S0ME RECENT GERMAN LITERATURE.
Den EINSAME Wro. By A. Scnwirzu#n. (Fischer, Berlin,
2m.)
Dra Mzisren. By H. Bann. (Fischer, Berlin, 2m.)
Diazoc vom Taaoisenzy. By H. Bann. (Fischer, Berlin, 2m.)
Das Heimassresr. By G. Fannsszn. (Grote, Berlin, 2m.)
Wananerr. By F. O. Busz. (G. Schuhr, Berlin, 3m.)
Den Prakknn von Bazireyponr. By W. v. Polznz.
(Fontane, Berlin, 2 vols., Sm.)
Das Schuarnans Hn. By C. Virnic. (E. Fleischel,
Berlin, Cm.)
HERMANN Osirn. By G. O. KNoor. (E. Fleischel, Berlin,
3m. 50p.)
Pending the renaissance of the English theatre,
enthusiasts in London might well turn their attention to thé
literary drama of Vienna. Dr. Arthur Schnitzler, its prinel¬
pal exponent, is a writer to whom the questionof“ Stateald“
is of less moment than the attainment of an artistio
purpose. That he can deal with the stage in the conventional
—i.e., the French—manner is sufficiently proved by bis
brilliant one-act plays, such as Der grüne Kakadu, orthe
later Lebendige Stunden, If he neglects the rules, as some
indigenous critics complain, in longer pieces, it is because
of a deliberate search for more adequate modes of expression.
The persons in his latest play, Der einsame Weg, speak a
Schnitzlerdialect, revealing themselves in finely chlselled
quotable language, like the people in Shakespeare, or Molière,
or Euripides. The wise, before they censure, will ask“ What
does the author intend ?“ He is obviously no realist in the
vulgar sense. His personages describe their emotions to
each other in whole pages of print, whereas introspective
persons in actual life for the most part carry on self-analysis
within their own bosoms—and hence the soliloquy is,
Frealism for realism, a better convention than the confidences
of a man to“ Charles, his friend.' Moreover, the action in
Der einsame Weg amounts to little more than a passive auffer¬
ance of the consequences of past conduct. It is a panorama,
in which flgures move across the stage, but do not meet and
clash. The title of the play doubtless gives thekey tothe
idea. The author means to give a picture of solitary lives,
and the very lack of action gives emphasis to the solitude.
In a desert, to meet and fight were better than not to meet.
It matters not then that we catch only a glimpse of certaln
of the characters as they pass. A too clear definition might
Of the two principal persons, both pleasure-seekers
(“ Geniesslinge''), the one, Julian Fichtner, seeks sensa¬
tion for its own sake, the other, Stephan von Sala, in
order to turn it to artistic account. Both find them¬
selves in middle life on a lonely road (der einsame Weg),
and fain to feed on husks. Julian reveals the secret of his
illegitimate paternity to Felix, the reputed son of Professor
Wegrath, in the hope that he may have a son’s affection to
cheer his declining years. But the young man is deaf to the
appeal of“ blood relationship. He acknowledges a debt not
to the parent to whom he owes merely his being, but to
Wegrath, who has given him a father’s care and affection all
his life. His sister Johanna, on the other hand, turns from
her actual parents and seeks satisfaction in her love for
the worn-out Sala. Gabriele, Wegrath’s wife, dies, her
former connexion with Julian unconfessed. Wegrath, the
simple, honourable man of seience, mourns the loss of
her, without suspicion of her lifelong deceit. Dr. Neu¬
mann, the family friend, another straightforward simple
person, finds it more natural to do his duty in life than to
indulge in wild adventure, but works without hope of reward
or of the affection which he desires from Johanna. The young
man Felix, the connecting link between all these solitaries,
alone seems able both to enjoy his own life, and to enter with
sympathy into the experiences of the others. The kernel of
the piece is contained in a dialogue in Act IV., in which
Julian, lamenting to Sala his inability to attach Felix to him¬
self, accuses his friend of never having loved“ a single being
on earth.“' Sala replies :—
And yon, Julian, as little as I. To love is to exist in the
world for the sake of another person. I do not say that is n desirable
condition, but in any case, I fancy, we were both far enough from it.
"Have we ever made a sacrifice from which either our senses or
our vanity did not gain some advantage? Have we ever hesitated to
betray or deceive honourable men, if we thereby could bo the richer by
ond hour of happiness or pleasure? Have we ever set our repose or our
life at stake—not out of caprice or vanity—nay, but to secure the well¬
being of a creature that had given itself to us?.. And could we
venture to demand back from a single being—man or woman—any
single thing that we had bestowed upon him? I do not menn such
things as jewelled pearl, or money, or cheap-bought wisdom, but a
piece of ourselves—an hour of our existence that we have really and
truly lost on their behalf without getting payment back for it imme¬
diately in one sort of coin or another.
—
Den EINSAME Wro. By A. Scnwirzu#n. (Fischer, Berlin,
2m.)
Dra Mzisren. By H. Bann. (Fischer, Berlin, 2m.)
Diazoc vom Taaoisenzy. By H. Bann. (Fischer, Berlin, 2m.)
Das Heimassresr. By G. Fannsszn. (Grote, Berlin, 2m.)
Wananerr. By F. O. Busz. (G. Schuhr, Berlin, 3m.)
Den Prakknn von Bazireyponr. By W. v. Polznz.
(Fontane, Berlin, 2 vols., Sm.)
Das Schuarnans Hn. By C. Virnic. (E. Fleischel,
Berlin, Cm.)
HERMANN Osirn. By G. O. KNoor. (E. Fleischel, Berlin,
3m. 50p.)
Pending the renaissance of the English theatre,
enthusiasts in London might well turn their attention to thé
literary drama of Vienna. Dr. Arthur Schnitzler, its prinel¬
pal exponent, is a writer to whom the questionof“ Stateald“
is of less moment than the attainment of an artistio
purpose. That he can deal with the stage in the conventional
—i.e., the French—manner is sufficiently proved by bis
brilliant one-act plays, such as Der grüne Kakadu, orthe
later Lebendige Stunden, If he neglects the rules, as some
indigenous critics complain, in longer pieces, it is because
of a deliberate search for more adequate modes of expression.
The persons in his latest play, Der einsame Weg, speak a
Schnitzlerdialect, revealing themselves in finely chlselled
quotable language, like the people in Shakespeare, or Molière,
or Euripides. The wise, before they censure, will ask“ What
does the author intend ?“ He is obviously no realist in the
vulgar sense. His personages describe their emotions to
each other in whole pages of print, whereas introspective
persons in actual life for the most part carry on self-analysis
within their own bosoms—and hence the soliloquy is,
Frealism for realism, a better convention than the confidences
of a man to“ Charles, his friend.' Moreover, the action in
Der einsame Weg amounts to little more than a passive auffer¬
ance of the consequences of past conduct. It is a panorama,
in which flgures move across the stage, but do not meet and
clash. The title of the play doubtless gives thekey tothe
idea. The author means to give a picture of solitary lives,
and the very lack of action gives emphasis to the solitude.
In a desert, to meet and fight were better than not to meet.
It matters not then that we catch only a glimpse of certaln
of the characters as they pass. A too clear definition might
Of the two principal persons, both pleasure-seekers
(“ Geniesslinge''), the one, Julian Fichtner, seeks sensa¬
tion for its own sake, the other, Stephan von Sala, in
order to turn it to artistic account. Both find them¬
selves in middle life on a lonely road (der einsame Weg),
and fain to feed on husks. Julian reveals the secret of his
illegitimate paternity to Felix, the reputed son of Professor
Wegrath, in the hope that he may have a son’s affection to
cheer his declining years. But the young man is deaf to the
appeal of“ blood relationship. He acknowledges a debt not
to the parent to whom he owes merely his being, but to
Wegrath, who has given him a father’s care and affection all
his life. His sister Johanna, on the other hand, turns from
her actual parents and seeks satisfaction in her love for
the worn-out Sala. Gabriele, Wegrath’s wife, dies, her
former connexion with Julian unconfessed. Wegrath, the
simple, honourable man of seience, mourns the loss of
her, without suspicion of her lifelong deceit. Dr. Neu¬
mann, the family friend, another straightforward simple
person, finds it more natural to do his duty in life than to
indulge in wild adventure, but works without hope of reward
or of the affection which he desires from Johanna. The young
man Felix, the connecting link between all these solitaries,
alone seems able both to enjoy his own life, and to enter with
sympathy into the experiences of the others. The kernel of
the piece is contained in a dialogue in Act IV., in which
Julian, lamenting to Sala his inability to attach Felix to him¬
self, accuses his friend of never having loved“ a single being
on earth.“' Sala replies :—
And yon, Julian, as little as I. To love is to exist in the
world for the sake of another person. I do not say that is n desirable
condition, but in any case, I fancy, we were both far enough from it.
"Have we ever made a sacrifice from which either our senses or
our vanity did not gain some advantage? Have we ever hesitated to
betray or deceive honourable men, if we thereby could bo the richer by
ond hour of happiness or pleasure? Have we ever set our repose or our
life at stake—not out of caprice or vanity—nay, but to secure the well¬
being of a creature that had given itself to us?.. And could we
venture to demand back from a single being—man or woman—any
single thing that we had bestowed upon him? I do not menn such
things as jewelled pearl, or money, or cheap-bought wisdom, but a
piece of ourselves—an hour of our existence that we have really and
truly lost on their behalf without getting payment back for it imme¬
diately in one sort of coin or another.
—