II Goethe and Optimism
Goethe’s optimistic period—His mode of life in that period—Influence of love in artistic production—Inclinations towards the arts must be regarded as secondary sexual characters—Senile love of Goethe—Relation between genius and the sexual activities
The moral equilibrium of the great writer was not established once for all. In the course of his life, Goethe had several relapses into pessimism which, however, were ephemeral, and after which he became a man as complete and harmonious as was possible in the circumstances of his life. He reached a serene old age, and his activity did not relax until after his eightieth year, when he died.
As I have already said, Goethe realised the value of life in good time. Having become an optimist, he experienced the joy of existence and coveted as much of it as possible. When he was an old man, he declared that life, like the Sibylline books, became more valuable the fewer of them were left. There appeared in him a normal phase of human nature. The conditions under which he lived, however, were far from ideal. His health was indifferent. In his youth he suffered from severe hæmorrhage, probably tuberculous, and throughout his life he was subject to various more or less serious maladies, such as gout, colic, nephritis, and intestinal troubles. His habits were unwholesome. He was brought up in a region of vineyards, and in his youth he acquired the habit of drinking wine in quantities certainly harmful. This he himself realised, and when he was thirty-one years old, after he had acquired the instinct of life, he gave it serious attention. “I wish I could abstain from wine,” he wrote in his note-book. Some weeks later he wrote, “I now drink almost no wine.”194
But he had not the strength of character to remain temperate, and soon after his decision, he had fits of bleeding at the nose, which he attributed to “having taken some glasses of wine.”195 To his last day, he took wine regularly, and sometimes to excess. J. H. Wolff, who dined with him at Weimar, when he was in his eightieth year, was surprised by his appetite and by the quantity of wine he drank. “In addition to other food, he ate an enormous portion of roast goose, and drank a bottle of red wine.”196 In Eckermann’s interesting narrative of the last ten years of Goethe’s life (1822-1832) there is repeated mention of wine. Goethe seized every occasion to drink it. Sometimes it was the visit of a stranger, sometimes a present of some famous vintage. It was said that he drank from one to two bottles of wine daily (Moebius). None the less, he was convinced that wine was not good for intellectual work. He had remarked that when his friend Schiller had drunk more than usual, to increase his strength and stimulate his literary activity, the result was deplorable. He said to Eckermann (March 11, 1828), “He will ruin his health and will spoil his work. That is why he has made the faults the critics have pointed out.” In another conversation (March 11, 1828) he stated that what was written under the influence of wine was abnormal and forced, and ought to be deleted.
Love was the great stimulus of Goethe’s genius. The love affairs, the histories of which fill his biography, are well known. Many have been shocked by them; others have tried to justify them. It has been suggested that his disposition made it necessary for him to impart his ideas and obtain sympathy for them, and that his love for women was the expression of a purely artistic feeling and had nothing in common with the ordinary passion.
The truth is that artistic genius and perhaps all kinds of genius are closely associated with sexual activity. I agree with the proposition formulated by Dr. Moebius197 that “artistic proclivities are probably to be regarded as secondary sexual characters.” Just as the beard and some other male characters are developed as means of attracting the female sex, so also bodily strength, strong voice and many of the talents must be regarded as due to the need to fulfil the sexual relations. In primitive conditions woman worked more than man; man’s superior force served him principally in fighting with other males, the object of the combats usually being possession of a woman. Just as a victorious combatant covets the presence of a woman as witness of his prowess, so an orator speaks better in the presence of a woman to whom he is devoted. Singers and poets are stimulated in their arts by the love they awaken. Poetic genius is intimately associated with sexual power and castration inhibits it. Just as castrated animals retain their physical strength, but become changed in character, losing in particular their combative nature, so a man of genius loses much of his quality with the sexual function. Amongst the eunuchs on record, Abelard is the only poet, but Abelard was forty years old when he ceased to be a man, and at the same time he ceased to be a poet. Many singers have been eunuchs, but they have been merely executants, and have taken no part in musical creation. Some musical composers have been eunuchs, but these were of mediocre ability and their names have been forgotten. When castration has taken place at an early age, it has a much more powerful influence in modifying the secondary sexual characters.
From the point of view of a naturalist, I cannot agree with the moralists who have blamed Goethe for his sexuality, nor do I share the views of those defenders of him who have wished to deny the facts or to explain them away by the suggestion that they did not relate to sexual love.
Extracts from the Roman Elegies show quite clearly what was the nature of Goethe’s love affairs. His feelings towards the Baroness von Stein have been taken as revealing merely idealistic love. But some of his letters to her are clear evidence that their relations were erotic (Moebius, Goethe, vol. ii, p. 89). The love which he bore for Minna Herzlieb, the girl who inspired him to write Elective Affinities (Wahlverwandschaften), has been described by Goethe himself in a poem so crudely erotic that it has been impossible to publish it (Lewes, vol. ii, p. 314).
A fact to which I specially desire to call attention is that Goethe’s amorous temperament survived until the end of his life, and all the world has been astonished by the vigour of his poetic genius in extreme old age.
Goethe has been the subject of derision because at the age of seventy-four years he fell deeply in love with Ulrique de Lewetzow, who was quite a young girl. This incident, however, merits close attention as it is a typical case of senile love in a man of genius.
Whilst he was at Carlsbad, Goethe became acquainted with a pretty girl seventeen years old, with beautiful blue eyes, brown hair, and of an ardent, good-humoured and happy disposition. In the first two seasons nothing in particular happened. But in the third summer, at Marienbad, Goethe became passionately enamoured of Ulrique, who was then nineteen years old and in the full bloom of her young womanhood. His love made him young again; he passed long hours with her and took to dancing with her. “I am quite certain,” he wrote to his son, “that it is many years since I have enjoyed such health of body and mind” (Aug. 30, 1823). His passion became so serious that the Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar, on behalf of his friend, made a formal proposal of marriage for Mademoiselle de Lewetzow. The mother gave an evasive answer, and the matter rested in suspense for long, and ended in a refusal. Goethe withdrew to his family, but encountered there strong opposition to his project of marriage.
This misadventure troubled the old poet so seriously that he fell ill. He suffered from pain in the region of the heart and from profound mental disturbance. He complained to Eckermann “that he could do nothing, that he could get to work on nothing, and that his mind had lost its power.” “I can no longer work,” he said. “I cannot even read, and it is only in rare and fortunate moments that I can think, feeling myself partially soothed” (Eckermann, Nov. 16, 1823). Eckermann makes the following reflection on the state of mind of the great old man. “His trouble seems to be not merely physical. The passionate desire which he acquired for a young lady at Marienbad this summer, and against which he is still struggling, must be regarded as the chief cause of his illness” (Nov. 17, 1823).
As in all earlier crises, Goethe sought consolation in poetry and love. He left Marienbad in a carriage and began to set down verses astonishingly vigorous for so old a man. His Marienbad elegy is held to be one of the best of his poetical achievements. The following extracts will give an idea of his state of mind at that period.
“I am lost in unconquerable desire; there is nothing left but everlasting tears. Let them flow, let them flow unceasingly. But they can never extinguish the fire that burns me. My heart rages; it is torn in pieces, this heart where life and death meet in a horrible combat.” “I have lost the universe, I have lost myself, I who until now have been the favourite of the gods; they have put me to the question, they offered me Pandora, rich in treasure and still richer in perilous seductions; they made me drunken with the kisses of her mouth, which gave me its sweets; they have torn me from her arms, and have struck me with death.”
Goethe concealed his elegy for some time, guarding it as something sacred, but eventually handed it over to Eckermann. Poetic creation soothed his mind only for a time. His nature demanded some more efficacious consolation. A few weeks after the separation he began to complain bitterly of the absence of the Countess Julie von Egloffstein, whom he wanted very much. “She cannot know what she is keeping from me and what she makes me lose, nor can she know how I love her and how she engrosses my mind.” He derived a little comfort from the visits of Madame Szymanowska, whom he admired “not only as a great artist, but as a pretty woman” (Eckermann, Nov. 3, 1823). “I am deeply grateful to this charming woman,” he said to the chancellor, “for her beauty, her sweetness, and her art have soothed my passionate heart” (Bode, p. 151). He also renewed his relations with Marianne Jung, the retired actress and dancer. “When Goethe had to turn his thoughts from Ulrique, the image of the pretty owner of Gerbermühle again occupied his mind. A visit to her, and intimate correspondence with her, restored peace to his heart so greedy of love” (Bielschowsky, vol. ii, p. 487).
His devotion to Ulrique was Goethe’s last acute attack of love; but until the end of his days he felt the need of being surrounded by pretty women. As director of the theatre, he came in contact with many young women who wished engagements. He confessed to Eckermann that he required much strength of mind to resist feminine charms which tempted him to be unjustly favourable to the prettiest of those who sought employment. “If I allowed myself to fall into an intrigue of gallantry, I would become like a demagnetised needle as soon as the girl found a real lover” (Eckermann, March 22, 1825).
His daughter-in-law’s sister has related that Goethe liked to have young girls in his study whilst he was at work. They had to sit quietly, neither working nor talking, often a difficult task for them (Bode, p. 155).
Even on the last day of his life, whilst in delirium, he cried out, “What a pretty woman’s head with black curls on a black ground” (Lewes, vol. ii, p. 372). After uttering several other more or less incoherent phrases, he drew his last breath.
The facts which I described in the chapter of this book dealing with old age have made clear how long sexuality persists in men. As the testes resist atrophy better than other organs, and even in extreme old age still form active spermatozoa, it is natural that their condition should be reflected on the organism generally, and that feelings of love should still be excited. If by some accident Goethe had become a eunuch early in life, he would have been a different being. The moralists who have been shocked by his amorous intrigues would have been satisfied, but the world would have lost a great poet. Moreover, Goethe is no exceptional case amongst writers. The temperament of Victor Hugo and his devotion to women up to the end of his days are well known. More recently, after the death of Ibsen, a profound sensation was made by the revelation of his love for Mademoiselle Bardach, who inspired his genius during the last period of his life.
Not only poetic creation but other forms of genius are intimately associated with the sexual function. The philosopher Schopenhauer, who was no ascetic, wrote as follows, at the age of twenty-five, when he was in full creative activity, “In the days and at the hours when the voluptuous instinct is strongest, when it is a burning covetousness, it is then that the greatest forces of the mind and the greatest stores of knowledge are ready for the most intense activity.” “At such moments life is truly at its strongest and most active, for its two poles are then operating most actively; and this is plain in the man of the highest intelligence. In these hours one sees more than in years of passivity” (quoted in Moebius’ Schopenhauer, p. 55). “This means that in Schopenhauer intellectual creation was linked with erotic excitement” (ibid., p. 57).
It was facts of such a nature that led Brown-Séquard to his idea of strengthening cerebral activity by injections of the substance of testes. To obtain the same effect, he prescribed another means, the value of which was proved in the case of two individuals aged from forty-five to fifty years, the observations being continued over several years. “By my advice,” he said, “when these had to perform any great physical or intellectual work, they got themselves into a condition of sexual excitement.” “The testes being in this way thrown into functional activity, there was soon produced the desired increase in the power of the nerve centres.”198
Although I insist on the existence of a close relation between intellectual activity and the sexual function, I do not mean to assert that there have not existed exceptions to the rule.
Now that I have described certain important factors in the genius of Goethe, I shall pass on to a study of his state of mind in the last period of his life, the splendour and harmony of which have been so often admired.