Goethe in Detail

Even in his letters from I call his “apprentice years,” from 1768 to 1775, there are few moments in which Goethe informs us (or his addressee) of what is going on is his surroundings or of what is happening around him at a given moment. To give a sense of where I am heading, consider an exception, a letter to his friend J. Ch. Kestner dated Christmas Day of 1772. “It is still night, dear Kestner. I have risen in order to write again by the morning light, which recalls to me pleasant remembrances of past days. I have had some coffee made to honor the festival, and will write to you until it is day. The watchman has already sounded his tune; it woke me up. Praised be thou, Jesus Christ. I very much like this time of year, the songs one sings; and the cold which has set in makes me quite happy.” It suggests that he had gone to bed but has got up again while it is still dark, awakened by the clock outside striking the hours.

Frankfurt Christmas market

The news and thoughts on various matters in the succeeding paragraphs continue to be interspersed with observations about the temporal progress of the day. At one point he mentions that “the watchman has turned himself to me again, the north wind brings his melody to me as if he were blowing before my window.” A long paragraph concerning the events of the day before, including the Christmas market place in Frankfurt, is also interrupted with a mention of the arrival of the gate keepers, rattling their keys. Later we learn that the first gray of day comes to him over the house of the next-door neighbor, and “the bells call together a Christian congregation.” We then learn that he is sitting in the upper story of the family house, “much edified up here in my room, which for along time I have not liked as much as I do now.”

Raphael Heads

The succeeding reflection concerns what hangs on the wall, the “happiest pictures, which wish me a friendly good morning. Seven heads after Raphael, inspired by the living spirit, one of which I have copied, and with which I am satisfied, although not over-pleased.” After news of his sister, he writes: “The day is coming on in strength. … I must write one more page; I will act as if I did not see the daylight.” A final paragraph follows and the letter closes: “Now, adieu, it is broad daylight; God be with you as I am with you. The day has begun festively.”
 

Johann Christian Kestner

The letter resembles a scene in a novel. Not only can we picture the young man sitting at his desk in the middle of the night writing a long letter to his friend, but we see him carrying out the activity in time. We can also situate him in a city, one in which the town’s gates are closed at night and opened in the morning by men whose job it is is to open those gates. It is full of churches where one regularly hears bells at regular intervals of the day. Of course, Goethe had not yet written a novel in 1772, but it is obvious here that he can probably write one. What we have to consider is that the the idea of a novel was already incubating on this Christmas night. Kestner had written him in October informing him of the suicide of Jerusalem, which would be the germ of the novel he wrote in a matter of months two years later, in 1774, The Sorrows of Young Werther. By 1772, Goethe was already familiar with the epistolary novels of Samuel Richardson. Goethe kept reading and his literary works kept replaying inspiration he received from his reading. The things to emphasize with Goethe is that he didn’t stick with one thing.

Going back for a moment to Die Laune des Verliebten, Goethe’s early pastoral play, and to his letters at the time of his love for Käthchen Schönkopf. Yes, plenty of feeling, but, aside from scowling, again without specific detail. Did he importune her for kisses in the darkened hallway of the household, after the town crier had announced the closing of the city’s walls?  Did they hold hands? Did they ever engage in passionate kisses? Did he give her presents? The supposition, or the one I am inclined to accept, is that the only thing that happened is that he, a very smart and well-off eighteen-year-old boy, sought to be very proper but made a fool of himself in his attentions to a young woman whose job was to serve him meals. Evidence of anything lubricious or lascivious we do not have.

 I dwell on the lack of detail in these early letters, because it shows the difficulty of writing a close study of a writer who talks about himself so much, but neglects much about what is around him.

The translation of the letter to Kestner appears in Goethe's World, as Seen in Letters and Memoirs, edited by Berthold Biermann, the title of which suggests the desire to provide details of that worl.d