The "bipolar" Goethe

“Himmelhoch jauchzend, zu Tode betrübt”

Depressed or simply dysthmic?

Several years ago I reviewed in the Goethe Yearbook a "psychobigraphy" by Rainer Holm-Hadulla entitled Leidenschaft: Goethes Weg zur Kreativität. Holm-Hadulla is a professor of "psychotherapeutic medicine" at the University of Heidelberg. In my review I took exception to the application of contemporary therapeutic vocabulary to describe Goethe's mental life. I am also suspicious of attempts to draw conclusions about Goethe's pre-Weimar life from the account in Dichtung und Wahrheit, on which Holm-Hadulla relied to discuss the early years.

Jonas Kaufmann as Werther

In the end he disagrees with Kurt Eissler's diagnosis of Goethe (elements of paranoid psychosis). His analysis: "Zusammenfassend kann man sagen, dass Goethe unter leichten bis mittelschweren depressiven Schwankungen litt, die ihm Antrieb und Inhalt für künstlerische Aktivitäten gaben. Insofern ist zweifelhaft, ob man sie als krankhaft bezeichnen sollte und die Bezeichnung 'gesunde Krankheiten' nicht angemessen wäre (Carus 1842). Andere psychische Auffälligkeiten Goethes, wie leichte hysterische oder narzisstische Züge, haben niemals klinisches Ausmaß angenommen." Holm-Hadulla even suggests that modern treatment with antidepressants would have mitigated Goethe's mood swings!

I was reminded of this analysis on reading chapter 8 of Safranski's biography. (See previous post.) Safranski does not attempt to psychoanalyze Goethe. This chapter concerns the return to Frankfurt from Strassburg offers "ein Porträt des jungen Goethe," at it verifies what I have always thought, namely, that Goethe was very charismatic. Yet, something more than charisma seems to be at work. Goethe, according to Safranski, overwhelmed people. I was particular struck by a description of a visit in Gießen, in the words of one of Goethe's colleagues at the Frankfurter Gelehrten Anzeigen: "teils sitzend, teils stehend, ja einige der Gelehrten Herren standen auf Stühlen und schauten über die Köpfe ihrer Kollegen in den Kreis der Versammelten hinein, aus dessen Mitte die volle Stimme eines Mannes hervordrang, der mit begisterter Rede seine Zuhörer bezauberte." Safranski goes on to say that Goethe was compared to Jesus. On his jaunts from Frankfurt, boys and girls actually followed him. After the appearance of Götz, people called him a "Genie," sought to be near him, hung on his utterances: "Goethe zog Leute an, die ihn mit fast religiöser Inbrunst zu verehren begannen." These are only a few examples, and they made me think that Goethe may have been manic.

The many faces of Goethe (Photo dpa)

 What is interesting about the idea of mania is that Safranski retails the above in connection with Goethe's ideas about poetic inspiration circa 1772, especially in the composition of the Sturm und Drang poems. "Im Hochgefühl der poetischen Inspiration," writes Safranski, "fühlte er sich den Propheten immerhin so nahe, daß er sich in Gestalten wie Mohammed oder Abraham ganz gut einfühlen konnte, wenn sie von einem Gott ganz erfüllt waren." For Goethe the true poet, like the prophet, is inspired, serving as a medium for ideas that "overwhelm and enrapture" him. Does that sound like somewhat in the grip of a religious delusion? Safranksi does not think so, since the poet is not a proselytizer.: "Poetische Inspiration und prophetische Eingebung mögen aus derselben Quelle fließen, doch anders als der Poet will der Prophet das Göttliche, was in ihm ist, auch außer sich verbreiten." (The italicized words are from Goethe, from Dichtung und Wahrheit.) Well, maybe not, but Goethe certainly attracted his share of disciples.

Prometheus (Heinrich Fueger, 1817)

Whether Goethe was manic or simply "hypomanic" or whether he was depressive or prone to dysthmia is irrelevant, however, and also not very illuminating in connection with this Sturm und Drang spirit when he addresses his "Genius." What I find of interest is the way that Goethe has absorbed the 18th-century animadversions against the Church or "organized" religion and transforms these into poetry. For instance, despite the purity of Mohammed's original motivations, he loses his way in gaining adherents and power. Similarly, the rebellion against the Olympian deities in "Prometheus" mirrors the demise of the old order. In this respect, Voltaire, Condorcet, and others were speaking in dry philosophic terms and cannot compare with Goethe:

Ich kenn nichts ärmers/ Unter der Sonn als euch Götter./ Ihr nähret kümmerlich/ Von Opersteuern und Gebetshauch/  Eure Majestät, und darbtet wären/ Nicht Kinder und Bettler/ Hoffnungsvolle Toren.

Photo credit: Gallery Hip; Cockroachcatcher

The Invention of German Idealism

In connection with the review I am writing of Rüdiger Safranski's book on the friendship between Goethe and Schiller, I have been reading Safranski's earlier biography (2004) of Schiller, subtitled "The Invention of German Idealism." Safranski puts flesh, as it were, on philosophical ideas, breaking them down into digestible portions. Kant spoke of his "critical" apparatus as a family tree (Stammbaum), but Safranski describes it instead as a "Rococo-like music box construction of our faculties of perception and knowledge, with the various kinds of judgment attached to their respective categorical levers (thus, judgment of quality is attached to the categories of 'reality, negation, limitation')."

Kant was not the only philosopher with whom Schiller grappled, and Safranski makes a great tour of the "worldly philosophers" of the 18th century, especially the Scottish philosopher Adam Ferguson (in the portrait here by Joshua Reynolds in the NGA, London) whose Institutes of Moral Philosophy (1769) was translated by the German Enlightenment philosopher Christian Garve. Schiller's medical training as a young man greatly impressed on him the material nature of humans. Although he had "lost religion" early, he was unwilling to accept the determinism inherent in purely mechanistic or materialist philosophies as explanations for human behavior. In his youth already, he would not accept that humans did not have freedom of action or will. In his earliest attempt "to save freedom in the physiological machine," namely, in the dissertations he wrote at the end of his medical training, he posited love as a mediating power (Mittelkraft) that closed the gap (Riß) between material world and spirit.

For this "philosophy of comic love" to operate, life has to be breathed into the "machine" (i.e., the body), thereby allowing spontaneity and freedom. Schiller developed his theory of attentiveness, which, according to Safranski, led Schiller to becoming the philosopher of freedom.

In determinist theory, as Schiller learned from his reading of Ferguson, sense impressions generate conceptions, which in turn determine thinking and action. This scenario suggests that everything is causally ordered and that freedom is an illusion. "But here," writes Safranski, "begins the power of attentiveness. It is like an agile [bewegliche] ray of light, which, led by an intention, scans [abtastet] the fields of perception, fixes on something here, passes over something there; it selects, guides the processes of thinking, and gives rise to connections: in short, 'the soul has an active influence on the organ of thought.' It has this influence, because the soul is the active subject of attentiveness."

So begins, as Safranski writes, "the invention of German idealism."

Picture credits: Insashi; Gene World