Appendix
[From the prefatory matter prefixed to time Berlin edition, 1839, from which the present translation is made.]
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR.
The origin of “Peter Schlemihl” is to be ascribed in a great degree to circumstances that occurred in the life of the writer. During the eventful year of 1813, when the movement broke out which ultimately freed Germany from the yoke of her oppressor, and precipitated his downfall, Chamisso was in Berlin. Everyone who could wield a sword hastened then to employ it on behalf of Germany and of the good cause. Chamisso had not only a powerful arm, but a heart also of truly German mould; and yet he was placed in a situation so peculiar as to isolate him among millions. As he was of French parentage, the question was, not merely whether he should fight on behalf of Germany, but, also, whether he should fight against the people with whom he was connected by the ties of blood and family relationship. Hence arose a struggle in his breast. “I, and I alone, am forbidden at this juncture to wield a sword!” Such was frequently his exclamation; and instead of meeting with sympathy on account of his peculiar situation, he was frequently doomed to hear, in the capital of Prussia, the head-quarters of the confederation against France and Napoleon, expressions of hatred and scorn directed against his countrymen. He was himself too equitable to mistake the cause of such expressions, which were perfectly natural under the circumstances, but they nevertheless deeply afflicted him when they reached his ears. In this state of things his friends resolved to remove him from such a scene of excitement, and to place him amid the quiet scenery of the country. An asylum was offered him in the family of Count Itzenplitsch, where he was sufficiently near to become acquainted with the gradual development of the all-important crisis, and yet free from any unpleasant personal contact with it. Here, at the family-seat of Cunersdorf, scarcely a day’s journey from Berlin, wholly devoted to botany and other favourite pursuits, Chamisso conceived the idea of “Peter Schlemihl,” and with rapid pen finished off the story. Chamisso’s letters of this date (in the first volume of his Life, by the writer of this notice) afford evidence of this.
The first edition of the incomparable story appeared in 1814, with a dedication dated May 27, 1813; and it was just beginning to be known in the world at the commencement of 1815, when the author left Germany on a voyage round the world, of which the story contains a remarkable anticipation. “Peter Schlemihl” was his parting salutation to his second fatherland, and the first foundation-stone of his future fame.
Chamisso was often pestered with questions respecting what he really meant by the story of Schlemihl. These questions amused as well as annoyed him. The truth is, that his intention in writing it was perhaps scarcely of so precise a nature as to admit of his giving a formal account of it. The story sprang into being of itself, like every work of genius, prompted by a self-creating power. In a letter to the writer of this notice, after he had just commenced the story, he says, “A book was the last thing you would have expected from me! Place it before your wife this evening, if you have time; should she be desirous to know Schlemihl’s further adventures, and particularly who the man in the grey cloak is—send me back the MS. immediately, that I may continue the story; but if you do not return it, I shall know the meaning of the signal perfectly.” Is it possible for any writer to submit himself to the scrutiny of the public more good-naturedly?
In the preface to the new French translation (which appeared in 1838) of this story, Chamisso amuses himself in his own peculiar way, over the prying curiosity of those who want to know what his real object was in writing this tale:—“The present story,” he says, “has fallen into the hands of thoughtful people, who, being accustomed to read only for instruction’s sake, have been at a loss to know what the shadow signifies. On this point several have formed curious hypotheses; others, who do me the honour to believe that I am more learned than I really am, have addressed themselves to me for the solution of their doubts. The questions with which they have besieged me have made me blush on account of my ignorance. I have therefore been induced to devote myself to the investigation of a matter not hitherto the subject of my studies; and I now beg to submit to the world the result of my learned researches.
“‘Concerning Shadows.—A dark body can only be partially illuminated by a bright one. The dark space which lies in the direction of the unilluminated part is what we call a shadow. Properly speaking, shadow signifies a bodily space, the form of which depends upon the form of the illuminating body, and upon their opposite position with regard to each other. The shadow thrown on a surface, situated before the shadow-projecting body, is, therefore, nothing else than the intersection of this surface by the bodily space (in French, le solide, on which word solid the whole force of the humour turns), which we before designated by the word shadow.’
“The question in this wonderful history of Peter Schlemihl relates entirely to the last-mentioned quality, solidity. The science of finance instructs us sufficiently as to the value of money: the value of a shadow is less generally acknowledged. My thoughtless friend was covetous of money, of which he knew the value, and forgot to think on solid substance. It was his wish that the lesson which he had paid for so dearly should be turned to our profit; and his bitter experience calls to us with a loud voice, Think on the solid—the substantial!” So far Chamisso.
“Peter Schlemihl” has been translated into almost all the languages of Europe. Of the Dutch, Spanish, and Russian translations we do not possess any copies. The French and Italian are as follows:—
Pierre Schlemihl. Paris, chez Ladvocat, 1822.—This was revised by Chamisso in manuscript, who added a preface to it; but the translation was afterwards capriciously altered by the same publisher.
Un Roman du Poète Allemand contemporain, Adelbert de Chamisso; traduit par N. Martin. Histoire merveilleuse de Pierre Schlemihl. Dunquerque, 1837.—At the end the translator has added a letter to a friend, with the Greek motto, “Life is the dream of a shadow.” The translator, while laughing in this letter at the Germans, who, he says, ought to write three folio volumes of explanatory notes on the little volume, falls into the error of being very diffuse himself in the attempt to elucidate his author. His long letter concludes not inappropriately with these words: “I have just observed, although certainly rather late, that I have written a letter full of shadows, and instead of lighting a torch to illuminate the darkness, have, I fear, only deepened the gloom. Should this be the case, the reader at any rate will not withhold from me the praise of having preserved the colours of the original.”
Merveilleuse Histoire de Pierre Schlemihl. Enrichie d’une savente préface, où les curieux pourront apprendre ce que c’est que l’ombre. Paris et Nurnberg, 1838. With illustrations.—This translation was revised by Chamisso.
L’Uomo senz’ Ombra. Dono di simpatia al gentil sesso. Milano, 1838. Published as an Annual, with a Calendar, and Engravings.—The editor is pleased not only to withhold the author’s name, but manages so to word his own preface as to lead his readers to conclude that he himself is the author of the book.
“Schlemihl” was also brought on the stage, but without giving the honours of authorship to the true source. This took place at Vienna, in February, 1819. The announcement ran thus:—“Pulzlivizli, or the Man without a Shadow: a comic, enchanted drama, in three acts, adapted from De la Motte Fouqué, by Ferdinand Rosenau.” Among the characters were the grey man, and a certain Albert, probably intended for Schlemihl. Of the contents of the piece we know nothing.
In England two editions have appeared [previous to the present,—Tr.]; one of which was reprinted at Boston in 1825. Of the popularity of “Peter Schlemihl” in Great Britain we have a striking proof, from a caricature that appeared shortly after the coronation of William IV. On the celebration of this solemnity, a brother of the King—the Duke of Cumberland—arrived from the Continent to be present on the occasion; and as he was well known to be an ardent Tory, his reception on the part of the people was not of the most flattering description. As a consequence of this, and owing, perhaps, to an expression that fell from the Duke, that “popularity is only a shadow,” the caricature made its appearance. In the foreground of the print is seen a striking likeness of the royal Duke in the costume of the Order of the Garter. On his right stands the King, with the crown on his head, and reflecting a goodly shadow on the wall. Between the King and his brother are some courtiers, who exclaim, in a tone of commiseration, “Lost, or stolen, a gentleman’s shadow.” At the bottom of the print is the following inscription:—
“PETER SCHLEMIHL AT THE CORONATION.
Granted that popularity is nothing but a shadow, it is still far from pleasant to be without that shadow.”