ferent reactions in the artist: he may suffer from the fact
that he is shut out from reality; or he may glory in the
power that he has upon other men. Wedekind quite obviously
i
1
belonged to the group of socially maladjusted writers, and j
i
j
suffered because he was not taken seriously and his works j
i
i
were misunderstood by the critics and the public. j
In his book concerning the German writers at the turn
of the century, Hans W. Rosenhaupt analyzed Wedekind's feel
ings of isolation and detachment from society:
i
j
Indem der Dichter sich der Wirklichkeit zuwendet, wird
ihm der Abgrund zwischen sich und der Gesellschaft be-
wusst und es kommt zu einem Phanomen, das wir hier als
Abgelostheit bezeichnen. In dieser Formulierung druckt
sich aus, dass der Dichter im Gegensatz zu anderen
Epochen der Literatur seine Isolierung schmerzhaft als
Entfernung von seiner Bestimmung auffasst, dass ihm ein
innigeres Verhaltnis zu seiner Gesellschaft vorschwebt,
von der er sich entfernt, getrennt, abgelost empfindet.
(p. 15)
116
The theme of art as opposed to a happy bourgeois life
was touched upon in three of Wedekind's earliest works, Die
iunae Welt. Der Marquis von Keith, and Der Schnellmaler.
subtitled Kunst und Mammon. In Die junge Welt the assistant,
judge Holberg tells the poet Meier that a healthy person
seeks happiness in "life" and not in poetry (GW II, 54).
In Der Marquis von Keith the widowed Countess Werdenfels
claims that many persons became famous simply because they
avoided associating with the "commonplace" people (AH III,
67). Scholz objects to this and explains that he, too, en
joys the simple things of life. But first he must realize
his goal in society, namely, "to serve his fellow men in a j
|
useful way." j
I
I
Sie missverstehen mich noch immer, Frau Grafin.— i
Sobald ich meinen Wirkungskreis gefunden habe, werde !
ich der bescheidenste, dankbarste Gesellschafter sein.
Ich habe hier in Miinchen schon damit angefangen, radzu-
fahren. Mir war dabei zumut, als hatte ich die Welt
seit meinen fruhesten Kindertagen nicht mehr gesehen.
Jeder Baum, jedes Wasser, die Berge, der Himmel, alles
wie eine grosse Offenbarung, die ich in einem andern
Leben einmal vorausgeahnt hatte.— Darf ich Sie viel-
leicht einmal zu einer Radpartie abholen? (AW III, 68)
Scholz believes that true happiness can be realized only in !
ordinary wholesome activities, such as bicycle riding or
communing with nature where he can enjoy the trees, the
water, the hills, and the sky.
! 117
i
| Around 1900 the artist as a "misfit" in society became
|
'the main theme in many writings. "Samtliche Kunstlerge-
stalten namlich sind problematische Naturen," remarked
i
[Rosenhaupt, "voll Zweifel an ihrer Sendung, immer suchend
j
|und unbefriedigt" (p. 34). Two examples of this type of
[artist are Der Kammersanger and Der Schnellmaler.
I In Der Schnellmaler the painter, Pridolin Wald, dis-
i
jcusses the problems of life with Pankratius Knapp, a wealthy
i
jwholesale merchant and factory owner. Pridolin maintains
[that life's tribulations are just as real to the artist as
I -
'they are to the industrialist. The only solution for one's
peace of mind is to return to nature:
Bedenken Sie, auch auf mir liegt des Daseins Qual mit
erdriickender Schwere. Ich schlage euch deshalb vor,
meine Lieben, in trautem Verein einen Spaziergang in
Gottes freie Natur zu unternehmen. Am schattigen Rasen-
hang schlagen wir ein ruhiges Lager auf und lassen zu
unsern Fiissen auf tanzenden Silberwellen die kleinlichen
Sorgen des Tages talabwarts gleiten. So gelautert wer
den sich unsere Gemuter begegnen in dem seligen Ver-
langen. (GW VII, 10-11)
Despite his suggestion to return to nature and to nor
mal living, Pridolin takes the opposite viewpoint in a later
conversation with Knapp's son, Thomas. Thomas wants the
painter to put aside his palette and enter the Knapp factory
as a merchant. Then he will be able to earn money, marry
118
Thomas's sister, Johanna, and enjoy life as a "respectable"
person should. Thomas is also worried about his friend's
health and feels that Fridolin is gradually starving to
death. But the artist upholds his art and says that his
last hope for success is the unveiling of his "Prometheus"
at the art exhibition:
Das Hungern, lieber Freund, ist das Schlimmste nicht.
— Diese niedertrachtige Schnellmalerei, die entsetzliche
Notwendigkeit, urn trocknen Brotes willen tagtaglich vor
einer entmenschten Menge meine Kunst zur Dirne machen
zu mussen, das ist es, was mir die junge Stirne furcht
und so friih die Wangen aushohlt. (GW VII, 14)
As the play ends, Fridolin does realize success; his paint
ing is sold to the local art gallery, and he and Johanna
receive the paternal blessing for their future marriage.
Although this comedy does not rank among the better
works of Wedekind, it has particular significance. Contrary
to the abysmal fate of most of Wedekind's artists, the
painter Fridolin is "saved" and returns to normal life.
According to Fechter, the play had historical interest
alone, "wenn man philologisch erste schattenhafte Hinweise
auf Wesen und Wollen des spateren Wedekind darin suchen
2
oder konstruieren wollte."
^Frank Wedekind: Per Mensch und das Werk. p. 82.
119
But, for the most part, Wedekind represented complete
divorce from all conventional morality. He and his charac
ters were not so much above those moralities as outside of
them.
Characteristic of Wedekind's art was the music hall,
or "variete" style. He used this style to oppose the con
ventional restraints of society and to demonstrate the com
plete freedom of the music hall, as well as its uninhibited
attitudes toward immorality. "All life is for him a music
hall performance," stated Percival Pollard.
The effect of things moves him; causes, morals, old j
labels like "good and evil" or "the wages of sin" do !
not move him at all. He is the essential modern ex- j
pression, through art, of that savage doctrine in j
nature which orders that the stronger reptile devour
the weaker. (p. 232)
i
We have already noticed the strong Nietzschean influ- I
ence in Wedekind's Hidalla. Here the artist, Hetmann, pur
sues a project with the purpose of enhancing the joy of
living. According to Wedekind, once love becomes intellec-
tual, self-conscious, spiritualized, man loses his peace of
mind and burdens himself with a sense of guilt which perma-j
nently robs him of his joy in life. This "freedom from any
feeling of guilt" is a state of mind attained only by the
few fortunate spirits who are able to emancipate themselves
120
from the Christian asceticism which has been ingrained in
the soul of Western man.
Two types of artist confront each other in Per Kammer-
!
sanaer. a tragicomedy in three scenes: the successful
tenor j , Gerardo, a darling of society, and the aged composer,
Puhring, who has been writing music all his life without
having seen any of his works performed or published. In a
short preface added twelve years later, Wedekind expressed
the essence of the play:-
"Per Kammersanger" ist weder eine Hanswurstiade noch
ein Konversationsstiick, sondern der Zusammenstoss
zwischen einer brutalen Intelligenz und verschiedenen
blinden Leidenschaften. (AW II, 223) j
i
j
j
The women cling as persistently to the "Kammer sanger" j
j
("court singer") as the men do to Lulu, and the singer uses j
l
his brutal intelligence to make his way in the world as an
artist. He is a singer, a famous operatic tenor, whose only
goal in life is his career. Allowing no obstacle to stand
in the way of his success, he scorns the old pathetic com- i
poser as well as the two women who are infatuated with him.
When one of them shoots herself because he refuses to take
her to Brussels, his only comment is that he must leave
immediately and rehearse the role of Tristan? he must think
of his career and of his public I This last statement shows
121
the professional egoism of Gerardo and indicates that, for
him, even "death" has lost its dignity in his materialistic
world. The artist, Wedekind seems to feel, must realize
that he is a slave to the public, that he is a slave to his
art, and, above all, that he is a mere tool in the hands of
his master. When the public laughed at the grotesgueness
of Wedekind's art, he tried to defend himself in his plays."
Thus Wedekind has Gerardo say, "Sehen Sie in mir keinen
beruhmten Sanger, sondern das unwiirdige Werkzeug in der Hanc:
eines erhabenen Meisters" {AW II, 240).
In this ironical self-defense, the author seems to be
advocating "a higher and stronger society" for the middle-
class world; this time, however, society is not governed by
passions and impulses, but by intelligence and self-controls
His concept of love is evident in Gerardo1s answer to
Helene:
Die Liebe ist eine verdammt burgerliche Tugendl
Geliebt sein will der Bauer, der sein Weib mit dem
Ochsen zusammen vor den Pflug spannt. Die Liebe ist
3per Kammersanger is the earliest of Wedekind's "apol
ogies" in which Wedekind portrays himself with deadly irony.
This theme of self-defense is mentioned here only in rela
tion to the artist and society. The problem of the artist's
self-justification will be treated more fully in the next
chapter.
; eine Zufluchtsstatte fur Ofenhocker und Feiglinge'.— In
' der grossen Welt, in der ich lebe, hat jeder Mensch
1 seinen anerkannten reellen Wert. Wenn sich zwei zu-
sammentun, dann wissen sie ganz genau, wieviel sie
voneinander zu halten haben. Brauchen keine Liebe
' dazul (AW II, 270)
!
]
|These remarks give most clearly the atmosphere of the entire
i
iplay; and, according to Fechter, the curious regard for
|"grosse Welt" (which, in spite of Wedekind's cynicism, was
I
|a kind of ideal during his lifetime) has remained a very
! 4
[essential factor. After his brilliant success in a guest
|
[performance, Gerardo travels to Brussels the next day to
j
fulfill an engagement, and he wants to be alone to rehearse
for half an hour. He has given orders to allow no visitors.
He scarcely notices the letters, flowers, bottles of cham-
ipagne, and other gifts from his admirers. He cannot be
bothered with the common, ordinary things of life as he has
no time to be a human being or a man. One can sense the
cruel irony when he begins to sing in a subdued voice,
"Isolde 1 Geliebtel Bist du mein? Hab' ich dich wieder?
Darf ich dich fassen?" (AW II, 233). He is no longer in
the world to experience "life," but solely to fulfill the
purpose of his profession.
^Frank Wedekind: Der Mensch und das Werk. p. 69.
123
When he opens a window to let in fresh air, he dis
covers a sixteen-year-old girl behind the curtain, Miss
Coeurne, an admirer who has brought him red roses. It is
evident that the Lulu-role is reversed here; now it is the
woman who is pursuing the man. When she begs him not to
send her away and says she only wants to bring him roses
and "herself," Gerardo answers her as a father, thanks her
for the flowers, and tries to escort her from the room.
She lies about her age, saying she is twenty-two, and still
ignorant about life in general. She then explains, "Ich
j
habe gesagt, dass ich noch sehr dumm bin, weil man das hier j
]
I
in Deutschland bei einem jungen Madchen hochschatzt" (AW
II, 234-235), finally admits that she is not actually inno
cent, and asks him if he considers her homely. But he does j
I
j
not want to become involved in a love affair. He refers to
his limited time and explains that he must consider the
importance of his art:
i
l
I
Rechnen Sie einfach mit meiner ZeitI Es haben mich ges-
tern wenigstens zweihundert, vielleicht dreihundert
hubsche, liebenswerte, junge Madchen in Ihrem Alter in
meiner Rolle als Tannhauser auf der Buhne gesehen. Wenn !
nun jedes dieser jungen Madchen dieselben Anspriiche
stellen wollte wie Sie?— Was in aller Welt wurde dann
aus meinem Gesang?— Was wurde aus meiner Stimme?— Wohin
kame ich denn mit meiner Kunst? (AW II, 237)
She weeps, promises not to disturb him again, and asks him
124
for a kiss. In a dignified manner Gerardo replies, "Sie
entwiirdigen die Kunst, mein Kind" (AW II, 239). He demands
more respect for the "chaste goddess" Art, describes him-
I
self modestly as an unworthy tool in the hand of a sublime |
master. He explains to the young flapper that it would be
much better and wiser to sacrifice herself for music than
for a musician and refers to himself as one who cannot bear
j
to see a creature suffer, however humble. He then offers
her his picture if she will promise to leave him. She
agrees, takes the photograph, and goes away. But the sing
er's true nature is revealed in the short monologue in the
sixth scene. He is now alone and tries to sing, "Isolde[
i
Geliebtel— Bist du . . ." He stops suddenly and begins to J
i
reflect: j
I
j
Ich begriffe es, wenn die Frauen meiner endlich satt
wurdenl— Aber die Welt hat ihrer so vielel— Und ich bin
allein.— Jeder tragt sein Joch und muss es tragen1 . j
(AW II, 241)
From this point on we see his selfish side emerge more and
more.
In the seventh scene old Professor Diihring appears and
begs Gerardo to listen to the opera he has written; he wantJ
him to sing the main role. The tenor explains that this is
impossible because he must sing what is demanded of him "by
125
contract." But the professor has worked on his composition
for "fifty years" and insists on being heard. The singer
finally agrees to listen, and they discuss the viewpoint of
the modern artist toward art. Gerardo believes that pres
ent-day composers are justified in making every effort to
have their operas performed. He feels that only success is
real and maintains that a normal man does what he is "lucky"i
!
in; if a man is "unlucky," he should choose some other pro
fession. He continues:
Sie fuhren das Urteil Ihrer Freunde an. Es ist nicht j
schwer, Anerkennungen zu erhalten, die demjenigen, der !
sie ausstellt, nichts kosten. Ich bin seit meinem funf- j
zehnten Jahre fur jede Arbeit bezahlt worden und hatte '
es mir zur Schande angerechnet, wenn ich irgend etwas
umsonst hatte tun mussen.— Fiinfzig Jahre fruchtlosen
Ringensi Das musste doch den Starrkopfigsten von der j
Unmoglichkeit seiner Traume uberzeugen. Was haben Sie i
denn dann von Ihrem Leben genossen? Sie haben es siind-
haft vergeudet'. (AW II, 252-253)
j
Gerardo does not sympathize with the professor because of
fifty years of unsuccessful work. Instead, he replies that
such effort certainly proves that the fulfillment of one's
dreams is impossible. He even reproaches the professor for
i
1
having sinfully wasted life instead of enjoying it. To add !
|
insult to injury, Gerardo boasts that he has always been
paid for his work since the age of fifteen and that he would
have considered it disgraceful if he had ever been obliged
126
to do anything without pay. Walter H. Sokel amplifies this
theme:
For the bourgeois the archsin is waste. The artist who
values his creations as something apart from and even
' superior to the cash they may bring commits that archsin:
he sacrifices reality to a conceit. In return, bourgeois
society condemns him to a shadowlife.^
With great moral self-righteousness, Gerardo refuses to
t
lift a finger for Diihring.
Gerardo explains that he has never been disappointed
in life because he has never demanded the impossible from
it. As an ardent worshiper of success, he regards failure
j
as a proof of inferiority and incompetence. As a singer,
however, he does have one complaint: he feels that he is
i
. I
sacrificing his freedom and his personal happiness for the j
j
sake of his art. He says:
Ich habe fur den Fremdesten, der mich um materielle
Hilfe angeht, eine offene Hand, obschon das, was ich
meinem Beruf an Lebensgluck opfere, mit fiinfmalhundert-
tausend Franken im Jahr nicht bezahlt ist. Aber ver-
langen Sie die kleinste Aeusserung personlicher Frei-
heit von mir, so ist das von einem Sklaven, wie ich es
bin, zu viel verlangt. (AW II, 250-251)
When Professor Diihring tries to convince Gerardo that 1
C
Poeta Dolorosus," The Writer in Extremis: Expres
sionism in Twentieth-Centurv German Literature (Stanford,
California, 1959), p. 57.
127
he has written the opera, not for himself, but for his
"art," the singer replies scornfully:
Sie uberschatzen die Kunst, mein verehrter Herr I
Lassen Sie sich von mir sagen, dass die Kunst ganz
etwas anderes ist, als was man sich in den Zeitungen j
daruber weismacht. (AW II, 253) -
Then the professor states that he feels inwardly compelled
to be an artist and that art is the supreme value to which
he has sacrificed his life, and Gerardo replies that this
viewpoint is shared only by people like the professor who
are interested in making their viewpoint influential. Ger-
I
ardo believes that the artist is merely an article of lux
ury in bourgeois society, and spectators pay their money to
hear him. Pursuing his point, the tenor claims that the
artist is nothing more than another economic factor in the
commerce of a nation: he provides business to people of
all professions.
Wenn man mich mit einer halben Million bezahlt, so setze
ich dafur eine Legion von Droschkenkutschern, von
Schriftstellern, von Putzmacherinnen, von Blumenzucht-
ern, von Bierwirten in Brot. Das Geld kommt in Umlauf.
Das Blut kommt in Umlauf. Die jungen Madchen verloben
sich, die alten Jungfern verheiraten sich, die Gattin-
nen fallen dem Hausfreund zum Opfer, und die Gross-
mutter bekommen eine Unmenge Stoff zum Klatschen. Un-
glucksfalle und Verbrechen geschehen. An der Kasse
wird ein Kind totgetreten, einer Dame wird das Porte-
monnaie gestohlen, ein Herr im Theater wird vom Wahnsinn
befallen. Dadurch verdienen die Aerzte, die Advokaten
. . . (AW II, 254-255) ________________
128
He concludes his monologue with the cynical and pessimistic
comment that there are no misunderstood geniuses and that
man is not the master of his destiny. Man is born to be a
slave'. Since the artist is part of the materialistic and
commercial system, society even frowns upon him and holds
him in contempt because he makes an exhibition of himself:
"Was bin ich in den Augen deiner GesellschaftI Ein Mensch,
der sich allabendlich zum Hanswurst machti" (AW II, 265).
Gerardo finally compares the role of the creative
artist and the performing artist. In the money-determined
society of his day, the artist can maintain himself only as
entertainer. The performing artist is esteemed more highly
j
than the creative artist; if it were not for the singer's
voice and talent, Wagner's operas would already be forgot
ten. The creative artist is forced to compete with the
.
tricks of the performer, with the boxing ring and the dance
i
floor, with the acrobat and the clown. With reference to
this last statement, Sokel commented:
The theme of the great artist ignored by his public or
at best taken for a clown haunts Wedekind in the middle
years of his life because it represents his own fate.
The author of some of the most interesting plays of
modern German literature lived for many years in extreme
poverty made all the harsher by obscurity. The public
knew him as performer in the Munich night club The
Eleven Executioners. His comic talent, his jokes and
129
songs were greatly appreciated, and he was for a time a
star of Munich night life. (p. 59)^
Wedekind's contention that an artist is treated differ
ently from most individuals was convincing toward the end of
Der Kammersanger. Once again the writer was rebelling
against a society which did not understand him and would
not accept his works. Wedekind sympathizes with Diihring,
who pities himself because of a lack of success. On one
occasion Wedekind wrote, "Professor Diihring bin ich selber,
so wie ich mir mit 33 Jahren dem Theater gegeniiber er-
7
schien," a personal note which became more evident in his
later plays.
The contrast between the claims of art and of life was
clearly presented in Musik (1906), subtitled Sittengemalde
in vier Bildern (Description of Manners and Morals in Four
Pictures). Each of the four pictures has its own title:
Bei Nacht und Nebel, Hinter schwedischen Gardinen. Vom Reaen
Sokel's reference to the great importance clown and
circus have in modern art is worth noting. He calls atten
tion to Leoncavallo's opera, the paintings of such modern
ists as Toulouse-Lautrec, Picasso, Rouault, and Beckmann,
the Elegies of Rilke, the drama of Wedekind and Andreyev,
the poetry of Lasker-Schuler, and the prose of Kafka (p. 57)
7Artur Kutscher, Wedekind: Leben und Werk. ed. Karl
Ude (Munchen, 1964), p. 162.
| 130
jin die Traufe. and Der Fluch der. Lacherlichkeit. The ego-
lism of the artist, Gerardo, is found again in the conserva
tory teacher, but the play does not emphasize sexuality as
I
much as Erdqeist. Die Buchse der Pandora, and Tod und Teu
fel . Moreover, in Musik the author was content to deal with
j
jcommonplace people who were much more natural than the cari-
icatures of the Lulu tragedy.
j
Klara Huhnerwadel, a music student, has been involved
I
f in a love affair with her music teacher, Josef Reissner.
j
|The female quack who performs an abortion is seized by the
police and, as the play begins, Klara is prepared to flee
across the border to Antwerp. Reissner's wife, Else, gives
her 200 marks for her escape, advising that this is the only
logical step to prevent Klara's imprisonment. If she re
mains, the publicity and scandal will cause Josef to lose
all his students and his position at the academy. "Josef
und die Kinder und ich sind brotlosl Deine Abreise ist das
einzige, was uns alle retten kannl" (AW IV, 52).
Klara represents the innocent childish artist who is
betrayed by fate. At first she prefers to remain and face
a prison sentence, but she is finally persuaded to leave.
She is willing to accept the entire blame because of her
love for art:
Ich erschien mir aus den Himmeln meiner gluhenden
J begeisterten Liebe fur meine Kunst wie durch einen
I unerschutterlichen Blitzstrahl auf die Erde genageltl
Die erste grosse Aufgabe, die sich mir bietet, musste
mich in dieser Lage findeni (AW IV, 54)
jShe is disappointed, however, because she must now give up
j
|her first singing engagement, the role of Eva in Haydn's
i
i
["Creation."
|
Josef advises her to return from Antwerp in two or
three months and to study with him for an additional six
i
imonths. She will then be ready to make her debut as a Wag-
jnerian singer. Klara's reply is that music has been her
religion and, since her arrival at the conservatory, she has
been prepared to sacrifice happiness in life for her art.
Aber keine Macht der Welt hatte mich von meinen kunst-
lerischen Zielen abgelenktl Die Liebe zu meiner Kunst
war mir meine Religion'. Ein hoheres Gebot gab es in
dieser Welt nicht fur mich, als die seltenen Gaben, die
mir unter Tausenden durch die Gnade des Himmels zuteil
geworden, zur allerhochsten Vervollkommnung auszubildenl
Und mich brachte ich meiner Kunst so frei, so rein, so
unangetastet als Einsatz darl (AW IV, 59)
Before leaving Switzerland, Klara's mother had advised
her not to sacrifice life's happiness for a musical career.
In order to become a famous singer, she would need to be
self-centered and completely indifferent toward people,
qualities which she has not inherited from her parents.
132
"Dazu gehort ein Pferdemagen, von dem wir uns in der Schweiz
keine Vorstellung machenl Dazu muss man iiber Leichen gehen
konnenl" (AW IV, 62). Klara also realizes that she has
f
I
overestimated her artistic ability and refers to her aspi- !
j
ration as "meinen uniiberwindlichen Grossenwahn." She admits
that her mother was right and regrets that she did not heed
i
i
her advice: j
Du hattest recht, Mutter ! Ich bin keine Sangerinl Ich
bin zu spiessburgerlich, ich habe zuviel Ehrgefiihl, urn
eine wirkliche Sangerin zu werden'. Aber nicht einmal
das kann ich'. Port in Nacht und Nebel'. Fliehen muss
ich! Ueber die Grenze muss ichI Meine Kunst, meine j
Mitschulerinnen, meine Preunde, alles muss ich fliehen! !
(AW IV, 62) j
The second picture shows Klara in prison. She has re- |
1
I
j
turned from Antwerp and, following Reissner's suggestion, j
j
has surrendered to the authorities. Although, he had assured
i
her of an acquittal, she received an eight-month prison j
j
r
term. Despite Klara's suffering and humiliation, she again
becomes Reissner's "private" student. Ironically, he tells
her that in order to become a great artist, one must often j
disregard, ruthlessly, all human feelings. She is once j
again free and can exert all her energy for her artistic
life. He exonerates himself from all guilt and claims that,
as her singing teacher, he has always had her best interest
133
in mind:
War es denn da ein so unverantwortungsvolles Verbrechen
von mir, dass ich Ihnen als Ihr Lehrer den Rat gab, nach
Deutschland zuriickzukommen, sich kurzerhand verurteilen
zu lassen und in aller Stille Ihre Strafe zu verbiissen? 1
Jetzt konnen Sie doch endlich Ihre ganze Lebenskraft
wieder frei und ohne Hindernisse fur Ihre Kunst einset-
zen'. Bedenken Sie doch, was Sie durch die Qualereien,
die Sie hier erdulden mussten, gewonnen haben1 . (AW IV,
77)
Once more he assures her that she will become one of the
most celebrated Wagnerian singers within a year, if she
will continue to take "private" lessons from him.
A scene of the third picture contains a lengthy dis
cussion between Reissner and Franz Lindekuh, a newspaper
writer. At first Lindekuh believes that Klara is trying to
destroy the Reissner marriage. Only later does he learn
from Reissner that Klara is not the viHainess, but rather
a poor and helpless victim of her fate. He apologizes for
8
having misjudged her and promises to be her friend. Josef,
however, becomes insulting to Lindekuh and calls him "der
ungliickseligste Hansnarr." He explains that Lindekuh
O
Lindekuh, like Hetmann, has the role of the moralist
who is misunderstood and ridiculed by humanity. Although
he is the only one willing to help Klara, he is denounced
as a "satanist." According to Fechter, Wedekind presented
the strongest and most cynical self-derision in the charac
ter Lindekuh. See Das europaische Drama. II, 197.
134
suffers so much in life because he does not associate
j
i
enough with common, normal people. He continues, "Du
trinkst zu viel'. Du solltest dich endlich einmal verheira-
ten, um nicht mehr wie eine reissende Bestie durch unsere
friedlichen Strassen zu trottenl" (AW IV, 100).
Meanwhile, Josef, distressed because of Klara's melan
choly mood, begs hex* to be more cheerful. Although he has
used her little inheritance entrusted to his care, he con
stantly reminds her how much she owes him. Besides, she
must be considerate, inasmuch as her gloom affects his
nerves and imperils his work. "Aber ich habe wie jeder
Kunstler meine Nerven. . . . Meine Geduld hat schliesslich
auch ihre Grenzeni" (AW IV, 104-105). Klara then confesses
that again she is to bear him a child, a child which she
will do her utmost to save, since now she believes in life
rather than art.
Das Kind, das ich jetzt von dir unter dem Herzen trage,
ist vor deinen wohlgemeinten Ratschlagen in Sicherheit!
Dies Kind gehort mir'. Was ich noch an Schrecknissen
auszustehen haben werde, bis es das Licht der Welt er-
blickt, das will ich, wenn Gott mir hilft, mit der
letzten Kraft, die mir aus meinen Erlebnissen ubrig-
geblieben ist, freudig auf mich nehmen*. Und nachher—
nachher habe ich dann Gott sei Dank wenigstens ein
lebendes Geschopf auf dieser Welt, bei dem ich alles
Unrecht, das ich erlitten— bei dem ich meine wundervoile
Stimme, meine Kunst— bei dem ich alle irdische Herrlich-
keit, die ich einst aus meiner kunstlerischen Begabung
135
erhaffte— bei dem ich alles, alles vergessen kann'.
(AW XV, 106-107)
At last Klara realizes that her whole existence has been
only a shadow and a lie. Now she longs for normality, for
a life that is natural rather than problematical. At last
her child will enable her to forget her wonderful voice,
her art, and all the fame she had once hoped for.
In the last act, "Viertes Bild,1 1 Josef and his wife
stand by Klara's bedside in the garret where her child has
been born and has died. "Musik1 . Musik'." she laments, "Was
I
habe ich urn deinetwillen auf Gottes Welt schon ausgestand- j
en1" (AW IV, 119). In despair, she cries out to her mother j
who has just arrived from Switzerland, "Hier liegt mein
Kind'. Es ist kaltl . . . Mutter, was ich um dieses Kind j
gelitten habe, . . . Und jetzt ist es hini Alles hin'.
Alles, alles hin'." (AW IV, 123). Her mother, knowing noth
ing about the relationship between Klara and Josef and
thinking Lindekuh is responsible for the affair, turns to
Josef and thanks him for all that he has done for her
daughter. Klara can suffer no more. Her feeling of scorn
and degradation is so intense that her mind gives way:
Mir war noch ubrig, in meinem Ungliick verhohnt zu
werdenl Das irdische Denken reicht nicht bis zu dem
Gedanken aus, dass es solche Qualen gibtl Ich stehe
136
am Schandpfahll Und kein Erwurgen moglichl Kein
Selbstmord mehri Gelachter iiber mirl Gelachter
unter mirl GelachterGelachter [ . . .Die Menschen
bekommen Krampfe vor Lachen, wenn sie die Erzahlung
meiner Qualen horen1 (AW IV, 125)
Klara realizes that her suffering has been in vain and
Lindekuh's attempt to help her has been unsuccessful. A
l
final touch of irony is indicated in Lindekuh's concluding j
statement, "Die kann ein Lied singenl" (AW IV, 126).
Musik is more uniform and compact than most of Wede
kind's self-portrait dramas. In this work his demand and
accusation do not apply only to himself, and thus the treat
ment is more objective. For this reason, in the role
played by Lindekuh, Wedekind is more convincing than he was
j
as Hetmann. In Musik the writer remains "outside" and ob- j
serves and shapes his characters as an outsider? and this !
seems to result in a uniformity of character that is lack- !
ing in Hidalla.
Fechter's opinion was that there were many works of
Wedekind with a tighter and more dramatic construction. He
continued, "Der Parallelismus der Wiederholung des Unglucks,
i
der wie in 'Hidalla' die Hauptgliederung bestimmt, ist hier j
137
9
nur wie mit loser Hand gezeichnet." Yet it is precisely
this loose construction that gave the work a charm and deli
cacy seldom found in Wedekind. In his brief commentary to
his works, Was ich mir dabei dachte. Wedekind maintained
that Musik was not a "Schlusselstuck" (key drama) but a
character-study.^
Although Fechter's and Wedekind's comments are valid,
the play has one weakness that should be considered: the
repetition of misfortune that confronts the heroine. For
example, Klara falls a victim to her dissolute music teacher
and is persuaded by him to submit to an abortion. She also
entrusts him with her entire paternal inheritance of 5 0,000
francs; later Reissner admits that he can pay back only a !
|
small amount to cover her daily needs. Next she is per- j
suaded to flee across the border in order to save the Reiss-;
ner family from dishonor and disgrace. After an unbearable
existence in Antwerp, she is advised by Reissner to return
to Germany where she will be exonerated? instead, she is i
imprisoned for eight months. After all these unhappy
^Frank Wedekind: Der Mensch und das Werk. p. 102.
^Frank Wedekind: Prosar Dramen. Verse. 2nd ed., ed.
Hansgeorg Maier (Miinchen, 1960), p. 951.
138
experiences, she enters the musician's house to work as his
favorite pupil and once again becomes his victim. The final
touch of irony is indicated in the death of her child.
In this play Wedekind attempted to show two types of
artist: the egotistic voice teacher, Reissner, who demands
and receives special privileges in life, and the innocent
student, Klara, who struggles in vain for success. Like
many artists, she is faced with insurmountable obstacles and
is betrayed by the hardships of life. Wedekind's argument
was convincing, but it seems unlikely that so much unhappi
ness could come to one person. It is even more difficult
to imagine such naivete on her part. The play may have been
quite effective in the theater of the early 1900's, but in
the theater of today it would be classified as extreme melo-j
drama. The horrors of Musik are no longer horrible to a
modern audience which is constantly subjected to the "trag
edies" of the movies, radio and television. The modern
reader, although sympathetic toward Klara, might resent her
passiveness.
Albert Soergel's remarks concerning the play are note
worthy, particularly since they were made only ten years
after the work was published. He criticized Wedekind's use
of bombastic "Papierdeutsch" that belonged partly to the bad
139
newspaper and partly to the cheap sensational novel. As an
example, he quoted one of Klara's short speeches, "Aber ich
bin fest iiberzeugt, dass du, die du ihn kennst und liebst,
ihm verzeihen wirst" (At£ IV, 51-52). He also maintained
that the headings of the pictures, Bei Nacht und Nebel.
Hinter schwedischen Gardinen. Vom Reqen in die Traufe. and
Per Fluch der Lacherlichkeit were titles from a cheap sen
sational novel. In Soergel's opinion, his affected and
apathetic style made Wedekind's dramas boring, especially
if several of his works were read or seen in succession (I,
834) .
Although Karl Ude concurred with Soergel's opinion, he
!
attempted to justify Wedekind's style and his use of cari- j
!
cature and the grotesque in Musik. Ude also gave an inter
esting explanation of Wedekind's statement, "Der Stoff . . .
schien mir gar keine andere Behandlungsweise zu vertragen.
Hatte ich den Stoff ernster auffassen wollen, dann hatte ich
das Beste daran verdorben" (GW IX, 434).
Alles Aussere ist in ihm gegeben und zwingt zu ganz
bestimmter Darstellung. Diesem unkiinstlerischen,
banalen Gegenstand, dieser Welt dumpfiger Gefiihle,
dieser Handlung voll lichtlosen Elends gegenuber musste
die geistige Uberlegenheit gewahrt bleiben, wenn einen
nicht das Grauen packen sollte. Die Begebenheit musste
grotesk komisch aufgemacht werden in Anlehnung an die
volkstumliche Form der Moritat. Auf keinen Fall durfte
140
ein Trauerspiel entstehen, wie doch die erste Bezeichnung
lautet; "Sittengemalde" bedeutet eine Bankelsangertafel,
auf der die Motive mit grellbunten Farben karikaturis-
tisch ausgemalt, durch kolportagehafte Bearbeitung zer-
setzt sind.^
Franziska (1911), subtitled Ein modernes Mvsterium.
was perhaps the most noteworthy of Wedekind's later plays.
In this drama he tried to present a female counterpart to
Goethe's Faust, and some critics have, in fact, called the
play "a female Faust." The scenes roughly follow Goethe's
work and include the well-known tavern episode; a Berlin
tavern, crowded with debauched revelers, corresponds to
Auerbach's cellar.
Wedekind even parodied the theme of Faust, namely, j
i
Faust's desire for knowledge and power. In the case of j
i
t
Franziska, the desire is to experience all earthly happiness!
and to enjoy perfect freedom disguised as a man. Franziska,
the antipode to Klara in Musik. represents another type of
artist but, unlike innocent Klara, she is the "aggressor."
There are actually two main figures in this Mvsterien-
spiel. Veit Kunz and Franziska. He is a worthless profli
gate, an adventurer and astronomer, and is Wedekind's !
■^Kutscher, Wedekind; Leben und Werk. p. 253.
12
presentation of a Mephistophelian character, while Fran
ziska acts almost like an escorting page in her Faustian
role. In reality, Wedekind is both Kunz and Franziska, or
13
the counterpart to Mephistopheles and Faust.
As the play begins, Franziska has already had a love
affair with Dr. Hofmiller, a theatrical agent. In contrast
to Klara, the victim of Reissner in Musik. Franziska will
ingly submits to Hofmiller. Bored with her existence, she
does not want to remain virtuous and knows that life has
better things to offer than the constant quarrels she had
experienced in her parents' home. When Hofmiller proposes
I p
At the age of twenty-seven, Wedekind helped a young
Parisian philosopher translate Nietzsche. The philosopher
introduced his friend to the Bohemian life of the Latin
Quarter, where the world-famous "grisettes" appeared; these
evenings in the music halls and cabarets became more fre
quent. Although Wedekind did not write Franziska until
twenty years later, he was already identified as the German
Mephistopheles. As Gunther commented, "Die Kunstler kennen
bereits den freundlichen deutschen Mephisto, der dort, mit
Zwicker und Bart, regelmassig in den ersten Reihen sitzt unc
die Yvette Guilbert oder Bruant, den Konig des nachtlichen
Montmartre, bewundert." See "Paris als Erlebnis: Frank
Wedekind und Paris," Antares. I, No. 5 (1952-1953), 4.
Wedekind's use of two arguing and conflicting charac
ters as a form of self-portraiture occurred frequently in
his dramas. As previously'mentioned, he was Professor Diih-
ring and also singer Gerardo in Der Kammersanaar. He was
the expelled King Nicolo as well as the usurper king. He
was Keith and Scholz in Der Marquis von Keith? he was Buri-
dan and Prantl in Die Zensur.
marriage she refuses and sends him away. Unlike Klara, who
wanted to marry Reissner and lead a normal life, Franziska
merely uses Hofmiller for her own purpose.
Ich lehe in einer anderen Welt. Die Einrichtungen sind
andere. Die Freuden sind andere. Das Unheil ist ein
anderes. Ich verschliesse es nicht mehr in mir. Ich
brauche mir den Hexentanz nur diktieren zu lassen.
Vielleicht bringt das Erleichterung. (AW V, 21)
At this point Kunz appears and persuades Franziska to
elope with him and explore to the full the pleasures life
has to offer. Like Mephistopheles in Faust. Kunz pledges
himself to serve her on condition that she will belong to
him after a given time. He wants to train her to become a
singer and, in exchange, he will fulfill all her demands.
As an artist, she deserves more than freedom and the pleas
ures of ordinary life. She says, "Das haben Millionen Wei-
ber. Ich werde vor Langweile dabei verruckt" (AW V, 23).
Her life's experience must include a Lesbian marriage.
In the role of "Faust," she will lose her charm over men
but will be able to compete with them. Kunz agrees to ful
fill her request? she may live disguised as a man for two
years but then must become his mistress and slave. If she
becomes an artist, she will realize her desires because the
artist has special privileges in life. He continues:
j 143:
i
I Gerade fiir Ihre Ziele finden Sie keinen glatteren Weg
; als eine kiinstlerische Laufbahn. Die Kunst, wissen
i Sie, uberspringt jeden Abgrund. Dazu ist sie Kunst.
Sonst ware sie Blodsinn. (AW V, 23)
Kunz feels that he is also entitled to special privi
leges in life. He reasons that the singing lesson oppresses
I
|both the teacher and the student, and both are martyrs to
j
Itheir profession. "Sie fiihlen sich misshandelt und lechzen
|
jnach Ihrem Peiniger. Mich peitscht die Nervenspannung
i
jauf, die ich in Ihnen hervorrufen muss" (AW V, 24). He con
tends that every music lesson should end with a love affair.
;This impudent suggestion parallels the remarks made by
■Reissner to Klara in Musik.
Some of the artists who had belonged to Wedekind's
earlier Bohemian group had led lives of carefree poverty,
unrestricted love, and amusement, and were arrogant and
irresponsible, enjoying life and taking nothing seriously.
Kunz and an actor, Breitenbach, both seem to be portrayals
of these early friends of Wedekind.
In a cynical discussion in the fourth act Breitenbach
and Fahrstuhl, a newspaper correspondent, indicate Wede
kind's attitude toward the artist-profession. Breitenbach
maintains that the artist does not have a profession com
parable to that of the doctor or the factory owner. "Der
144
Kiinstler, Maler, Musiker, sei er, was er sei," he continues,
"sucht sich eben rait moglichst geringem Kostenaufwand einen
moglichst ausgiebigen Lebensgenuss zu verschaffen" (AW V,
103). Breitenbach feels that the artist is justified in
his desire to enjoy life to the fullest.
In contrast to Kunz and Breitenbach, Karl Aimer, a
painter, wins Pranziska because he believes that life does
have meaning and purpose. Above all, he believes in human
kindness and, unlike Kunz and Breitenbach, also has respect
for women. He tells Franziska, "Ich konnte mir nie ein
anderes Lebensgliick denken, als mit einem Weib, das ich
bewundern und verehren darf" (AW V, 128). He explains that
Kunz and Breitenbach are unhappy because they are unable to I
i
i
distinguish between the demands of art and of life. Kunz j
finally realizes that he has lost Franziska to another and |
attempts to strangle himself. Franziska discloses to Kunz
that she is pregnant and leaves him cheated out of his due
14
reward— like Mephistopheles.
Both Kunz and Breitenbach lose Franziska because each
14In his article, "Peitschenknall, Paukenschlage,
Schusse, Gelachter," Munchner Merkur. July 24, 1964, p. 10,
Wolfgang Drews commented that the scene between Franziska
and Kunz was one of the most beautiful love scenes of all
stage literature (see AW V, 94-96).
145
one has become a "Gefuhlsmensch.1 1 Both of them claim to be
the father of her child, but neither one wants to accept the
responsibility of a father. Kunz explains to Franziska,
"Auf vaterliche Gefiihle fur dein Kind bitte ich unter keinen
Umstanden bei mir zu rechnen" (AW V, 124). Breitenbach1s
statement to her is more considerate. He offers to take the
place of her mother who has recently died, so that Franziska
will not be alone in the world:
Wenn du also davon absehen willst, dass ich jemals als
Vater deines Kindes in Betracht komme, dann wurde ich
mich glucklich schatzen, wenn ich dir, damit du nicht
ganzlich vereinsamt in der Welt stehst, deine alte gute
Mutter ersetzen konnte. (AW V, 126) j
j
Franziska, however, retains her pride and sends them away !
j
because she now realizes that neither of them is mature |
i
enough to face the problems of normal living. j
At the end of the play, we find her in a rural setting
with her little boy, Veitralf, enjoying the simple pleasures
of motherhood. With Veitralf on his knee, Aimer gives the
concluding words:
Wenn ich, statt taglich Neues zu begehren,
Dem Schicksal freudig danke, was es gibt,
Wie soil mich Reue je verzehrenl
(Zu Veitralf)
In dir mag ein Befreier wiederkehren.
Gedeihen wirst du, denn du bist geliebt'. :
(M V, 130)
146
Compared to some of his other plays, Wedekind's views,
in Franziska. seemed more deliberate, less sentimental, and
more mature. In this play, also a self--portraiture, the
writer gave a deeper personal revelation in his discussionsJ
He was skeptical about the value of his own work and re
gretted that, as an artist, he had not accomplished more in
life. "0 grimmer Fluchl/ Ein halb Jahrhundert alt und
nichts, was mein/ In Gottes Schopfungl" (AW V, 112). Al
though he was resigned to his place in life, Wedekind re
gretted that he had used his talents in too many areas.
Kunz expressed it thus toward the end of the fourth act:
!
Fluch meinem Spiel'. Dem Stolzi Dem Uebermut'. j
Als welch ein Maulheld hab' ich mich gebardet: j
Versicherungsbeamter, Sklavenhalter,
Gesangsmagister, Kuppler, Diplomat,
Hanswurst, Schriftsteller, Schauspielakrobat,
Marktschreier, Brautigam noch in meinem Alter, |
Erpresser, Heiratsschwindler, Bauernfanger, j
Revolverjournalist und Bankelsanger, j
Urn jetzt, berauscht von bloden Hochgefuhlen,
Als dummster Narr den lieben Gott zu spieleni
Nicht Unheil, Ekel nur, mit Hass gespaart,
Kann mich, der unzerbrechlich schien, zerstuckeln.
Mag sich die Welt, so schon sie will, entwickeln'.
Ich schliesse ab mit dieser Hollenfahrt' . (AW V, 113)
This clear picture of the author in his last years caused
Fechter to say: "Fur die Kenntnis des spaten Wedekind ist
Veit Kunz eine der entscheidenden Gestalten, vielleicht die
147
15
entscheidende."
Two important aspects should he emphasized: the first
concerns Aimer's final remarks which stress the significance
of happiness, kindness, love of children, and marriage.
Although this might he considered a change in Wedekind's
philosophy of life, considering his violently pessimistic
view in so many other works, it is difficult to imagine
that such a radical change could occur in his later years.
It is perhaps more logical to assume that he was again
cynically describing woman's position and fate in life, at
the same time ridiculing his own life of unfulfilled de
sires. After enjoying life's pleasures as a female Faust,
Franziska ended as a decent woman and was permitted to live
happily with Veitralf. This is certainly different from thd
j
fate of the heroines in most of Wedekind's dramas, hut it is
questionable whether this blissful ending was pure irony or
whether it implied a renunciation of the author's previous
pessimism. The reader is tempted to agree with Chandler,
who commented:
We are left to suppose that this female Faust who longed j
for independence as a man finally accepts fate as a
^Frank Wedekind: Der Mensch und das Werk. p. 118.
148
mother, with the Mephisto of her pact becoming her
sentimental protector. There is mockery here at the
expense of woman, and especially at the author's
self. How vain, he seems to say, has been his own
yearning to capture satisfaction in feminine arms!
How vain to seek in woman fidelity or anything except
mother love i ^
The second point to be considered is the obvious con
tradiction in the artist1s attitude toward bourgeois mar
riage. At first, Wedekind had Kunz and Breitenbach imply
that the artist was an exceptional person and therefore ex
cluded from the ordinary morals of life. Both had love
affairs with Franziska and were freed from all family obli
gations . Then the opposite viewpoint was expressed by the
honorable and unselfish artist Aimer. Not only was he will
ing to accept Veitralf and Franziska, but he considered it
a privilege.
This conflict of ideas, typical of Wedekind, occurred
frequently in his works. It often confused the issue and
made the interpretation of the writer's views difficult.
One might conclude that this contradiction of viewpoints
was indicative of Wedekind's dual personality. But, it is
i
i
16"irrepressibles of the German Theater: Wedekind and
Hasenclever," Modern Continental Playwrights, p. 371.
149
not always easy to determine whether he was sincere. The
opinion of Werner Mahrholz is worth noting because he
classified the author as a dialectician.
Wedekind hat eine natiirliche Begabung dafiir, in
einer Situation das Gegensatzliche, sich Ausschliess-
ende aufzuspuren und es in einem Witz zur Form zu
verdichten. Das kommt daher, dass er ein Dialektiker
g 9 J
ist, und es zeigt srch diese seme Neigung zur Dialek-
tik sehr deutlich in seinen Schriften: seine Verse
sind in der Art Heinrich Heines auf Pointen hin gebaut,
und seine "Dramen" sind Aneinanderreihungen von Dis- j
kussionen, von dialektischen Stegreiferzeugnissen, von
witzigen Einfallen. (p. 110)
Occasionally Wedekind must have thought that too many
ideals and principles in one individual were impractical and
seemed to cause restlessness and unhappiness in life. He !
j
expressed this in a letter to Beate Heine, dated August 26, j
I
19 00:
Das Leben hat es nicht gern und ist einem nicht giinstig,
wenn man es zu ernst nimmt. Das weiss niemand besser
als ich, der vor lauter Begriffen, Ideen, Ansichten,
Prinzipien, Absichten, Vorsatzen, Befurchtungen und
Hoffnungen keinen Augenblick zur Besinnung kommt, nir- j
gends die notige Unbefangenheit findet und die schonsten j
Gelegenheiten, sein Gluck zu machen, daruber verpasst.^-^ j
I
Although he suggested that one should take life less seri- j
ously, it seems evident from the works treated thus far that
he did not follow his own advice.
Frank Wedekind, SelbstdarsteHung. ed. Willi Reich
(Munchen, 1954), p. 49. ___________
CHAPTER VI
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL CONTENT OF THE
ARTIST IMAGE: WEDEKIND'S
SELF-JUSTIFICATION
The year 1900 marked a turning point in Wedekind's
work. Up to this time the theme of his dramas had been
largely a criticism of the bourgeois world. In his bitter
struggle against middle-class society he had made conven
tional morality the butt of his vitriolic attack. He had
battled for sexual enlightenment (Fruhlinos Erwachen). for
free love (Hidalla). and for equal rights for unmarried
mothers (Tod und Teufel). In general, he had assumed the
role of a reformer and had attempted to revolutionize the
socially accepted standards of his day. At the turn of the
century his attitude changed and he became more mature and
resigned. He let his earlier plays serve as vehicles for
a "message," but now he began to speak about himself and
about his work. He began to take himself more seriously
151
and more tragically. He complained about the public that
misunderstood him and failed to appreciate him. He empha
sized himself and his own importance, and he called for
respect and recognition. In short, the theme was no longer
the "world" but Wedekind's opinion of it and the world's
opinion of him. Thus it was a question of an evaluation of
the writer and his work.
Six dramas were written between 1901 and 1908, which
express the sentimental phase of Wedekind's writing. The
first of the series was Konig Nicolo or So ist das Leben.
the only one of Wedekind's major plays set in a legendary
past. Although the subtitle suggests skepticism and resig
nation, the play contained the author's first demand to be
taken seriously. The other dramas of self-defense were
Hidalla. Musik. Die Zensur. Tod und Teufel, and Oaha.
In Konig Nicolo. the first words of the prologue, "Nur
kein Gelachter" (AW III, 121), indicate the basic mood of
the play. A fairytale king has been dethroned by a common
upstart and goes into exile. Accompanied by his daughter
Alma, he wanders aimlessly through the land; in reality,
this is the tragedy of Wedekind's own fate. For more than
ten years he wrote one work after another and was ridiculed
by the press and the public. Every word spoken by the king
152
can be applied to Wedekind.
During his period of exile the king is forced to take
on various degrading jobs and, on one occasion, serves as
an apprentice to a ladies' tailor, Pandolfo. Nicolo ex
plains to Alma that he has acquired great talent in sewing
women's clothes, and that Pandolfo considers him more
skillful than the other apprentices. When Alma asks her
father why he views his unhappy fate so ironically, he re
plies, "Schmeichle mir nicht so hohnisch, mein Kind.— Das
Geschick treibt seinen Spott mit mir, nicht ich mit ihml"
(AW III, 144).
The other three apprentices are envious of Nicolo's
skill, and they degrade him further by calling him "Lehr-
bub" and "Unhold." They describe him as not quite sane and
think that he must have been some kind of boot-black for a
gentleman; because of this, he has assumed a superior atti
tude. But Wedekind's strongest self-criticism is expressed
in the remarks of the apprentice, Michele:
Ich will euch sagen, warum der Bube so stockdumm istl
Von uns hat sich jeder in der Welt herumgetrieben, und
wir hatten oft genug nichts zu beissen. Tut der aber
sein Maul einmal auf, dann kommen Fluche aus ihm heraus
von einer Ruchlosigkeit, dass sich uns dreien der Magen
umkehrt'. Dann schamt sich die Erde, dass sie den Unhold
hervorgebracht hat; dann schamt sich der Himmel, dass er
ihn beschienen hat; dann schamt sich die Holle, dass sie
153
ihn noch nicht verschlungen hat I — Ihr werdet's erleben!
(AW III, 147)
The cynical implication is that the apprentices have had
difficult experiences in life, but the king has never faced
such problems. Everything the king (Wedekind) has said is
insulting and malicious, and obviously this accusation al
ludes to his writings as well. Earth regrets that it has
created such an evil spirit? Heaven is ashamed that it has
shed rays of light upon him; and Hell is ashamed that it
has not yet opened up and swallowed him.
The exaggerated remarks in this passage not only re
veal one of Wedekind's most acrimonious self-indictments.
The few lines describe his failure on two social levels:
first, he is unsuccessful in gaining recognition as a writ
er? now he is equally unsuccessful in adapting himself to
the bourgeois scale of values and eventually loses his job
as a tailor. As Fechter commented, "Wedekind hat kaum je
eine bitterere Selbstironie gefunden, als wenn er seinen
Doppelganger Nicolo zum Damenschneider macht." He contin
ued:
Er spricht noch von ferne; so wird aus der Klage ein
seltsam doppelbodiges Spiel mit Freiheit, Adel, Majes-
tat und Ruhm. Der Dichter-Konig ist nicht nur der Ver-
kannte, er stiirzt iiber die Beleidigung der eigenen
Majestat und steigt erst wieder iiber das possenhafte
154
Bekenntnis der eigenen Schuld, das an das Konigliche
in dem andern riihrt. Schwermut und Trauer spielen hier
noch mit sich selber ein beherrschtes Spiel von tieferer
Bedeutung; aus der personlich gestimmten Klage wachst
ein iiberpersonliches Spiegelbild des Schicksals konig-
licher Menschen von einer ergreifenden unwirklichen
Wirklichkeit.^
Finally, the king can no longer endure the constant
harassment of the apprentices and, in a fit of temper, he
curses and insults the usurper-king Pietro. As a result,
King Nicolo is arrested, tried, and again banned from the
country; the death sentence will be imposed if he ever re
turns. Ultimately he joins a company of strolling players
where he acts the part of the king. Before this, however,
a circus-rider expresses doubt that Nicolo is even talented
enough to play the role of a buffoon. When Nicolo tells
him there is also a noble art called "tragedy," the circus-
rider admits that he has heard of it. But he feels that
this is a very impractical art, saying "Auf diese Kunst,
j
lieber Bruder, verstehe ich mich ganz und gar nicht. Nur
eines w'eiss ich von ihr, dass sie herzlich schlecht bezahlt
wird" {ML HI, 169).
The second act ends with the tragic and cynical
~ 4jas eurooaische Drama . . .. II, 192.
! 155
i
j"Elendenkirchweih" scene of the comedians at the high court.
i
i
iFor heightened effect, Wedekind used a chorus to greet the
spectators. He also composed the melody with its melancholy
l
jrhythm.
j
Auf dem Dorf und in der Stadt
i Schnarchen alle Menschen hinter dichtgeschlossnen
! Fenstern;
! Und was Haus und Bett nicht hat,
j Dreht sich unterm Hochgericht mit frohlichen
! Gespenstern1
| (AW III, 170)
J
j
i Sonne bald den Berg erklimmt,
; Uns bis iibers Jahr in alle Winde zu verschlagen,
Die vom Schicksal wir bestimmt,
Unerreicb*"': 'iruggebilde krampfhaft zu erjagen!
(AW III, 180)
King Nicolo then acts out a tragic monologue, bemoan
ing his fate, and is greeted by great applause as a comic
actor. He protests his genuine feelings and defends him
self in vain against being taken as a comedian. It is, of
course, really Wedekind who says;
Ich bin der Herrscher hier in diesem Land,
Von Gott ernannt, von niemand erkanntl
Und wenn ich's schriee, dass die Felsen drohnen,
Dass ich in diesem Lande Herrscher bin,
Der Vogel Zwitschern wurde mich verhohnen'.—
Wozu gereicht mein koniglicher Sinn? (AW III, 174)
He again attempts to convince the audience of his serious
purpose in life;
156
Geehrte Zuhorerl Mein Pach auf der Buhne ist die
grosse ernste Tragodiel . . . Was ich euch soeben vor-
trug, ist mir das Teuerste, das Heiligste, was ich bis
jetzt in den Tiefen meiner Seele verschlossen hieltl
(AW III, 174)
Now the spectators are even more convinced that he is a
natural-born comedian.
Two theatrical directors want to engage him as a comic
actor. One of them maintains that Nicolo does not have the
slightest talent as a tragic actor; as a comedian, however,
his success in the world is assured. Nicolo also lacks the
characteristics of a real king. The director tells Nicolo,
"Dein Konigsmonolog ist die Karikatur eines wirklichen
Konigs und muss als solche gewiirdigt werden" (AW III, 178). |
1
The other director agrees and claims that Nicolo does not j
have any conception of tragedy, adding, "Ich habe meinen j
Beruf an den Universitaten von Rom und Bologna studiert"
(Mill, 178).
i
I
Nicolo is finally hired and brought before the usurper-
king to play his now famous king-farce. Only the new king,
Pietro, sees the play as tragic, and is amazed that the
i
people laugh at it as high comedy. He hires Nicolo as court
fool in order to protect the dignity of his office.
Wohlan denn, wenn das Leben so ist, dann soil mein
Volk dich nicht eher wieder horen, als bis es dich auch
157
versteht, denn sonst untergrabt dein Spiel nur die
Wiirde meines Amtes.... So wie dein Geist dort auf
der Buhne aufrecht zwischen dem Herrscher und seinen
dustren Begierden stand, so soil er in meinem Innern
gebieten'. Ich ernenne dich zu meinem Hofnarren.
(AW III, 198-199)
Just before King Nicolo dies, unrecognized, he refers
to his life as "Fluch der Lacherlichkeit" (curse of absurd
ity). As a final speech, he says, "Wer kann durch seinen
Leichnam beweisen, dass er Konig war'. . . . Zu spat! Zu
spat1 . — So ist das Leben'." {Ml III, 209). Thus his life ends,
not as a king, but as court jester to a wealthy butcher who
has become the new king. As Sokel explained:
In the bourgeois world the natural hierarchy of values
is reversed, for "when the butcher is king . . . then j
the only role left for the king is that of a fool." The J
vulgar wear the crown; the noble wears the jester's cap. |
The tragic muse can survive only in the guise of the \
comic. (p. 58) i
i
l
Of the many self-justification dramas of Wedekind,
Konig Nicolo is perhaps the most convincing. The king's !
last comment, noted above, indicates the author's tragic
view of life: if he fails to gain recognition while alive,
he will never gain recognition after death.
His acceptance of menial work while traveling through
the country can be said to parallel Wedekind's own lack of
success in his chosen field. As a dethroned king, Nicolo
f
158
is forced to accept employment not only as a tailor's ap
prentice, but also as a herdsman. Behind this acceptance
of a more menial role a fear of life seems evident. Wede
kind, similarly, although only thirty-seven when he wrote i
i
!
this tragedy, was still struggling with the criticism of
the censors and the public. Through the years his feeling
of frustration had become intense, and now he, too, seemed
to question his writing prowess. His extreme pessimism j
caused him to begin to doubt his ability to accomplish the
most mediocre tasks. Perhaps because of its psychological
honesty, yet at the same time its defeatism, Konig Nicolo
does have dramatic appeal.
I
!
The "Elendenkirchweih" scene, already mentioned, is j
undoubtedly the most effective one in the entire play. In
!
Fechter's favorable comments concerning the drama and this |
i
scene, he claimed that there are not many works of the
author that have shaped life more directly, more emotion
ally, more cruelly. And he added, "Es gibt wenige, in
denen er, bei allem Gefangensein in sich selbst, so weit ins
Vergeistigte vorgestossen ist." Fechter continued:
Er hatte gerade mit dieser Tragodie ein Recht zu der
Forderung, ernst genommen zu werden. Eine Szene wie
die Elendenkirchweih der Komodianten am Hochgericht ist
in dem Jahrhundert seit Buchner und Arnim nicht mehr
159
geschrieben worden und ein Chorus wie der der Begrussung
der Ankommenden mit dem gespenstig klappernden, melan-
cholisch lacherlichen Rhythmus der von Wedekind selbst
angegebenen Melodie ebenfalls nicht . . .2
Wedekind's Schauspielkunst contained a brief essay,
titled "Hinrichtungen,1 1 in which the writer made a caustic
remark about the performance of Konig Nicolo. He claimed
that present-day dramaturgy was more concerned with "Hin-
richtungen" ("executions") than with "Auffiihrungen" ("pre
sentations" ). His own experience, however, was negligible
compared to that of his colleagues. He continued, "Mein
Schauspiel 'So ist das Leben' wurde in Miinchen, Berlin und
Frankfurt a. M. hingerichtet" (GW VII, 314).
As an expression of human suffering, Hidalla was per
haps the most impressive writing of the mature Wedekind.
Fundamentally, the theme was the same as that of Konig
Nicolo.i.e.. an ironical "settlement" with the world and,
at the same time, with his own life. The writer, Hetmann,
ridicules his fate as a writer and sits in judgment on the
world and on himself. Wedekind's personal grievance and
self-pity also find a parallel in Konig Nicolo.
^Das europaische Drama . . .. II, 192.
160
Das Drama steht neben "Konig Nicolo" wiederum als kaum
verschleierte Klage und Anklage eines Mannes, dem das
Los ward, als ein besonderer Mensch, als Gezeichneter,
von sich Besessener, als Dichter durch das Dasein der
Normalen gehen zu miissen. Hinter Karl Hetmann, dem
Zwergriesen, steht ebenfalls der Schatten seines Schop-
fers; hinter seinen bitteren Worten klingt die Stimme
Wedekinds, der hier aufs neue Sinn und Widersinn seines
9 O
Daseins klarzulegen und auszusprechen ringt.
It has been shown that Nicolo1s fate was determined by-
two factors: his serious purpose in life was misunderstood
because the public considered him a comic actor? and his
writing talent was questioned. In Hidalla both themes are
presented even more cynically; and once again Wedekind re
serves for himself the part of the misunderstood philosopher
who reasons in vain with the rabble.
In an earlier chapter we have seen how Hetmann at
tempted to introduce a new morality to the bourgeois world:
the purpose of his International Society was to breed a new
race of human thoroughbreds. But in a discussion between
Walo Freiherr von Briihl and Fanny Kettler, von Briihl ex
presses doubt that such a plan is feasible. He also doubts
Hetmann's sincerity in promoting this ideal. He refers to
Hetmann as a type of "Naturbursche" who likes to confuse his
•^Fechter, Das europaische Drama . . .. II, 193.
161
fellow men by introducing shocking, intellectual ideas.
Kurz und gut, urn es mit derben Worten zu sagen:
haben wir in Karl Hetmann einen zuverlassigen Geist,
auf den sich bauen lasst, oder ist er, was ich immer
und immer furchte, ein sogenanntes Original, eine
Reklamegrosse, ein Mensch, dem die Befriedigung eigener
Eitelkeit hochstes Ziel ist und der sich im stillen
iiber die stets machtiger anwachsende Bewegung lustig
macht, die sein Auftreten zur Folge hat? (AW III, 257)
While von Briihl calls him a charlatan, an egotist, and
one who is given to self-advertisement, Fanny presents the
other side of Hetmann's personality. She describes him as
the most remarkable individual that has ever existed.
"Hetmann," she says, "steht nicht wie— du und ich in diesem
Leben" (AW III, 257). She continues:
Jeder Gedanke, den er hegt, jeder Schritt, den er tut,
zielt iiber die Grenzen unseres Daseins hinaus. Seinem
eigenen Wohlergehen gegeniiber ist er von einer Gleich-
giiltigkeit, von einer Teilnahmslosigkeit, die ich bei
dem niedrigsten Tier nicht fur moglich halte. Aber das
Feuer, das ihn beseelt im Kampf um das, was er der
Menschheit erkampfen will, ward unter Millionen nur
einem verliehen! (AW III, 257)
The opposing viewpoints in these two speeches are in
teresting to consider because they illustrate Wedekind's
dual personality. More important, they indicate his use of
tragicomic self-irony; one does not know whether to laugh
or to take him seriously. Karl Guthke's remarks concerning
the artist-figure, Hetmann, seem justified. He said, "Aber
162
die tragikomische Ironie ist doch, dass er immer ein Bettler
vor den Tliren des Lebens bleiben wird" (p. 339). With ref
erence to the drama Hidalla. he explained:
[
Und vom zweiten Akt an hat Wedekind denn auch alles ge-
tan, diese Personlichkeitstragik innerhalb der Komik
der Uberspannung aufleuchten zu lassen. Hetmann wird j
jetzt der tragikomische Messias. Nicht zufallig steht
ja die Arbeit an diesem Stuck mit der Gestaltung des
Christusthemas in engstem wechselseitigem Zusammenhang.
(p. 339)
I
I
]
There are certain marked parallelisms in Konicr Nicolo
and Hidalla which are significant. Both works are self-
portraits in which the heroes, Nicolo and Hetmann, suffer
the same fate, "the curse of absurdity." Both heroes feel
that they are justified in their ideals and therefore de
serve recognition, but instead of being appreciated they
are misunderstood, ridiculed, and degraded. Like Nicolo, !
Hetmann must also assume the role of a clown. Finally, the
two plays are filled with Wedekind's long theorizing dia- j
j
logues, and the ideas contained in the lengthy speeches are
too personal and are repeated too often, with the result
that the works seem like debates.
j
Wedekind stated that Hidalla was presented 120 times ini
various cities. In his commentary, Was ich mir dabei dach-
te, he claimed that the drama was never misunderstood; it
163
found no opposition from the censor, the critic, or the
public. Every performance of Hidalla was an undisputed
success. Albert Steinriick and another actor each played the
Hetmann role twice, while Wedekind appeared 116 times.
"Alle diese Tatsachen," the author pointed out, "beweisen
unwiderleglich, wo der Widerstand gegen mein ganzes drama-
i
I
tisches Werk zu suchen ist. Im gegenwartigen Stand der j
i
I
deutschen Schauspielkunst" (GW IX, 431). These last remarks
attacked the German theatrical art of the time and show |
Wedekind's self-justification even in this short commentary.
Despite Wedekind's favorable statements about the suc
cess of Hidalla. a different opinion was expressed by Wil-
i
i
helm Herzog. He described the drama as he saw it performed
at the "Kleines Theater" in Berlin. "Man gab von seinen
schwachsten Dramen das schwachste Stuck: 'Hidalla.'" He
went on: j
|
Pur mich schwand das Theater. Ich wusste nicht, ob ich
auf einem Sessel sass, und was neben mir und um mich !
9 I
herum vorgmg. Ich sah nur diesen Menschen in all seiner I
Hilflosigkeit, ich sah das Groteske, Wirrnisvolle, Ab- j
surde seines Wesens, ich sah die Abgriinde, vor denen er \
stand— ich kam ihm menschlich unsagbar nah, und plotz- [
lich hore ich die Menschen neben mir kichern und lachen.
Ein entsetzlich trister Eindruck stieg in mir auf. Ich
hatte schreien mogen vor Hass, vor Verachtung. Der
Clown hatte seine Maske vom Gesicht gerissen, seine
Witze verpufften,— das Publikum langweilte sich. (p. 201)
164
Herzog was impressed by the performance and felt very close
to the author. When the audience began to sneer, laugh,
and act bored, Herzog suddenly felt sad and perhaps a little
embarrassed. He realized that the "clown" had actually re
moved his mask and was indeed wasting his jokes on the un
sympathetic public.
i
i
Die Zensur is Wedekind’s most deliberate defense of j
i
himself. The purpose of the work was to make his aims per
fectly clear and to achieve the more immediate goal of get
ting his Pandora released from the censors. In this Theo-
_dizee_ in einem Akt. which was written eighteen years after j
Die iunge Welt, he once again portrayed himself in the fig
ure of a harassed writer. In his commentary Wedekind ad- j
mitted that his one-act play, Die Zensur . consisted only of j
!
paraphrases and discussions of his personal theories. Not
only did this drama present his argument against censorship
i
of his misunderstood work, but it also expressed his justi-
i
ficatxon as an actor in his own plays. As he stated, "Ich
wollte dartun, dass es sich der Muhe iohnt, meine Person
auf die Buhne zu bringen" (GW IX, 435).
In the second scene Buridan defends the contents of
his Die Biichse der Pandora and requests that it be released.
He objects to Prantl's insinuation that the work is filled
165
with "schriftstellerischen Misshelligkeiten" ("literary
effrontery"). He argues, "In allem, was ich bis jetzt ge-
schrieben und veroffentlicht habe, findet sich nicht ein
Wort, das Ihnen in Wirklichkeit Grund zu Aergernis geben
konnte" ( M IV, 147).
Buridan maintains that Pandora does not have a single
I
scornful word that can offend the reader or spectator. To I
be sure, the writer's ideas must be interpreted in context? j
I
only then can one realize that Buridan has altruistic and
lofty ideals. Prantl disagrees, calls him an egotist, and
j
contends that Buridan is obsessed by evil. In his plea of
self-defense, Buridan again expresses self-pity but remains 1
|
steadfast in his conviction. I
j
i
Darin bewahrt sich der untilgbare Fluch, den ich in !
dieses Erdendasein mitbekommen habeL Was ich mit dem !
tiefsten Ernst meiner Ueberzeugung ausspreche, halten j
die Menschen fur Lasterungen. Soil ich mich nun deshalb
in Widerspruch mit meiner Ueberzeugung setzen? Soli ich
mit klarstem Bewusstsein unecht, unaufrichtig, unwahr
werden, damit die Menschen an meine Aufrichtigkeit
glauben? Um das tun zu konnen, miisste ich der Lasterer
sein, fur den mich die Menschen halten1 . (AW IV, 149)
Buridan claims that the people have misjudged his honesty
and have considered his ideas blasphemous. If he had been
insincere and had abandoned his convictions, he would then
be guilty of blasphemy.
! 166
i
At this pointj Prantl attacks Buridan's work as a
iwriter and actor and refers to his talent as 1 1 doppelziingig-
en Beruf" ("deceitful profession"). In his opinion, a
jwriter is not justified in bringing personal problems to
the theater, but should resolve them at home. The audience
pays to see the actor, but it also holds him in contempt
4
because he makes a show of himself.
j These arguments of Prantl are, of course, illogical,
i
iThe purpose of drama is to present a story involving con
flict or contrast of character. Without conflict there is
no problem and hence no drama. But Prantl*s main contention
is that "good" drama should provide entertainment and preach
morality. If this were a valid argument, the theater would
acquire the function of the church and the stage would be
come the pulpit.
If Prantl were referring only to the morality play, his
suggestion might be more logical. However, his criticism is
directed at Buridan's type of art. He maintains that the
author's works lack spiritual quality, and he continues,
^Here Prantl is defending humanity and, like Bernard
Shaw, he is the champion of the common people in their stand
; against the "dangerous" artists. For additional informa
tion concerning Prantl*s viewpoint, see Fechter, Das euro-
paische Drama . . ., II, 197.
! 167
I
j"Ihre Kunst ist die furchterlichste Gotteslasterung, die
j
iseit Jahrtausenden von einem Menschengehirn ersonnen wurdel"
(AW IV, 158). Buridan denies this accusation and claims
'that he has never written or uttered the word "Gotteslaster-
I
jung."
i
! Lassen Sie meine samtlichen Schriften vom ersten bis
zum letzten Buchstaben durchsuchen. Sie stossen nir-
| gends auf dieses Wort. Ebensowenig finden Sie irgend-
! einen Zeugen, der das Wort jemals aus meinem Munde
j gehort hat. Das Wort ist eine der zahllosen Verleumd-
i ungen, die die Zeitungsrezensenten erfanden, urn mich
J auf einige Jahre ins Gefangnis zu bringen1 . (AW IV, 159)
j
| If personal rage and antagonism toward censorship may
'be considered adequate dramatic material, then Wedekind has
unquestionably proved his point. If his purpose was to show
the trials and tribulations of a misjudged artist, he has
succeeded too. But compared to the dramatic appeal in other
works of Wedekind, Die Zensur represents the low point of
his creativity. A repetition of motifs, prejudice and
bitterness— these are his characteristics of the period from
1901 to 1908. It seems as though the "dramatist” has become
merely the "dialectician," who is making a final attempt to
prove his worth as an artist and personality. Thus, the
reader is inclined to agree with Kutscher's opinion of the
play:
168
Die "Zensur" ist nicht sowohl als Kunstwerk, vielmehr
als Lebensdokument wichtig, ein bitteres Fazit des
Verhaltnisses zu seinen Nachsten, ein schmerzlicher
Ausdruck der Verzagtheit iiber seine Kunst. Der nach-
tragliche Untertitel "Theodizee" soil wohl die Stimmung
des einsamen, in sich gewendeten Dichters bezeichnen,
ist aber nicht gerechtfertigt. ^
Georg Brandes also reproached Wedekind for the exces
sively personal nature of his last works. In a letter from
Berlin (the end of 1908 or the beginning of 1909), Wedekind
explained his position to Brandes. He stated that as long
as the police had forbidden the performance of his most
serious works, he felt justified in vindicating himself and
his efforts; above all, he would not humiliate himself. He
continued:
Die hohe Bewertung, die Sie meinen Arbeiten zuteil
werden lassen, musste mich umso mehr iiberrascheri, da
ich seit vier Jahren weiss, dass Ihnen die auffallendste
Seite meiner Produktion, die sexuelle Schamlosigkeit
durchaus unsympathetisch ist. Aber jeder Mensch hat
wohl etwas Absonderliches, das ihn vorwarts treibt, und
wird eventuell durch das Verlangen, diese Absonderlich-
keit zu begreifen, vorwarts getrieben. Ich gebe auch
ohne weiteres zu, dass ich dieser einen Absonderlich-
keit alles iibrig verdahke.®
Wedekind defended his use of "sexuelle Schamlosigkeit"
^Fr.ank Wedekind: Sein Leben und seine Werke. Ill, 46.
^Wedekind, SelbstdarsteHung, p. 76.
169
("sexual shamelessness") as a theme in many of his works.
Every artist, he claimed, had some peculiar attraction
which drove him forward, and he felt that his success had
been due largely to this theme. Prom this last statement
one might assume that the writer did not really believe in
the "moral principles" he extolled; instead, he perhaps
considered this approach a dramatic technique that could be
exploited.
Sincere or not, the public was attracted to this play
wright who, at the turn of the century, was already regarded
as a great personality. Although he proclaimed his contempt
for the spectators openly and often insulted them, they !
!
f
rushed to see his plays. His popularity increased when he |
I
appeared himself as an actor in a leading part.
1
Some dramatists have despised their publics, and often
their superior attitude is condoned or accepted by their
audiences as being indicative of lofty ideals and intellec
tual refinement. But it seems incredible that Wedekind
should have been audacious enough to claim the same super
iority as an actor. Yet he did defy the critics and even
dared to exhibit himself night after night in a leading
170
role.^
Ashley Dukes maintained that Wedekind's contempt for
"das Publikum" was real, and that his extreme animosity j
toward the theatre-going crowd brought him much adverse
criticism. Dukes claimed that criticism, favorable or un
favorable, tended to make a performer more popular and might
even help to promote his career. According to Dukes, Wede-
g
kind refused to exploit his increasing popularity.
Dukes's last remark is not entirely accurate, however,
since Wedekind did occasionally take advantage of public
i
criticism and also utilized his talent both as a playwright
and performer. This is apparent in a letter he sent to the
"Goethebund" in Dresden in 1909. The Society requested him
'Although Wedekind was not generally regarded as an
accomplished actor, he did have a special ability. In a
recent interview with Mrs. Lion Peuchtwanger, who knew
Wedekind personally, I was informed that his acting talent
consisted primarily of a dynamic delivery, clear enuncia
tion, and diction. Particularly effective was his exagger
ated trilling of the "r." He spoke too loudly and often
stepped up to the footlights in order to address the public
instead of his partner. As Lion Feuchtwanger explained,
"Er sprach scharfe, uebergangslos, gehackt, ueberartiku-
liert, ein Lehrer, der seinen Schuelern Lehrsaetze einhaem-
mert. . . . Dieser Schauspieler Frank Wedekind wird jedem
unvergesslich bleiben." See Lion Feuchtwanger, "Preface,"
in Frank Wedekind, Five Tragedies of Sex, p. 15.
^Modern Dramatists, p. 97.
171
to sing some of his own songs and ballads and to accompany
himself on the guitar. But he informed the Society and the
press that he would comply with the request only if the
Dresden censors would permit the performance of his Die
Buchse der Pandora and Totentanz. "Dann wurde ich mich
nicht einen Augenblick besinnen," he wrote, "vor den Mit-
gliedern des Goethebundes auch als Bankelsanger zu erschei-
9
nen."
Wedekind dealt with the Hamburg Literary Society in the
same manner, hoping that the Society would act favorably on
his behalf. On one occasion, the "Konigsberg Goethebund"
did permit the performance of his Fruhlincrs Erwachen. Also,
two Societies, "Der Munchener Akademische" and "Der Neue
Verein," were most helpful to him; through their support
the performance of no less than five dramas was permitted.
Oaha (1907-1908) is even more specific than Die Zensur
in its personal references, and it satirizes both society
and the critics. This four-act comedy, subtitled Die
Satire der Satire, has been called an offensive self
portraiture. The hero, a pathetic cripple, is wheeled into
the editorial rooms of the Munich comic journal, Simpli-
^Wedekind, Gesammelte Briefe. II, 218-219.
172
zissimuswhich had printed much of Wedekind's work. He is
deaf and dumb and "Oaha" is the only sound he can make, but
his wit has made the reputation of the journal. In this
work the author expresses his resentment against his one
time publisher, Albert Langen, and the co-editors of the
journal. The purpose of this drama is revenge for real or
imaginary neglect; and Wedekind, who appears as the writer,
Max Bouterweck, gave to his self-portrait the somewhat
ironical epithet "gekrankte Leberwurst.1 1 ^ Oaha dramatizes
the struggle between the publisher and the co-workers of
the satirical review, Till Eulenspiecrel. for the proceeds
and possession of the paper. The play describes the trans- i
|
fer of the paper from capitalistic to socialistic hands.
As Oaha begins, the theme is immediately presented in
a heated discussion between writer Bouterweck and his edi
tor, Sterner. Bouterweck accuses Sterner of exploiting
■^In Die iunge Welt. Wedekind used the name Meier to
attack his former friend Hauptmann. In Oaha he again used
well-known names: Albert Langen is Georg Sterner; his
father-in-law, Bjornstjerne Bjornson, appears as Ole Ole-
stierna, "poet and politician." Among the painters is Kuno
Konrad Laube, and the alliteration of the Christian names
indicates Wedekind's reference to Thomas Theodor Heine. The
writer, Dr. Kilian, who wears "krachlederne Hosen" and in
vites all the people to the church dedication, is Ludwig
Thoma.
173
writers by underpaying them for their talent. He complains,
"Sie haben mir meine vierzig besten Gedichte fur hundert
Mark abgekauft. Das macht zwei Mark funfzig pro Stuck 1"
(GW V, 147). The writer continues:
Ich habe Ihnen meine besten Erzahlungen fur Ihren
"Till Eulenspiegel" geschrieben. Sie haben sie mir
mit dreissig Mark pro Stuck honoriert, aber nun mochte
ich doch wenigstens gern den Eindruck kennen lernen,
den sie im Publikum hervorrufen. Warum veroffentlichen
Sie sie nichti Warum behalten Sie sie monatelang auf
Lager 1 Warum notigen Sie mich, nichtswurdiges Zeug
zu schreiben, das meinen Wert als Schriftsteller in der
Offentlichkeit nur herabsetzt'. Wenn Sie wussten, wie
mir diese ewige ins Uferlose Hinausrudern die Seele
vergiftet. (GW V, 149)
Bouterweck is disturbed by two factors: he does not have
enough money to live on, and he does not have the consola
tion of being known. j
In the second act, Sterner and Dr. Kilian, a phlegmatic
writer, discuss their comic journal, Till Eulensniecrel.
Good jokes are essential for the success of this journal,
but the main problem is to find someone who is capable of
writing witty and satirical remarks. Kilian's statement
that "Je tiefer der Mensch sich selbst verachten tut, urn so
bessere Witze macht er" (GW V, 179) is, of course, logical.
But this reference to self-contempt is used as an attack on
Wedekind's personality, as Kilian continues:
174
Hatte dieser Bouterweck nur nicht die hartnackige Zwangs-
vorstellung, er musste noch einrnal Achtung vor sich
selbst haben, dann konnten wir uns mit dem Menschen
vollkoinmen zufrieden geben. Leider Gottes ist er noch
nicht abgestumpft genugl Sonst tate er uns um so gott-
lichere Witze machen, je tiefer er in seinem Schlamme
versihken tut. (GW V, 180-181)
Bouterweck is described here as one who is obsessed by a
"persistent delusion" of grandeur. The inference is that
his self-respect has gradually diminished over the years
but has not yet reached its lowest point. When it does, he
will then be able to supply the best witticisms for the
journal.
Von Tichatscheck, a painter, continues the personal
criticism in his references to "Zwerge" and "Kruppel"
(dwarfs and cripples).^ He maintains that princes of the
medieval German courts often engaged such individuals as a
source of amusement. Then he makes his most satanical
statement, claiming that a person must be inferior, intel
lectually and physically, in order to furnish the best
jokes.
13-This undoubtedly alludes to Wedekind's physical ap
pearance. Not only did he have a lame foot, but he was
short and stocky in stature. This must have given him an
inferiority complex and, to a great extent, accounted for
his feeling of persecution.
Kilian's reply is even more caustic:
In erster Linie muss das Wesen, das der "Till Eulen-
spiegel" zum Witzemachen anstellt, jedenfalls fur nichts
in der Welt mehr Liebe Oder Hass empfinden. In zweiter
Linie muss das Wesen dann aber notwendig auch noch an
Gedankenflucht leiden. Das macht die Sache so ungeheuer
schwierig. i Es darf keine Ahnung davon haben, was in der
Welt zueinander gehort. Es muss die allerentferntesten
Dinge in inriigste Verwandtschaft zueinander bringen und
muss sie dann nachher alle wie Kraut und Ruben durch-
einander schmeissen. (GW V, 181)
Oaha is filled with such outbursts expressed by variou^
characters. While Sterner prepares to abscond with the
company's funds and account books, he tells his wife, Leona,
that he fears imprisonment. He argues that Bouterweck i
i
!
should go to prison, or he will spend half his life in the j
i
i
i
theater instead of writing political poems for the jour- j
12
nal. Besides, Bouterweck1s most ardent desire is to be-
i
come a martyr, and prison would seem like a fool's paradise
to him. "Er bekommt regelmassig zu essen, er braucht sich
nicht zu waschen, der Gerichtsvollzieher kann nicht zu ihm
hinein" (GW V, 184).
i
Toward the end of the third act, Bouterweck and
l^As a contributor to the liberal-satirical magazine,
Simpliz.issimus. Wedekind did, in fact, spend a term in jail
for a liberal cause in which he did not wholly believe.
Sterner argue about a new contract. The author claims that
his talent has been exploited by Sterner and, if the terms
of their agreement do not improve, he will no longer submit
i
material to the journal. In order to earn a living, Bouter-}
I
week has often been forced to let his worst poems be pub-
lished and, as a result, he has suffered humiliation in the
i
mind of the public. But since his works have now become j
|
successful, he feels justified in demanding a better con
tract .
Sie hielten mich, weil ich kein Gluck hatte, einfach
fur einen Dummkopf und verfuhren mit mir wie mit einem
Dummkopf. Sobald man Erfolg hat, ist es gar kein grosses |
Kunststiick mehr, sich seiner Haut zu wehrenl Wenn ich j
heute aufschreibe, was ich mit Ihnen alles erlebt habe, j
dann brauchen Sie sich von keinem Ihrer Kunstler mehr j
ein Familienwappen malen zu lassen! (GW V, 204) j
i
i
j
As the drama ends, the members of the editorial staff j
j
ask Oaha to indicate what position Sterner should occupy in j
the editor's office. He would like to serve as a bookkeep- |
!
er, but, following Oaha's advice, they engage him as the j
"Sitzredakteur" ("dummy editor"). At first Sterner objects,
but finally agrees to accept the assignment until something
better comes along.
i
In this comedy Wedekind criticized his generation be
cause it lacked humor, and he ridiculed the banal stupidity
177
of everything that was considered humorous at that time.
When Baron von Tichatscheck says he is afraid that the
readers of Till Eulensoieael may consider Oaha's jokes a
little childish, stale, and in bad taste, Sterner explains
that this depends entirely on the theme Oaha is given. For
example, it one hands Oaha a sensational theme, then the
jokes he makes will be surprisingly sensational even though
!
he does not utter a word. j
Wenn man ihm ein Thema stellt, dann lacht er erst eine
Weile wie besessen. Dann schreibt er seinen Witz mit
einer Kreide auf eine Schiefertafel. Fur gewohnlich
fuhrt er iibrigens ein vollig unzugangliches Traumleben.
Was wolien Sie, meine HerrenI Es ist doch nun einmal
eine anerkannte Tatsache: Je niedriger das Gemiitsleben
eines Menschen ist, urn so glanzender sind seine Witze. j
(£££ V, 200-201)
Even the name, Oaha, symbolizes the lack of understanding j
and intelligence in society. Sterner assures von Tichat-
scheck that Oaha is the best man to furnish the text for the
illustrations of the comic journal. i
j
This last statement indicates Wedekind's bitterness
toward the writing profession and his feeling of injustice
toward an editor who would hire such an individual. Kut- '
scher said, "Hier ist das Ideal von Unkenntnis der Dinge,
Zusammenhanglosigkeit, Freiheit von Liebe und Hass
178
erreicht.1 1 ^
In his attack on Sterner (Langen), Bouterweck criti
cized his egotism and accused him of taking advantage of
the weakness of individuals. He is unethical and lacks all
sense of honor, but plays the part of a philanthropist and
an apostle of peace. "Aber ihm fehlt doch die eigentliche
Grosse des Gaunertums, er ist nur ein kleiner frecher
14
Millionenmacher von Emsigkeit." Bouterweck (Wedekind)
continues:
Ich pfeife auf Ihre Tatsachen! Ich glaube nur an
Menscheni Und an Sie kann ich nicht glaubeni Waren
Sie ein geborener Betruger, dann wiisste ich mit Ihnen
zu rechnen. Sie betrugen aber nur, weil Sie zu dumm
sind, urn ehrlich handlen zu konnen. So oft Sie ver-
suchten, ehrlich zu sein, sind Sie noch immer betrogen
worden. Deshalb halten Sie Treubruch und Betrug fur
die Grundlage aller Geschafte1 . (GW V, 205)
j
i
Sterner replies that he does not care about Bouter
weck 's altruistic theories and his belief in honor and man
kind. Sterner believes only in cold and hard facts, and he
claims that he was always deceived whenever he believed in
anything else. j
^Kutscher, Frank Wedekind: Sein Leben und seine
Werke. II, 257.
^Kutscher, Frank Wedekind; . . .. II, 259.
179
In his Was ich mir dabei dachte. Wedekind explained
the reason for his intense personal feelings. He claimed
that his publisher was more interested in promoting his own
journal than in publishing books. Wedekind, on the other
hand, was far more concerned with his own dramatic works
than with his journalistic activity. "Aus diesem Wider-
spruch," he stated, "ergab sich meine stark personlich ge-
farbte Beurteilung der Hindernisse, mit denen ich j.ahrelang
zu kampfen hatte" (£W IX, 436).
An example to illustrate the importance which Sterner,
the publisher, places on materialistic values and sensation
alism is found at the beginning of the second act. In a
i
telephone conversation Sterner informs Bouterweck that the
police are searching the office of the editor of Till Eulen-
spiegel. He advises Bouterweck to go home immediately and j
burn all the letters and postcards that he has written to
him. As he hangs up he says that he hopes Bouterweck is
stupid enough to do it because this confiscation is the
most splendid business a newspaper ever had. Prepared to
i
I
embezzle all the firm's assets and flee across the border,
Sterner has no feeling of guilt as he remarks ironically:
Ich bin ein gemachter Manni Ich bin ausserdem ein
genialer Menschi Ich verdanke dieses staunenerregende
180
Geschaft ausschliesslich meiner eigenen Erfindung1 .
(GW V, 167)
A passage in which Wedekind gave vent to his personal
grievance and showed his bitterness toward society is con
tained in the long monologue of the poet and politician,
Ole Olestierna. He compliments Burry, von Tichatscheck,
and Laube on their abilities as painters and also praises
Dr. Kilian for his writing .talent. His remarks to Bouter
weck are frank and insulting; he calls Bouterweck the most
miserable actor who has ever appeared on stage and advises
him to write and to give up acting. To add insult to in
jury, Sterner continues the personal criticism and advises j
him to write a comedy that consists entirely of Till Eulen-j
i
spiegel witticisms: j
|
Haben Sie jetzt gehort, Herr Bouterweck, was Sie tun
mussen?— Wenn Sie so feurig furs Theater schwarmen, dann
schreiben Sie doch einmal ein Lustspiel, das aus nichts
als Till Eulenspiegelwitzen besteht. Jedes Wort, das in
dem Stuck vorkommt, musste ein Till Eulenspiegelwitz
seinl Der Titel des Lustspiels musste naturlich auch
"Till Eulenspiegel" lauten. Das ware die glanzendste
Reklame, die ich mir fur den "Till Eulenspiegel" wunschen
konnte i (GW V, 177)
i
Dr. Kilian makes the final sarcastic remark as he claims j
that Bouterweck does not find it easy to write as long as
he has enough money in his pocket to drink at the tavern.
181
Oaha. as well as all the other plays reviewed in this
chapter, may he called dramas of self-defense, and all of
them contain one essential theme— the artist's defense of
and apology for his own misunderstood and unpublished works.
But Wedekind's personal grievances are stressed at too great,
length in Die Zensur and Oaha and hence their dramatic value
is appreciably weakened. The concepts propounded in Die
Zensur might have been stated better in a short essay.
Since the argument contains so many opinions of the author,
it would seem that the subtitle Theodizee (theodicy) is not
completely justified. Even Wedekind must have been unde
cided about a suitable title, as he stated in his Was ich
mir dabei dachte:
Hatte ich das Kind beim rechten Namen nennen wollen,
dann hatte ich den Einakter: "Exhibitionismus" nennen
miissen Oder Selbstportrat. Die Kritik hatte mir viel-
fach den Vorwurf gemacht, dass sich meine Dramen mit
meiner eigenen Person beschaftigen. (GW IX, 435)
In Oaha. the specific concern was the mistreated writ
er; and Wedekind's counterpart, Bouterweck, finds a parallel
in Lindekuh of Musik, in Buridan of Die Zensur. and in Het-
mann of Hidalla. Common to all these characters were the
elements of self-irony and self-pity.
Oaha is also similar to Hidalla in three respects:
| 182
[both plays are filled with interminably long diatribes dur
ing which the actors develop Wedekind's philosophies and
animosities at the expense of the dramatic development of
the theme; both dramas contain that brutality toward one's
i
[fellow men which marks many of Wedekind's works; and the-
two heroes suffer from a physical deformity.
In Oaha the contributors, the editors, the manager,
i
|and the artists are all cynics who have no more regard for
ithe public than they have for one another. But the sharp
| and bitter irony which permeates the dialogue may be re
garded as the one outstanding point of the play. Max Pirker
referred to this as he remarked:
Wenn man sein "Oaha" des personlichen Anlasses ent-
kleidet, ist es die grazilste Literatursatire der
Gegenwart, den literarischen Bosheiten der Romantik
vollig ebenbiirtig.
In analyzing the drama, it would seem that Wedekind was
undecided as to who was intended to be the real hero. It
could be that the enraged and misunderstood writer, Bouter
weck, was intended to be the hero, since his suffering and
resentment at injustice are related in the lengthy
•*-5"Frank Wedekind," Osterreichische Rundschau. LV
(1918), 41.
183
discussions between him and Sterner; yet the play is named
after Oaha, the deformed creature.
Of all the self-justification dramas of Wedekind, Die
Zensur and Oaha presented the clearest and most intimate
autobiographical content of the artist image. Character
istic of both dramas are the endless arguments and counter
arguments, personal theories, philosophies, and opinions.
The two works portrayed a pathetic figure who was making a
last desperate attempt to be recognized by the literary
world. But, compared to other plays of Wedekind, Die Zensur
and Oaha should be ranked as inferior works. In Oaha. par
ticularly, nearly every page teems with the writer's desire
for revenge for real or imagined injustices. If his purpose
had been to win sympathy and pity, he has definitely suc
ceeded. But the contents of the work are not dramatic
enough to hold the interest of an audience. As Fechter
stated, "Den Theatern ist 'Oaha' von alien seinen Arbeiten
am fernsten geblieben."^ In Ude's opinion, too, the term
"drama" is almost completely inapplicable to Oaha: "Die
16Das europaische Drama . . .. II, 199.
184
Bezeichnung ’Schauspiel" ist ein Verlegenheitsausdruck. Im
ganzen gehort Oaha zu den schwachsten Stucken Wedekinds.
17
Es ist nicht ausgereift.1 1
■ ^ K u t s c h e r , Wedekind: Leben und Werk. p. 258.
CHAPTER VII
CONCLUSION
In this study I have attempted to treat the image of
the artist in the works of Frank Wedekind. Although the
writer began as a naturalistic artist, he did not show any
evidence of the social pity of the naturalists. Like many
artists, however, he observed life and tried to deal with
social conditions. As a result, his dramas stressed two
artist motifs: the artist's opposition to conventional
morality or, more precisely, middle-class morality; and the
artist's conflict with society.
During the past sixty-four years, criticism of this
dramatist's artistry and personality has been extremely
diverse. While his opponents described him as satanic and
called him a cynic, charlatan, alarmist, and egocentric,
his supporters expressed exactly opposite viewpoints. Not
only did they praise him and his talent, but they compared
him with Lenz, Buchner, Grabbe, Ibsen, and Strindberg. Many
185
186
referred to him as the prophet and forerunner of expression1
ism. There is very little difference in the opinions ex
pressed by German and Anglo-American literary historians.
It is interesting, too, that the early criticism, from 1901
to 1939, did not differ radically from the criticism of the
last twenty-five years.
Generally speaking, there is a tendency to classify
writers according to certain literary movements, calling
them classicists, romanticists, impressionists, and so
forth. In describing Wedekind, some critics have used the
words naturalist, symbolist, realist, idealist, or mystic.
According to Werner Mahrholz, Wedekind was related to Bo-
hemianism, had a thoroughly romantic character, and an im
pressionistic style. From these diverse opinions one can
readily see that it is difficult, perhaps impossible, to
identify Wedekind in terms of a definite literary school.
At the turn of the century, he was already the most
challenging German dramatist. Wedekind's revolutionary
ideas not only caused confusion among the middle class, but
eventually he became the model for such writers as Bertolt
Brecht (1898-1956)’ * ' and Friedrich Durrenmatt (1921- ).
^-It has been said that both in form and in language,
187
Wedekind's entire work was characterized by the use of in
tentionally exaggerated caricatures and incidents; and he
made effective use of the macabre which is characteristic
of some of the dramas and epic poetry of the late nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries. One of the best examples of
the "grotesque” was the concluding churchyard scene in
Fruhlincrs Erwachen. Here the realistic plane was completely
abandoned, as Melchior Gabor met his dead friend, Moritz
Stiefel. Moritz, who had committed suicide because of fail
ing in his school examination, appeared with his head under
his arm. The scene became more fantastic when Melchior was
saved from suicide by a "Masked Gentleman" in tails and top-
hat, who persuaded him to choose life as the better alterna
tive .
Wedekind did not adhere to conventional dramatic rules,
which was especially noticeable in the language and form of
his plays. The author's attempt to revolutionize natural-
Brecht shows the influence of the "Sturm und Drang" drama,
especially of Lenz, of Georg Buchner, and of Wedekind. Like
Wedekind, Brecht also had a predilection for the lower
fringes of society and a cynical "epater le bourgeois."
Brecht's Die Dreicrroschenoper (The Threepenny Opera. 1928),
a musical satire, ingeniously burlesques modern society
under the disguise of an empire ruled by gangsters. The
work is steeped in the same bitter cynicism that permeated
all Wedekind's writings.
188
istic drama in content and characters was bound to bring
about a drastic change in language, and his dramatic tech
nique in the construction of his plays obeyed no law but
his own. As a result, he vacillated between two extreme
language forms; some speeches and counterspeeches were
scarcely more than one line in length, and others were long
enough to give the effect of an endless discussion. Added
to this was his technique of "Aneinandervorbeireden,1 1 in
which the characters often spoke past one another, as if
they were alone on the stage and the words of one speaker
were not necessarily related to the remarks of another.
Presumably this strange and unknown form of conversation
made the theater directors reluctant to stage Wedekind's
dramas. The late nineteenth and early twentieth-century
public was still accustomed to the conventional stage tech
nique. It was not yet prepared for such a revolutionary
change in dialogue form. This theatrical trick, which
startled and confused the audience, undoubtedly at times
produced a humorous effect.
As time went on, however, this language technique
proved to be Wedekind's principal dramatic contribution.
In his article, "Bekenntnisse eines Plagiators," Friedrich
Durrenmatt observed that Wedekind1s language was not
189
"Papierdeutsch" ("paper German"), as many critics main
tained, but was stage German, a stage prose. Durrenmatt
claimed that Wedekind was one of the few who succeeded in
writing conversational plays without making conversation.
He called this a problem which occurred frequently in the
present day and, as an example, referred to Eliot's Cocktail
Party. Durrenmatt was sincere in his appraisal of Wedekind
and felt that the time was ripe for a new stage language.
He stated:
Da der Bruch mit dem Naturalismus nun einmal geschehen
ist, miissen wir eine neue Buhnensprache finden, doch
muss immer wieder betont werden, dass es heute keinen
allgemeinen Stil mehr geben kann, sondern nur Stile.
So wichtig auch Wedekind sein mag, die Moglichkeit in
Wedekind ist wichtiger: Es ist eine Moglichkeit der
Komodie. . . . Ich glaube nicht, dass ein heutiger ^
Komodienschreiber an Wedekind vorbeigehen kann . . .
Wedekind has been misunderstood for many years, said Durren
matt, because he has been evaluated in terms of an "obsti
nate sexual reformer." Many critics unfortunately failed
to see the comic element in Wedekind's writings; but his
^"Bekenntnisse eines Plagiators," Die Tat 1 (August 9,
1952), p. 2. It should be mentioned that Durrenmatt uses
a similar language technique but goes further. For example,
in his Die Ehe des Herrn Mississippi (19.52), as in most of
his plays, the characters frequently step out of their
parts, turning to the audience with explanatory comments.
190
Jreal importance lay in the area of comedy and present-day
!
;writers of comedies should not disregard this fact.
Wedekind also used irony in order to attack the neo-
jromantic authors. Mostly he derided their exaggerated
|sentimentality and their world of illusion, and traces of
I irony and exaggeration are found in his earliest works.
i
i
IFor example, Grubelmeier, the professor of philosophy in
i
j per Schnellmaler. was given a ridiculous description. The
j
jvery name of the professor was humorous, and Grubelmeier1s
[
Swords to introduce himself summed up all the objects of
!
irony:
Dr. Chrysostomus Grubelmeier, offentlicher Honorar-
professor fur Schopenhauerianismus? wirkliches, kor-
respondierendes und Ehrenmitglied mehrerer weltschmerz-
licher Gesellschaften; Verfasser der Xhnen zweifels-
ohne bekannten Abhandlung iiber das Massenelend, sowie
Prasident des geheimen internationalen Vereins fur
Selbstentleibung— will sagen: die allgemein anerkannt
bedeutendste gegenwartig lebende Autoritat auf dem
Gebiete des Pessimismus. (GW VII, 22)
The description of the professor, a good illustration of the
author's use of grotesque satire, is one of the finest exam
ples of Wedekind's criticism of the school-master type of
his century.
One role of the artist in naturalistic drama was that
of a social reformer. By contrast, the neoromantic artist
191
believed his only duty was to himself and to his art. Al
most all the artist figures of these literary movements
shared one viewpoint— a profound contempt for the unsympa
thetic, insensitive people who had little or no understand
ing for art and beauty.
In addition, some of Wedekind's artist-dramas expressed
a strong contempt for the "Spiessburger" (the Philistines).
In Der Kammer s anger. for example, Wedekind presented one of
his favorite themes, the contrast between the claims of art
and life. Additional themes stressed in this tragicomedy
were favorites of Wedekind: the artist has disrespect for
his society; his duty is to create a new morality; the ar
tist is a slave to his public; he has no freedom to be a
human being or a man; he lacks freedom of action because he
is bound to art by a contract; the artist is merely another
economic factor in the commerce of a nation; and society
holds the artist in contempt because he is paid for his art
and makes an exhibition of himself.
Most of the themes in Der Kammersanaer were also found
in Hidalla. but the latter placed greater stress on the
artist's right to disregard the laws of morality. The new
morality defended the artist's ideals of beauty in the ani
mal instincts. The purpose of the " society for breeding
192
human thoroughbreds" was to enhance the joy of living
through unlimited promiscuity within the society. This
society j , according to artist Hetmann (Wedekind) , should
breed perfect, strong, and independent people; ironically,
however, the central figure, Hetmann, was excluded from
membership because of a physical deformity. Despite Wede
kind's theory of a superrace, it is evident that he was not
gullible enough to believe in the realization of such an
ideal. The proof of this lies in the conclusion of the
play when, realizing the futility of his struggle, Hetmann
hangs himself.
Konig Nicolo was a counterpart to Hidalla. Again the
artist felt himself to be an exile from human society, and
the king was obliged to play the role of the jester just as
Hetmann was engaged as a circus clown. Both heroes felt
that their true worth in life remained unrecognized. Un-
!
like Hidalla. Konig Nicolo did end on a note of reconcilia
tion. Unable to prove his identity to the usurper-king,
the actor-king collapsed and died and was buried in the
royal tomb. When the usurper-king announced, "Die Geschich-
te soli von mir nicht melden, dass ich einen Konig zu meinem
Hofnarren gemacht habel" (AW III, 210), the words sounded
like a personal plea from Wedekind, who hoped that history
193
would one day recognize his real value as a dramatist.
The Marauis von Keith may be compared to Per Kammer-
sanger in some respects. The Marquis was also the central
figure of the play and, like Gerardo, the court-singer, the
Marquis used brutal intelligence to make his way in society.
Through his ruthless behavior he was able to subject women
and men to his will. Both Gerardo and the Marquis were
scoundrels in their own right and both had extremely cynical
philosophies. The Marquis was unscrupulous in his method
of collecting vast sums for his fraudulent project, the
"Feenpalast" ("Palace of Pleasure"), and when confronted by
Scholz, remarked caustically that "morality is the best
business in the world" and "sin is the mythological term
for bad business" (AW III, 34).
The two dramas were similar in their conclusions and
in the cynical comments made by the heroes. Helene, an
admirer of Gerardo, shot herself because he refused to take
her along to one of his performances, but instead of feeling
remorse, Gerardo thought only of his artistic career and
hurried off to Brussels to sing the role of Tristan (AW II,
272). The irony lay in the fact that he was bound by con
tract to sing the role of this great lover, even though he
lacked the freedom to live and love like the average man.
Molly, the wife of the Marquis von Keith, drowned her
self because he refused to live in her small hometown,
Biickeburg. Although she loved him and was ready to sacri
fice everything to make him happy, he remained apathetic
toward her. He was displeased with her suggestion to live
in a small community, and he explained that her "genuine
bourgeois love" would bore him. Keith was just as egocen
tric as Gerardo, and he, too, placed more importance on his
career than on a happy, normal life. The attitude of the
Marquis toward Molly's suicide was more ruthless than Ger
ardo's attitude toward Helene, and when Molly's body was
brought to the Marquis, he remarked cruelly that this was
the first time in his life that he had knelt and whimpered
before a woman (AW III, 110). Only for a moment did the
Marquis consider suicide, but then a gift of 10,000 marks
made his escape possible. This seemed to him to be a more
sensible solution, as he made his cynical comment that "life
is like a roller coaster" (AW III, 114), meaning that he
was now on the way to success. Although life may be filled
with obstacles, with enough determination even a swindler
can realize his dreams and ideals.
Superficially, it would seem that Wedekind was condon
ing the impostor instead of condemning him because he let
195
Keith go free. But a closer examination of his play seems
to indicate that his criticism was aimed ironically at the
materialistic society of the nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries. He was scorning a society whose moral standards
were no better than those of the impostor. For this reason
Per Marquis von Keith should be evaluated mainly on the
basis of its historical importance.
Wedekind considered this to be one of his best dramas
and he expected it to bring him widespread recognition. It
proved to have the opposite effect'. In his article written
on the hundredth birthday anniversary of Wedekind, Wolfgang
Kraus reported that the author had heard only scornful
laughter from the public during the first performance of
Per Marquis von Keith in 1901 at the Berlin Residenztheater.
At that time, the press had written a scathing denunciation
and criticism of the play. In 1905 Wedekind played the
title role under the direction of Barnowski, and in 1907
Max Reinhardt staged the work again, but still without suc
cess. Although the play was not well received at that time,
3
several years later xt dxd have a measure of success.
^Kraus, "Satire, die ihr Ziel erreichte," p. 15.
196
Durrenmatt considered Per Marquis von Keith Wedekind's
best theater drama, and he admitted that it had had an in
fluence on his own Die Ehe des Herrn Mississippi. He ex
plained that it gave him the idea of using characters as
"motifs,'' and that he learned the technique of using the
dialectic method in the development of his characters from
Wedekind.
In diesem Stuck ging mir die Moglichkeit einer Dialek-
tik mit Personen auf, da j.a der Marquis von Keith, der
eigentlich ein Proletarier ist, in Ernst Scholz, der in
Wahrheit ein Graf ist, ein genaues Spiegelbild besitzt.
Auch dies ist natiirlich nicht neu, das haben die Drama-
tiker immer angewandt, . . . Doch bei Wedekinds Marquis
von Keith zeigte sich dieser Kunstgriff eben mir be-
sonders deutlich, und damit hatte ich ein Prinzip ge-
funden, induktiv zu schreiben, und meine funf Haupt-
personen zu finden, indem ich eine aus der andern ent-
wickelte und so fort.4
As we have seen, Die Zensur presented Wedekind's de
fense against the critics who condemned his immorality, and
by means of this defense he hoped to get his Die Buchse der
Pandora released from the censors. Die Zensur was actually
made up of two parallel parts: the first may be designated
as the "Kadidja-Handlung," and the second as the "Prantl-
Handlung." The Kadidja action was concerned primarily with
^Durrenmatt, "Bekenntnisse eines Plagiators," p. 2.
I 197
i
|the description of the unhappy relationship between writer
|
■Buridan and his mistress, Kadidja. In his attempt to train
her to be his artistic partner, Buridan exercised the same
jstrict censorship that Prantl had used against his (Buri-
dan's) literary works. As Leroy R. Shaw explained, Kadidja
; sought recognition from Buridan just as Buridan wanted to be
F
jrecognised by Prantl:
I
I . . . Buridan klagt Kadidja wegen ihres Mangels an
1 Geist an, er wiederum wird von Prantl fur sein Verhaft-
i *
etsein im Sinnlichen angeklagt; Buridan halt Kadidja
fur eitel, fur exhibitionistisch, so aber sieht Prantl
Buridan auch. Und Buridan graut vor "den unbegrenzten
Moglichkeiten" des Naturwesens und sucht, das Verhalt-
nis vor Ungliick zu schutzen, indem er seinen Partner
dressiert und beherrscht; ahnlich Prantl, der Buridans
Kunst bekampft, weil sie "das Gliick der Menschheit
anfeindet," und Buridans Biihnenstucke aus Angst, "welche
Wirkung Ihre Ansichten auf den arglosen Zuschauer aus-
iiben," nicht frei geben will.5
When Kadidja finally realized that she could be of no
further use to Buridan, she leaped from the balcony and
thereby gave Buridan back his freedom. Wedekind utilized
this act of suicide to reveal his own sense of defeat. He
seemed to be confessing that love had eluded him, and the
public had misinterpreted his serious purpose in art, and
5"Bekenntnis und Erkenntnis in Wedekinds 'Die Zensur,'"
Frank Wedekind zum 100. Geburtstaa (Ed. Stadtbibliothek
Munchen, 1964), p. 29.
198
life had, therefore, had no importance.
The strongest factor in this play was Wedekind's abil
ity to keep in balance seemingly independent parallel ac
tions, through the central figure and protagonist, Buridan.
But the drama has two weaknesses that should be considered:
first, the author's personal resentment was much too em
phatic; and second, and more important, the play contained
too many of Wedekind's ideas and opinions, with the result !
that the audience and the reader never have sufficient time
to ponder all the problems. The impression that remains is
that a well-prepared philosophical debate was taking place—
a debate in which the writer finally had the opportunity to j
express all of his viewpoints. Wedekind admitted that this j
i
had been the main purpose of the work. I
j
In Oaha the personal touch was specific and has been
described as offensive. Like Hetmann in Hidalla. the hero
in Oaha had a physical deformity. Both plays were filled
with personal grievances and have been criticized for their
lack of taste and sense of form.
j
One of the main themes in Oaha was Wedekind's criticism
of Germany's contemporary materialistic society. The staff
members of the "Oaha" concern represented a cross-section
of this society, as Wedekind saw it, and they had no more
199
regard for the public than they had for one another. Their
self-centered attitude was apparent in their sharp and cut
ting speeches; and satire inherent in the play was, in fact,
its outstanding quality. Since its greater emphasis was on
the materialistic society of the late nineteenth century,
however, this work, too, should be judged primarily on the
basis of its historical significance.
The theme of the demands of art as opposed to happy,
normal living was evident in some of Wedekind's earliest
dramas. In Die ~ i uncre We It. the assistant judge, Holberg,
advised the poet, Meier, to look for happiness in "life"
and not in poetry (GW II, 54). In Der Marquis von Keith,
when the Countess Werdenfels told Scholz that many individ
uals became famous because they refrained from associating
with "commonplace" people (AW III, 67), Scholz assured her
that he enjoyed the simple things of life but that first he
i
had to accomplish his purpose in society, which was "to
serve his fellow men in a useful way." In Der Schnellmaler.
the painter, Fridolin Wald, and Pankratius Knapp, the weal
thy industrialist, discussed the problems of life. "Life's
troubles," said Fridolin, "are just as real to the artist
as they are to the industrialist. One must return to na
ture and to normal living, as that is the only way to find
200
peace of mind” (GW VII, 10-11). In this play Fridolin was
successful in selling his painting to the local art gallery
so that, at the conclusion of the play, he and Johanna Knapp
could be married and settle down to live a normal life.
Thus, Der Schnellmaler seemed to suggest that it was pos- j
I
sible for an artist to be successful and to enjoy a happy j
j
life as well. While this early dramatic experiment has been
described as inferior comedy, it does have a pleasant end
ing, a fact worth noting, since Wedekind rarely permitted
his heroes and heroines such a happy solution. j
The animalistic nature of man was evident in many of
Wedekind's works, and it was manifested in the superior j
attitude of the artist toward his fellow men. In Musik. !
' - 9 \
for instance, the egoism of the conservatory teacher paral- j
leled that of Gerardo in Der Kammersanger. For the sake of
his operatic career, Gerardo destroyed all those who would
stand in his way, and, similarly, Reissner, the voice teach
er, felt that he had the right to take advantage of his
music student, Klara Hiihnerwadel. Despite her suffering |
and her humiliation because of him, Reissner maintained a
patronizing attitude toward her, and callously requested
that she should be more cheerful and considerate of his
artistic temperament since her constant melancholia
201
affected his nerves and endangered his work. He reminded
her that, like all artists, he had a sensitive nature, and
besides, there was a limit to his patience (AW IV, 104-105).
In contrast to the egocentric Reissner, Klara repre
sented another type of artist. She was an innocent, child-[
ish victim whom fate betrayed. She regarded art as her
religion and was willing to sacrifice everything in life
for her music. She accepted all the blame for her love
affair with Reissner, fled across the border in order to
save "his honor," and even submitted to imprisonment.
Later, she changed when she realized that once again she
was to bear Reissner a child, and wanted her child to live,
because she had learned to believe that life had more value
than art. As she talks of a life of happiness through her
child and of forgetting her wonderful voice, her art, and
all the glory she had once hoped to gain, it seems that
Wedekind is trying to convince the audience that normal
living will eventually triumph over art.
Like Erdaeist and Die Buchse der Pandora. Musik con
tained too much tragedy and, as a result, the play became
highly melodramatic. It would be better, therefore, to
regard the work as an excellent satire on the social life
at the turn of the century. Although the theater audience
202
of the early 1900's was undoubtedly moved and shocked at
Klara's unhappy experiences, Musik would no longer be hor
rible to the modern spectator. Also the problems of the
play (as well as those presented in other works of Wedekind)
can no longer be considered valid for the present age. To
be sure, any audience of any generation would sympathize
with Klara, but the modern-day public would be less likely
to condone her passive behavior.
Wedekind's Franziska. the most noteworthy of his later
plays, was a female counterpart to Goethe's Faust. Like
most of Wedekind's dramas, it stressed his own relation to
life and, more specifically, emphasized his attitude toward
"woman" and her position in life. Hence, there were two
central figures in the work, Franziska, the female Faust, j
and Veit Kunz, the Mephistopheles who was an adventurer and
astronomer. Actually, Wedekind was both Franziska and Kunz,
representing both Faust and Mephistopheles.
In Franziska a different aspect of the artist theme
was presented, and, in contrast to the innocent Klara in
MusikT Franziska was the aggressor. She submitted willing
ly to a theatrical agent, Hofmiller, because she wanted to
"use" him for her own purpose. She felt that the ordinary
person merely existed but that the artist was entitled to
203
special privileges, and she wanted to experience fully the
pleasures of life.
Kunz, just as worthless as Reissner, had the same view
point about the artist's position in life. He believed that
both the voice teacher and the student were martyrs to their
profession and, therefore, that society should recognize the
artist's own type of moral behavior. He felt that'art, as j
the supreme value in life, superseded all moral standards.
If this were not so, art would be absurd (AW V, 23). "Ab
surd," however, was Kunz’s suggestion that every music les
son should end with a love affair— which was typical of many
of the exaggerations found in Wedekind's works. Strange,
i
too, is the fact that such remarks usually are not qualified
by pertinent observations or supported by any form of justi
fication, so that it is little wonder that the spectators
left the theater confused and shocked after hearing advice
of this kind from the actors. Also, this probably explains
the confusion of some of the actors who confessed to Wede
kind that they simply did not understand their roles, a
confession which must have been frustrating to the writer.
Franziska. the last of Wedekind's actual work as a
dramatist, showed the change in his views about the artist-
profession, incorporating ideas quite different from those
204
in Hida11a. Konig Nicolo. and Der Marquis von Keith. The
impression given was that Wedekind, at the age of forty-
nine, was less sentimental and more mature. He seemed to
doubt the value of his work, and, as an artist, regretted
that he had not been too successful. This change was evi
dent in a conversation between Fahrstuhl, a newspaper cor
respondent, and Breitenbach, an actor, wherein some of the
important points discussed were that the artist does not
really have a profession, like a doctor or a factory owner;
that often an artist has too many ideals and principles
which confuse him and cause restlessness and unhappiness in
life; and finally, that an artist can achieve success only
if he concentrates on one goal and avoids using his talents
in too many areas. Of all his works, Franziska presented
the clearest picture of Wedekind in his last years.
Wedekind1s attitude toward bourgeois marriage and women
seemed to have changed in Franziska. Contrary to the sordid
end that came to most of his heroes and heroines, he per
mitted Franziska to live happily with Veitralf, her child,
a happiness not granted to Klara in Musik. Also, the paint
er, Karl Aimer, declared his respect for women and told
Franziska that Kunz and Breitenbach were perturbed because
they were unable to distinguish between the demands of art
205
and a normal, happy life. This is certainly contrary to
the advice given by most of Wedekind's heroes[
The public was finally attracted to this playwright,
whose popularity increased when he appeared as an actor in
a leading part. He expected and received applause from the
very people whom his style and views outraged. His philos
ophy of life came as a "message," but, not content with por
traying reality, he distorted and overdrew it deliberately
in an attempt to convey his message. His main purpose was
to tell the truth, whether it be as a moralist, a misunder
stood artist, or a cynic.
He ridiculed the sexual taboos of the bourgeoisie and
trampled underfoot their whole moral system. As Walter H. j
Sokel remarked, "He perplexed their sensibilities, barely
!
accustomed to the Naturalist fare, by fantastic scenes,
psychological incongruities, grotesque irony, and above all
a ferociously cynical dialogue" (p. 61). But it was the
grotesqueness of situations and the quality of the Wedekind
dialogue that distinguished his plays from naturalism. He
gave all his characters, from newspaper publisher to rag
picker, the same stilted phrases and caustic epigrams which
undoubtedly outraged the naturalists. Wedekind, however,
did not attempt to present actual society on the stage. As
206
Sokel put it:
By his peculiar idiom he created a closed world similar
to the autonomous space of the Cubist or the closed
universe of Kafka and Trakl. In contrast to Kafka,
Trakl, and the Strindbergian drama, however, Wedekind
built his closed world not for the purpose of visual
izing existential situations, but for the purpose of
exaggerating and distorting social reality. Like the
figures of the Cubist, Wedekind's characters correspond
to objectively existing reality, but they are seen and
presented in their essential structure rather than in
their empirical surface appearance. (p. 61)
Social satire, then, must be regarded as one of the
real merits in Wedekind's works. Highly significant is the
form used in his works, which up to the present day has re
mained particularly interesting to the drama specialist.
As Wolfgang Kraus wrote, concerning the influence of this
dramatic form on Brecht and the Theater of the Absurd:
i
. . . denn das Bizarre, Grotesque, Kunstliche, ihr
beabsichtiger kalter Marionettenstil stehen in manchen
Szenen und Augenblicken in sehr deutlicher Vorlaufer-
schaft zum "Theater des Absurden." Auch Brecht hat
von Wedekind gelernt— die bewusste Distanz, die sich
von der Realitat sichtbar abhebende Stilisierung des
Biihnengeschehens. Das Vorstadium des "Verfremdens,"
freilich in satirischer Spielart, war von Wedekind
langst geschaffen. (p. 15)
It is worth noting that many critics have written about
the artist's theme of eroticism, have accused Wedekind of
"sexual shamelessness," and have called him "immoral." But
in his article written on the thirtieth anniversary of the
207
author's death, Martin Kessel suggested that Wedekind never
liked eroticism, regarded it as .obscene, and referred to it
as an evil in the daily order of events:
. . . so der Pluch der Lacherlichkeit ("Musik"), der
Fluch der Unnaturlichkeit (im Vorwort zur "Buchse der
Pandora"), der Fluch des Verkanntseins (im "Konig
Nicolo"), der Fluch des hollischen Triebs (im "Toten-
tanz"), der Fluch der Aufopferung (Molly im "Marquis
von Keith," die Geschwitz in "Erdgeist" und "Buchse
der Pandora"), der Fluch des Ruhmes, der die Motten
ans Licht lockt (im "Kammersanger") und schliesslich
der Fluch des Doppelgangers.
These various types of evil indicated the author's concept
of life and his own ambiguous character, so that Kessel was
justified in calling him "ein Verfechter, ein Liebhaber und
Opfer der Satanisken" (p. 223).
One must concede that as a social reformer, however,
Wedekind's views were too personal and therefore too limited,
to be effective. Evil has always existed in society in one
form or another, and Wedekind's works served mostly to em
phasize this fact. The evil he wrote about was already a
favorite theme of the naturalists. Moreover, the intense
feeling of pessimism and irony was also a vital part of
life.
6"Frank Wedekind," Aufbau. IV (1948), 224.
J
! 208
i
i
; As to Wedekind's dramatic technique, we are inclined
i
ito agree with Kurt Martens' candid appraisal. Although he
ranked Wedekind among the best dramatists, he pointed out
i
[Certain weaknesses that should not be overlooked:
f
i
| Da gibt es denn tote Stellen, Entgleisungen, Missver-
; standnisse, verkehrte Wirkungen in Masse. Und trotz
! alledem halt er seine Horer fest am Ziigel, reisst sie
immer wieder zu sich zuriick und mit sich fort, packt
sie wohl auch plotzlich, dass ihnen der Atem ausgeht,
J und tragt sie, ehe sie noch zu sich selber kommen,
iiber Abgrunde hinweg, seines Daimon in sich selbst
| gewiss.7
!
i
'These weaknesses were evident in most of Wedekind's dramas
|and, to a certain extent, in his Novellen.
In contrast to the plays, his short stories, known as
8
; Feuerwerk (1905), did not stress personal theories and
vieviipoints but were characterized by their bold obscenity.
Wedekind also wrote a number of poems, collected in Die vier
Jahreszeiten (1905), but as a lyric poet he only counts
9
historically.
7Literatur in Deutschland: Studien und Eindriicke. p .
98.
^According to Bithell, this title symbolizes the fire
of sex that lights up the collection of stories. For addi
tional comments, see Modern German Literature. 1880-195 0.
p. 58.
^A few of his songs became hits in the "Uberbrettl"
209
Wedekind's later works were little more than variations
on earlier themes and, according to some critics, this in
dicated an unmistakable weakening of his creative power.
We are justified in agreeing that another weakness was the
repetition of startling dramatic incidents and a greater
desire to moralize. His last writings, those released after
1908, consisted of five dramas: Schloss Wetterstein, Fran
ziska. Simson. Bismarck. and Herakles. With the exception
of Franziska. these plays did not add anything new to his
stature as an author.
Despite the shortcomings of Wedekind, many present-day
critics agree that he did exert an enormous influence on the
development of German drama and on the contemporary theater.
His amazing idiom and particularly his "Aneinandervorbei-
reden" technique were important for the development of the
expressionist language form. Sokel pointed out that Stern-
heim and Kaiser adopted Wedekind's type of dialogue and de
veloped it into a prominent feature of expressionism. He
continued:
In their dramas, each character, isolated in his own
theaters. The best-known ones are Der Tantenmorder. Bri
gitte B.. and Das Lied vom armen Kind.
210
current of thoughts, bombards others who never truly
answer him. All are united, however, by a language
never heard in actual life and yet remarkably expres
sive of the alienation, confusion, and hysteria charac
teristic of modern life. (p. 63)
His type of dialogue also helped to create the expressionist
dramatic style of Toller, Brecht, Sternheim, Hasenclever,
Johst, and others.
Thus Wedekind may be considered to be the outstanding
dramatic visionary of the late bourgeoisie, but he was its
product and its tragic victim as well. Partly through un
fortunate circumstances but mostly because of his own re
bellious personality, he was condemned at an early age to
play the role of the Moutsider." With the passing years
the misjudgment of the writer increased, and he was forced
to live more and more in social isolation. This certainly
accounts, in part, for the extreme autobiographical content
in his last works.
Wedekind died in a Munich hospital in 1918 at the age
of fifty-four. He had undergone a minor hernia operation,
which was successful, but he succumbed to inflammation of
the lungs which he contracted in the very cold operating
room. Even his death seemed to take an ironic turn so that
it was almost as though fate had taken its final revenge
211
on a man whose talents could have made him successful but
who let the light of his ability succumb to the inflammatory
diatribes he penned against society and its customs.
BI BL IO G RAP HY
I
i
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Asset Metadata

Creator Hovel, Ralph Martin (author)

Core Title The Image Of The Artist In The Works Of Frank Wedekind

Contributor Digitized by ProQuest (provenance)

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program German

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag Literature, Modern,OAI-PMH Harvest

Language English

Advisor Spalek, John M. (committee chair), Von Hofe, Harold (committee member), Waterman, John T. (committee member)

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c18-192578

Unique identifier UC11359747

Identifier 6605483.pdf (filename),usctheses-c18-192578 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier 6605483.pdf

Dmrecord 192578

Document Type Dissertation

Rights Hovel, Ralph Martin

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the au...

Repository Name University of Southern California Digital Library

Repository Location USC Digital Library, University of Southern California, University Park Campus, Los Angeles, California 90089, USA