I

“Wer nie sein Brot mit Tränen aß”

Wer nie sein Brot mit Tränen aß,
Wer nie die kummervollen Nächte
Auf seinem Bette weinend saß,
Der kennt Euch nicht, Ihr himmlischen Mächte!

Ihr führt ins Leben uns hinein,
Ihr laßt den Armen schuldig werden,
Dann überlaßt Ihr ihn der Pein:
Denn alle Schuld rächt sich auf Erden.

“By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

II

The poem began its life not as a standalone verse but as one of several poems or songs embedded within Goethe's novel Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, but these verses then attained more fame after serving as the inspiration for numerous Lieder by a variety of composers, including but not limited to Schubert, Schumann, Liszt, and Wolf. Lawrence Kramer writes:

The lyrics from Goethe's novel Wilhelm Meister's Lehrjahren haunted more than one generation of German composers. What Friedrich Schlegel called their “music and romantic enchantment” prompted important settings from Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann, and Wolf, among others. Hugo Wolf's Wilhelm Meister songs are among his finest, but they are exceptional among this fifty-odd Goethe Lieder in one respect. Wolf ordinarily avoided setting texts by Goethe that had already been set by Schubert. The only other exceptions of this consequence are Prometheus, Ganymed, and Grenzen der Menschheit: the trilogy of songs about mortal limits that closes Wolf's Goethe collection, as the trilogy of harper songs from Wilhelm Meister opens it.

The two Wilhelm Meister novels have a different relation to “other literature” than does Goethe's Faust, but both sets of texts, along with Elective Affinities, have become types of universalized particulars, in a related term, archetypes. They are not just “examples of” (which is just a type of inductive inference, which removes the particular from an instance in favor of common traits shared by all set members) or even the “best example of” (for that is just a type of “example of”). They have a role that Goethe might have called symbolic, but that's misleading because we use the terms symbol and symbolic in a way different than did ol' JWvG. His “symbol” did not “stand in for.”

These rather vague theoretical concerns aside, it's important to note that (and how) Friedrich Schlegel found Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship especially important and dedicated an essay to it (“Über Goethes Meister”). The relevant points are that within the novel the character Wilhelm is involved in a production of Hamlet and throughout he (Wilhelm) interprets Shakespeare's work, and as Shlegel notes Goethe does not so much provide traditional literary criticism so much as re-create Hamlet in what Schlegel calls “poetic criticism.” That Goethe's (or rather, Wilhelm's) Hamlet has little to do with Shakespeare's Hamlet has been the topic of various essays.

Schlegel comes to mind because today I found myself skimming and examining parts of Frederick C. Beiser's German Idealism: The Struggle against Subjectivism, 1781–1801 (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2002), which was recently recalled on me, so I only have a few days to make use of it. F**kers.

Schlegel doesn't really make an impact until part III, after Kant and Fichte in I and II, respectively. In a sense Beiser's work is a bit of a corrective polemic, though he admits that his conclusions are, at least piece by piece, to be found elsewhere.

Despite its attractive simplicity, this interpretation of the history of German idealism is deeply problematic. In fundamental aspects it is more accurate to say the exact opposite: that the development of German idealism is not the culmination but the nemesis of the Cartesian tradition.
(Beiser 2)

In “other news”—On a German Beer Trail, One More for the Road (“Dynamic, bustling Berlin may be many things—an Old World capital of cool, the home of a vibrant literary and artistic community, Eurotrash style central—but it is not generally thought of as a city with great beer.”). I couldn't refuse Berlin content.

Also (to continue the Schlegel content): The Laboratory of Poetry: Chemistry and Poetics in the Work of Friedrich Schlegel. I remember the book (by Michael Chaouli, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 2002) from my time at the journal.

How, then, does Schlegel's theoretical “revolution” enact a paradigm shift analogous to that from alchemy to chemistry? In his essay “On Incomprehensibility” (“Über die Unverständlichkeit”) Schlegel imagines an age in which every chemist will be able to produce gold, and in which writers will accordingly be able to forge their works in a universally “comprehensible” substance.

Mmm ... tasty incomprehensibility and alchemy—the new Harry Potter novel approaches, as does the new Thor series from Marvel. Since the end of Vol. 2 of Thor resulted in the complete destruction or elimination of Asgard, this new series is a complete reboot in most regards (the return of Donald Blake, I believe, etc.):

A new Thor title is currently in production and will be written by J. Michael Staczynski (Amazing Spider-Man) and with art by Olivier Coipel (House Of M). The title will focus the return of the titular hero to a world changed by Civil War. Little information has been given but it has been stated Asgard will now be anchored to Oklahoma and Thor will once again be taking the human identity of Donald Blake.

That “quote” comes from the ever reliable Wikipedia, and the text itself was flagged due to its lack of sources, but evidence for the silly Oklahoma setting is found easily enough by way of Newsarama.

III

“Who has never eaten his bread with tears”

Who has never eaten his bread with tears,
Who has never, through night's sorrowful hours,
Sat on his bed and wept with fear,
He knows not you, you heavenly powers.

You lead us into life, and then
Your Will leads us on, into sin,
So you deliver us to pain:
On Earth all error’s paid again.

—Translated by A. S. Kline