Wilhelm Meisters Wanderjahre

Julius von Leypold, Wanderer in the Storm

My earliest work on Goethe concern the poetic production of the young, pre-Weimar Goethe. My dissertation dealt with the subject of how Goethe, like most writers of his generation, steeped in the classics and in French literature, transformed the early literary influences, especially the traditional genre of the idyll, into something new. In other words, it was about "how Goethe became Goethe" or the Goethe we know today. In recent years, I investigated his concept of world literature and published an essay on the subject, focusing on Fritz Strich's groundbreaking writings on world literature. Now I am back to the early Goethe, in this case Goethe of the early Weimar years. I have been Tweeting his diary entries for 1777. In fact, just a little over a week ago, November 7, marked Goethe's second anniversary in Weimar.

The diary entry for yesterday's date, November 14, was very long, and I Tweeted only the part that mentioned his activities for the day: a meeting of the Council, lunch with the duke, Charlotte von Stein's new apartment. But there is in the diary a long appendix to that day, which is as follows. (Again, if necessary, cut and paste into Google Translate.)

Heiliges Schicksaal du hast mir mein Haus gebaut und ausstaffirt über mein Bitten, ich war vergnügt in meiner Armuth unter meinem halbfaulen Dache ich bat dich mirs zu lassen, aber du has mir Dach und Beschräncktheit vom Haupte gezogen wie eine Nachtmütze. Las mich nun auch frisch und zusammengenommen der Reinheit geniessen. Amen. Ja und Amen winkt der erste Sonnenblick d. 14 Nov.

Acht in der Haushaltung keinen Ritz zu eng, eine Maus geht durch.

One can hear Biblical echoes here; Goethe was well steeped in the Bible. I like the homeliness of the sentiments, especially the part about the night cap. Many of the diary entries of past months have concerned household tasks, and this seems to mark progress in settling in.  Domesticity meant a lot to Goethe, his comfort in any case, and that it was succeeding so well no doubt contributed to his satisfaction with his new life there, even if at times there was dissatisfaction, which is also often expressed in the diary entries, usually in connection with his relationship with Charlotte von Stein.

Yesterday I was at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and came across the painting that is pictured at the top of this post. Its title is Wanderer in the Storm. The painting is dated 1835, a few years after Goethe's death, and the painter was Julius von Leypold. I couldn't help thinking of Goethe in his early years in Weimar when I saw Leypold's painting. (Click on image to enlarge.)

Wandering forms the backdrop to a number of 18th-century German novels. This summer, in connection with my interest in exploring Goethe's Wilhelm Meisters Theatralische Sendung, I have also read Anton Reiser by Karl Philipp Moritz, and Lebensgeschichte by Johann Heinrich Jung-Stilling. The protagonists of these novels wandered all over the place! Anton Reiser wore the soles of his shoes out walking from Hanover to Erfurt. Jung-Stilling walked back and forth from his village to one village after another in search of employment. Goethe's protagonist, Wilhelm Meister, was not quite wandering or walking. He moved about on horseback, and wherever he went there was a meal waiting for him, usually at an inn, where he met with a true vagabonds, peripatetic actors.

After reading the Ur-Meister, I decided I had to re-read the Lehrjahre. The wandering part is not so extensive in this work, and Wilhelm spends most of his time in one place or another working on his theatrical practice. The Wanderjahre, which I never thought I would re-read in this lifetime -- but I am now doing so -- is truly about Wilhelm's wanderings, and he does so on foot for the most part. The book opens with a scene of Wilhelm and his son Felix climbing a mountain path. Indeed, because of his oath to the Tower Society, he can no longer stay in one place for more than three days, so he is always on the go. The restriction is done away with by the end of Book 2, as he seems to have settled on a profession, which will probably keep him in one place. (Only one more book to go!)

Because of the lack of realism in the Wanderjahre (the final version of which appeared in 1829), one does not have the sense of the difficulties and various trials of true wandering. Wilhelm covers a large area, including Germany, Italy, and the so-called Pedagogical Province, the last a pretty big place. The in-between stages are omitted, and Wilhelm, as if on a magic carpet, simply arrives. So, the painting above does not really give an indication of Wilhelm's wanderings, although it does suggest how much the theme resonated in Germany, especially for the Romantic poets.

Image credit: Metropolitan Museum of Art;