Goethe and Marriage

 

As usual, I am caught up in many things, including an article on Goethe's 1774 play Clavigo, which I am completing (the footnotes took ages) for publication. It is not a play that we in the U.S. hear much about, and at the time of its publication there were people in Germany who didn't believe it was by Goethe. It appeared in the same year as The Sorrows of Young Werther while Götz von Berlichingen had also drawn much attention to Goethe's talent the year before. Goethe got the idea for Clavigo from an account by the French writer Pierre Beaumarchais, who is well known today for the plays The Barber of Seville and The Marriage of Figaro. Before he wrote those plays, however, before Rossini and Mozart turned them into world-famous operas, Beaumarchais had caught Goethe's attention and indeed that of many people in the year 1774 with an account entitled Mémoires contre Goezman. It concerned a trip Beaumarchais had made to Spain in 1764, during which he sought, on behalf of a French financier, to "obtain for him and thus for France the much coveted license to sell slaves to the Spanish empire, which at that time was open for purchase," in addition to seeking to establish a monopoly for a French company to trade for twenty years in Louisiana. Such was the age of the Enlightenment in France.

But there was a side purpose to his trip, namely, the attempt to rescue the honor of his younger sister Marie-Louise. This sister had been engaged to the Canary Islands native José Clavijo y Fajardo, who, having arrived with no previous reputation in Madrid, was befriended by Beaumarchais's sisters who lived there. Clavijo began publishing a weekly paper in the style of the English Spectator entitled El Pensador, and by 1763 came to be regarded as an "enlightened journalist of Madrid," and also to have succeeded in rising to the position of keeper of one of the archives of the king of Spain, which would allow him to marry the younger sister. According to Beaumarchais, "He was promised the first honourable employment at court which became vacant. He outmanoeuvred all other claimants to my sister’s hand.  . . . The wedding was held back only by the need to wait for the employment which had been promised to this author of pamphlets. At the end of a delay of six years on one side and many cares and kindnesses on the other side, the job appeared and the man vanished."

Goethe read the memoir after its publication and spent the spring of 1774 writing the play Clavigo. Clavigo in his play is not the outright scoundrel that Beaumarchais portrays in his memoir, and Goethe himself did not write a revenge tragedy. Instead, he wrote a play about an ambitious man who abandoned his promise to marry Marie because marriage stood in the way of his freedom to pursue his literary career and rise in the esteem of the world. I imagine Clavigo to have looked like the figure above in Goya's 1820 painting of Tiburcio Pérez Cuervo (1785–1841), a Spanish architect who (according to the wall label at the Metropolitan Museum of Art) was responsible for several of the institutional buildings in Madrid.

Goethe's Clavigo appears to possess charisma and good looks. He never appears in public, according to his friend Carlos, without on his arm "eine stattliche, herrliche, hochäugige Spanierin ... deren volle Brust, ihr glühenden Wangen, ihre heißen Augen die Welt ringsumher zu fragen schienen: bin ich nicht meines Begleiters wert?" The magazine Clavigo edits is well loved by women.  In the fourth act of the play Carlos tells him how astonished women in Madrid would be were he to marry Marie, who is a nobody.

This is a long way to getting around to the subject of this post: "Goethe and Marriage." It was a subject that was on Goethe's mind in 1774. He was twenty-five, had finished his legal studies in Strassburg, which was followed by an apprenticeship at the imperial court in Wetzlar (where he fell in love with Lotte Buff), and was living in the parental home in Frankfurt and taking part, if without enthusiasm, in legal work. In Book 15 of his autobiography, which concerns the year 1774, Goethe claims that his parents already had their eyes on a local girl for him to marry. The scholar H. J. Meessen has drawn attention to the number of marriages taking place around Goethe. In 1773, for instance, Lotte Buff finally became Lotte Kestner, his sister Cornelia had married. Maximiliane von la Roche was about to approach the altar. Marriage, however, must have been a vexing topic for ambitious, bourgeois men. Even Herder, after two years of writing what would be called love letters to Caroline Flachsland, took a long time wedding her, until he found a position to his liking.

 In 1775, Goethe fell in love with a young woman (she was sixteen) named Lili Schönemann. (Be careful of the Wikipedia entry: lots of errors.) The poems and letters Goethe wrote at the time reveal that his passion for her was very real, which led, according to Dichtung und Wahrheit, to their engagement. Marriage, however was ultimately doomed because of status incompatibilities between him and Lili: he was Lutheran, she Reformed. She was also from a wealthy mercantile family, with a patrician way of life, unlike inhabitants of the Goethe household. Back then, those differences did matter, and in part 4 of the autobiography, he claims it was those differences that ended the engagement. Book 4, however, also concerns his decision to accept the invitation of Duke Carl August to visit Weimar. In the article I just finished on the play Clavigo, I have drawn attention to the parallels Goethe created in his account of the relationship with Lili in the autobiography and the relationship between Clavigo and Marie Beaumarchais in Goethe's early play, in which Clavigo faces the dilemma between marriage and a courtly career. As always with Goethe's autobiography: poetry or truth?

By the way, I do not know if the above quote, attributed to Goethe, is the real thing. If anyone knows the source, please write.

 

What Goethe Saw, Anew

The previous post discussed Goethe's travels in the summer of 1774. It was still "Genius" time in 1774, but a year later things had changed, which is prefigured in the last paragraphs of Book 15 of his autobiography. His sister Cornelia had married, and he observed that his parents had their eyes on a young woman for him. At the end of the book he writes that he came upon his mother in the attic examining cradles, in one of which he had been rocked as an infant, and concludes with mysterious words concerning such "prognostics" (Vorboten) of renewed domestic activity, i.e.,  marriage. The following books of the autobiography concern the year 1775, when Goethe  became what he calls a "Bräutigam," a bridegroom. He was twenty-six, while she, Lili Schönemann, was sixteen. From all accounts (in particular the letters and poetry he wrote in that year) it was a serious love affair, if I can use that term, with all the propriety that had to be observed in the 18th century. It started in January of 1775, at an elegant party where he observed her playing the piano.

And yet the relationship was not unproblematic, and Dichtung und Wahrheit portrays the ups and downs of their attachment to one another. 1775 was an annus mirabilis  for Goethe. Not only did he fall in love, but he came into contact with Carl August, duke of Weimar, ultimately abandoning Lili and making a life-changing "career" choice. The five books of Part Four are indeed a long digression on why he did not marry. A large role is played by his decision to take time out and to travel in Switzerland. He needed time to figure things out for himself, right?

Marie zum Schnee chapel in Rigi

Although Goethe came from a socially well known family, he was bourgeois,  and also Lutheran, which most good Bürgers of Frankfurt were. He mentions frequently the difference in social registers between his family and the Schönemanns, who were a "Handelsfamilie," a prominent merchant family, who moreover were "Reformed," which was the Protestant affiliation of the Huguenots who had been chased out of France in the 17th century, many locating in German lands. Times were of course changing, people were moving up from the lower ranks to more prominent positions, but status differences remained for the most part second nature in the 18th century. Goethe was by now an attorney, with career prospects from which followed marriage and family. The Sorrows of Young Werther was the hit book of 1774, but it didn't earn enough to provide the elegance in which Lili had been raised. Besides -- and this is the larger story told in this final section of Dichtung und Wahrheit -- how would he follow his own star. Goethe was a fellow who frequently jumped out of bed in the middle of the night to jot down poems that rose up in his dreams. How would that fit in when he had a family to care for?

The first three parts of the autobiography, concerning the years of Goethe's life from his birth in 1749 until 1772, were published by 1814, but it was not until 1824 that Goethe began to plan this lengthy final part, dealing with this important year of 1775. The reason that Goethe did not write the history of the most important love experience of his life, and indeed of a turning point in his life, was because Lili Schönemann was still alive in 1814. A large part of the opening chapters of Part 4 is taken up by his jaunt to Switzerland.

 His companions on the journey from Frankfurt were the brothers Friedrich and Christian von Stolberg, a very merry pair whose extravagances in this "Genie" period are portrayed in a well-known scene in Book 20 of their skinny dipping in the rustling, refreshing streams of natural Swiss waters. The 1770s in Germany were, among a certain set of privileged young men, a kind of 1960s avant la lettre. And Goethe's Werther had inspired many of them.

On reaching Zurich, Goethe first visited his friend Lavater and was also introduced to Bodmer. I have done several blog posts on Bodmer, including this one. The man who was called a "patriarch" of German literature lived on a hill overlooking the old town, his house (left) providing a gorgeous view of the surrounding mountains. (Go here for a lovely picture of the gardens of the Bodmer house and a bit more history of the house.) It was also in Zurich that Goethe met up with a Frankfurt friend who was living there, Jacob Ludwig Passavant, and abandoned the Stolbergs to undertake with him a hiking tour of Switzerland's beautiful mountains, valleys, lakes, and forests.

Einsiedeln Abbey

One of the first places they visited, following in the wake of a line of singing and praying Catholic pilgrims who were heading there, was Saint Mary's Hermitage (Marie Einsiedeln). You would not know from Goethe's description how large the hermitage is, and he does not remark at all on the magnificent Baroque interior of the church, but he does write that he was impressed with a copperplate engraving by Martin Schongauer (below) depicting the death of Mary (and which he later acquired a copy of).

They continued on what Goethe describes as a toilsome journey, often springing from ledge to ledge and climbing down steep valleys. They were filled with awe at the immense valleys and towering mountains. They climbed the Rigi, where they came upon the chapel pictured above: "Marie zum Schnee." At such heights they often found themselves in the clouds, which opened up now and then to reveal, photo-like changing scenes. They made it to Altdorf, where Tell shot the apple from his son's head.

 Reaching the pass that led south to Italy, Passavant suggested they traveled southward, but Goethe refrained. As he writes, his existence at that point still centered on Lili, and so they began their descent by the path with which they came. Goethe writes that his friend was disappointed, and for a while kept his distance,  until the sight of a glorious waterfall made them pause and admire it, which brought them back together again. See my earlier post on this important moment on the Gotthard Pass and on Goethe's later trip there with the Duke Carl August a few years later.

J.M.W. Turner, The Devil's Bridge

 Image credits: Quagga Illustrations; The Curious Historian