What We’re Reading: Goethe and Mann
I’ll admit upfront that my knowledge of German literature in general, and the Sturm und Drang movement in particular, is sadly lacking. I’m familiar more with German drama by way of Bertolt Brecht than I am with the bibliographies of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Thomas Mann, but their respective novels The Sorrows of Young Werther (Goethe) and Lotte in Weimar: The Beloved Returns (Mann) are what I have found myself reading lately.
I began with Goethe’s The Sorrows of Young Werther, which, in effect, sparked the Sturm und Drang, or Storm and Stress, movement and eventually influenced artists of the Romantic period. Werther is perhaps more accurately described as a novella, and follows the story of a young artist who befriends and falls in love with a woman who is already engaged to another man. Goethe is still considered the backbone of German literature and, to a certain extent, German culture, so it’s no surprise that Mann used Goethe’s first famous work as a springboard when writing his own novel published in 1939.
Lotte in Weimar is a fictionalized account of the historical figure Charlotte Kestner returning to Weimar—under the pretext of visiting her sister—to see Goethe after more than 40 years. Kestner was reluctantly thrust into fame when Werther was published as she is the inspiration for the character Lotte in Werther. Smarter minds than I have pointed out the subtle anti-fascist themes in Mann’s novel, but I would take it a step further and say that by using Goethe, Mann is celebrating the history, complexity, and sensitivity of German culture, much of which is in direct contrast to the Nazi regime at the time of Mann’s writing.
Mann’s novel is composed primarily of dialogues between Kestner and the Weimar townspeople who offer different opinions and takes on Goethe’s genius. This dialogic form means Mann’s novel offers a complex portrait of a beloved man. Goethe’s novel, on the other hand, is epistolary, so we primarily receive Werther’s story as told to his friend William, occasionally interpreted or contextualized by the nameless narrator who has “compiled” the letters.
That’s not to say that Goethe’s novel isn’t complex. The reader often empathizes with Werther, even if we want to shake him for his obsession with Lotte. The difference is that Mann presents a cross-section of German opinion on a great man, rather than focusing on a single man’s opinion of himself and his circumstances. In doing so, Mann is reminding Germans and, by extension, the rest of the world, that the feats of German culture remain intact.
After Wren’s discussion of literature in translation last week, I must add that the translations I read of both Werther and Lotte were underwhelming. Both relied heavily on anachronistic language that slowed my reading and dulled the enjoyability of the stories. That language is partially a product of when the books were written, but translators can choose to streamline and interpret to a degree. I found Lotte especially difficult to read since paragraphs often continued for multiple pages.
The Sorrows of Young Werther is an important piece in Western literature, and well worth reading (though find a solid translation). Thomas Mann’s response to it is equally important for artists exploring how influence can help and hinder our work. What’s your favorite piece of literature in response to other art?
There is a newer translation of Werther that I read a couple years ago. From what I remember, though still true to the original tone, it clears up a lot of the Victorianisms. Burton Pike, I think, out from Modern Library.
It’s my aspiration to read Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus, Goethe’s Faust, and Mann’s Doctor Faustus. My knowledge of German literature is underwhelming, and I need to change that. As long as I don’t read any more Günter Grass.
Thanks for the suggestion, Patrick! I’ll try to find Pike’s translation. Let me know how your quest to read the various Faustus‘ goes!
Like Patrick (and probably even more so), my knowledge of German literature is somewhat embarrassing. I’m intrigued by your review, perhaps mostly because I am especially drawn to texts that are responses to the other. This dialogue between writers seems to be something sacred, and I’m always curious what about the original text prompted the response. Anyway, I’m rambling now. Point is: I’ll be picking up copies of these two books soon (though hopefully better translations than the ones you encountered) to add to my never-ending “Must Read” pile o’ books.
You’re right, of course, that there’s something special that happens when an author links her or himself to another author by way of response to a piece. Whole new avenues of meaning are opened up when the reader begins to explore how an author arrived at and viewed about piece of literature.
I’ve only ever read Goethe’s Faust and so I really should get around to The Woes of Young Werther.
In response to your question, my favorite derivative work (or work inspired by another… whatever) is “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead.” Very little to say about the play that doesn’t boil down to “it’s genius.”
Though I recently saw Jen Silverman’s “And Humbaba came from His Mighty House of Cedar,” a terrific reinterpretation of the Epic of Gilgamesh. It’s dark, Brechtian deconstruction of the hero myth and hysterical. I was entertained.
I have to admit—and this is terrible coming from a theatre major—that I’ve yet to read “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead,” though I’ve heard nothing but the highest of praise for it. Thanks for the input, Sam! I’ll let you know when I (finally) read Stoppard’s play!