FOOTNOTES:

Travels to India and Persia—Olearius and his Work—Progress of Persian Studies—Roger—India's Language and Literature remain unknown—Oriental Influence in German Literature.

Little can be said of Oriental influence on German poetry during the next three centuries after the Great Age of Discovery, and in an investigation like the one in hand, which confines itself to poetry only, this chapter might perhaps be omitted. Nevertheless a brief consideration of this influence on German literature in general during this period forms an appropriate transition to the time when the Oriental movement in Germany really began.

After the Portuguese had sailed around Africa, direct and uninterrupted communication with the far East was established. Portuguese, Dutch, French and English merchants appeared successively on the scene to get their share of the rich India commerce. German merchants also made a transitory effort. The firm of the Welsers in Augsburg sent two representatives who accompanied the expedition of Francisco d' Almeida in 1505 and that of Tristão da Cunha in the following year. But conditions were not favorable and the attempt was not renewed.49

Travels to India and Persia now multiplied rapidly, and accounts of such travels became very common; so common, in fact, that already in the sixteenth century collections of them were made, the best known being theNovus Orbisof Grynaeus, and the works of Ramusio and Hakluyt. Among the more famous travellers of the sixteenth century we may mention Barthema, Federici, Barbosa, Fitch and van Linschoten for India, and the brothers Shirley for Persia. In the seventeenthcentury we may cite the names of della Valle, Baldaeus, Tavernier, Bernier and the German Mandelslo for India, while those of Olearius and Chardin are most famous in connection with Persia. And that books of travel were much read in Germany is attested by the number of editions and translations which appeared there. Thus among the earliest books printed there we have a translation of Marco Polo (Nuremberg), 1477,50reprinted repeatedly, e.g. at Augsburg, 1481, in theNovus Orbis, 1534 (Latin version), at Basle, 1534 (German translation of the preceding), while Mandeville's memoirs were so popular as to become finally aVolksbuch.51

The account of Olearius is of special interest to us. It gives an excellent description of Persia, and above all it gives us valuable information on the literature and language. Olearius is struck by the similarity of many Persian words to corresponding words in German and Latin, and hints at the kinship of these idioms, though, looking only at the vocabulary and not at the structure, he supposes Persian to be related to Arabic.52He tells us of the high esteem in which poetry was held by the Persians, and notices that rhyme is an indispensable requisite of their poetic art. He also mentions some of their leading poets, among them Saʻdī,Hāfiḍ, Firdausī and Niḍāmī.53

But what interests us most is the translation which he made of theGulistān, published in 1654, under the title ofPersianischer Rosenthal. True, it was not the first in point of time. As early as 1634 du Ryer had published at Paris an incomplete French version, and shortly afterwards this version was translated into German by Johann Friedrich Ochsenbach of Tübingen, but apparently without attracting much notice.54In 1644, Levin Warner of Leyden had given the Persian text and Latin version of a number of Saʻdī's maxims,55while Gentius hadpublished the whole text with a Latin translation at Amsterdam in 1651. But it was the version of Olearius that really introduced theGulistānto Europe.

The edition of Olearius, from which we have cited, contains also a translation of theBūstān, calledDer Persianische Baumgarten, made, however, not directly from the Persian, but from a Dutch version. Besides this, the edition contains also the narratives of two other travellers, Jürgen Andersen and Volquard Iversen, as well as an account of Persia by the French missionary Sanson. Iversen, in speaking of the Parsi religion, gives an essentially correct account of the Zoroastrian hierarchy, of the supreme god and his seven servants, each presiding over some special element, evidently an allusion to Ahura Mazda and his six Amesha Spentas, with the possible addition of Sraosha.56Sanson states that theGavreshave kept up the old Persian language and that it is entirely different from modern Persian,57a distinct recognition of the existence of the Avestan language. The eighteenth century saw the discovery of theAvestaby Anquetil du Perron, and its close found men like Jones, Revizky, de Sacy and Hammer busily engaged in spreading a knowledge of Persian literature in Europe.

India, as far as its literature was concerned, did not fare so well. The struggles of European nations for the mastery of that rich empire did little towards promoting a knowledge of its religion or its language. Nor were the efforts of missionaries very successful. Most of their attention was devoted to the Dravidian idioms of Southern India, not to Sanskrit. We have the authority of Friedrich Schlegel for the statement that before his time there were but two Germans who were known to have gained a knowledge of the sacred language, the missionary Heinrich Roth and the Jesuit Hanxleben.58Even their work was not published and was superseded by that of Jones, Colebrooke and others. Most valuable information on Hindu religion was given by the Dutch preacher Abraham Roger in his well known bookDe Open-Deure tot het Verborgen Heydendom,published at Leyden in 1651, two years after the author's death. This book also gave to the West the first specimen of Sanskrit literature in the shape of a Dutch version of two hundred maxims of Bhartṛhari, not a direct translation from the Sanskrit, but based on oral communication imparted by a learned Brahman Padmanaba.59As a rule the rendering is very faithful, sometimes even literal. The maxims were translated into German by C. Arnold and were published at Nuremberg in 1663.

This, however, ended the progress of Sanskrit literature in Europe for the time being. Information came in very slowly. TheLettres Édifiantesof the Jesuits, and the accounts of travellers like Sonnerat began to shed additional light on the religious customs of India, but its sacred language remained a secret. In 1785, Herder wrote that what Europe knew of Hindu literature was only late legends, that the Sanskrit language as well as the genuine Vēda would probably for a long time remain unknown.60Sir William Jones, however, had founded the Asiatic Society a year before and the first step towards the discovery of Sanskrit had really thus been taken.

But let us consider what bearing all this had on German poetry. In this field the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were desperately dreary. In the former century the leading thinkers of Germany were absorbed in theological controversy, while in the next the Thirty Years' War completely crushed the spirit of the nation. There is little poetry in this period that calls for even passing notice in this investigation. Paul Fleming, although he was with Olearius in Persia, has written nothing that would interest us here. Andreas Gryphius took the subject for his drama "Catharina von Georgien" (1657) from Persian history. It is the story of the cruel execution of the Georgian queen by order of Shāh ʻAbbās in 1624.61Nor is Oriental influence in the eighteenth century more noticeable. Occasionally an Oriental touch is brought in. Pfeffel makes his "Bramine" read a lesson to bigots; Matthias Claudius in his well-known poem makes Herr Urian pay a visit to the Great Mogul; Bürger, in his salacious storyof the queen of Golkonde, transports the lovers to India; Lessing, in "Minna von Barnhelm" (Act i. Sc. 12) represents Werner as intending to take service with Prince Heraklius of Persia, and he chooses an Oriental setting for his "Nathan der Weise."

In the prose writings of this period Oriental influence is much more discernible. In the literature dealing with magic Zoroaster always played a prominent part. The invention of the Cabala was commonly ascribed to him.62European writers on the black art, as for instance Bodinus, whoseDe Magorum Dæmonomaniawas translated by Fischart (Strassburg, 1591), repeat about Zoroaster all the fables found in classical or patristic writers. So the Iranian sage figures prominently also in the Faust-legend. He is the prince of magicians whose book Faust studies so diligently that he is called a second Zoroastris.63This book passes into the hands of Faust's pupil Christoph Wagner, who uses it as diligently as his master.64

In all this folkbook-literature India is a mere name. Thus in the oldest Faust-book of 1587 the sorcerer makes a journey in the air through England, Spain, France, Sweden, Poland, Denmark, India, Africa and Persia, and finally comes toMorenland.65

Of all the prose-writings, however, the novel, which began to flourish luxuriously in the seventeenth century, showed the most marked tendency to make use of Eastern scenery and episodes, and incidentally to exhibit the author's erudition on everything Oriental. Thus Grimmelshausen transports his hero Simplicissimus into Asia through the device of Tartar captivity. Lohenstein, in his ultra-Teutonic romance of Arminius, manages to introduce an Armenian princess and a prince from Pontus. The latter, as we learn from the autobiography with which he favors us in the fifth book, has been in India. He took with him a Brahman sage, who burned himself on reaching Greece. EvidentlyLohenstein had read Arrian's description of the burning of Kalanos (Arrian vii. 2, 3). TheAsiatische Baniseof Heinrich Anselm von Ziegler-Kliphausen, perhaps the most popular German novel of the seventeenth century, was based directly on the accounts of travellers to Farther India, not on Greek or Latin writings.66Other authors who indulged their predilection for Oriental scenery were Buchholtz in hisHerkules und Valisca(1659), Happel inDer Asiatische Onogambo(Hamb. 1673), Bohse (Talander) inDie durchlauchtigste Alcestis aus Persien(Leipz. 1689) and others.67

The most striking instance of the Oriental tendency is furnished by Grimmelshausen'sJoseph, first published probably in 1667.68Here we meet the famous story of Yūsuf and Zalīχā as it is given in theQurānor in the poems of Firdausī and Jāmī. The well-known episode of the ladies cutting their hands instead of the lemons in consequence of their confusion at the sight of Joseph's beauty is here narrated at length.69In the preface the author states explicitly that he has drawn, not only from the Bible, but from Hebrew, Arabic and Persian writings as well.70That he should have made use of Arabic material is credible enough, for Dutch Orientalists like Golius and Erpenius had made this accessible.71That he had some idea of Persian poetry is shown by his allusions to the fondness of Orientals for handsome boys.72On the other hand, what he says of Zoroaster in theMusaican all be found in Latin and Greek writers.73Here we get the biography of Joseph's chief servant in the form of an appendix to the novel, and the author displays all the learning which fortunately his good taste had excluded from the story itself. Of the Iranian tradition concerning Zoroaster's death as given in the Pahlavī writings or theShāh Nāmah74Grimmelshausen knew absolutely nothing; nor can we find the slightest evidence to substantiate his assertionthat for the work in question he drew from Persian or Arabic sources.

In the eighteenth century the Oriental tale was extremely popular in France, and thence it spread to other countries. The translation of the Thousand and One Nights by Galland (Paris, 1704-1712) and of the Persian Tales by Pétis de La Croix called into being a host of similar French productions, which in turn found their way into German literature. The most fruitful writer in this genre was Simon Gueulette, the author ofSoirées Bretonnes(1712) andMille et un quart d'heures(1715). The latter contains the story of a prince who is punished for his presumption by having two snakes grow from his shoulders. To appease them they are fed on fresh human brain.75Of course, we recognize at once the story of the tyrant Ẕaẖẖāk familiar from Firdausī. The material for theSoiréeswas drawn largely from Armeno'sPeregrinaggio, which purports to be a translation from the Persian, although no original is known to scholars.76From theseSoiréesVoltaire took the material for hisZadig.77In most cases, however, all that was Oriental about such stories was the name and the costume. So popular was the Oriental costume that Montesquieu used it for satirizing the Parisians in hisLettres Persanes(1721). Through French influence the Oriental story came to Germany, and so we get such works as August Gottlob Meissner's tales ofNushirvan,Massoud,Giaffar,Sadiand others,78or Klinger'sDerwisch. Wieland used the Eastern costume in hisSchach Lolo(1778) and in his politico-didactic romance of the wise Danischmende. This fondness for an Oriental atmosphere continues even into the nineteenth century and may be seen in such works as Tieck'sAbdallahand Hauff'sKarawane. But this brings us to the time when India and Persia were to give up their secrets, and when the influence of their literature begins to be a factor in the literature of Europe.

FOOTNOTES:49See Kunstmann, Die Fahrt der ersten Deutschen nach dem portugiesischen Indien in Hist. pol. Blätter f. d. Kath. Deutschl., München, 1861, vol. 48, pp. 277-309.50For title see Panzer, Annalen d. älteren deutsch. Litt., Nürnb. 1788.51See Grässe, op. cit. ii. 2. pp. 773, 774.52Des Welt-berühmten Adami Olearii colligirte und viel vermehrte Reise-Beschreibungen etc., Hamb. 1696, chap. xxv.53Ibid. chap. xxviii. p. 327 seq.54Olearius, op. cit., Preface to the Rosenthal. Full title of Ochsenbach's book in Buch der Beispiele, ed. Holland, p. 258, n. 1.55Proverbiorum et Sententiarum Persicarum Centuria, Leyden, 1644. In the preface the author says that he undertakes his work, "cum e genuinis Persarum scriptis nihil hactenus in Latinam linguam sit translatum."56Iversen in op. cit. chap. xi. p. 157 seq. Cf. Jackson, Die iranische Religion in Grdr. iran. Ph. iii. pp. 633, 634, 636.57Sanson in op. cit. pp. 48, 49.58Fr. Schlegel, Weisheit der Indier, Heidelb. 1808, Vorrede, p. xi.59See preface to op. cit.60Ideen zur Phil. d. Gesch. der Menschheit, chap. iv. ed. Suphan, vol. 13, p. 415.61The story is given in Chardin's book, though this was not the source. See Andreas Gryphius Trauerspiele, ed. Herm. Palm, BLVS. vol. 162, pp. 138, 139.62See Zoroasters Telescop oder Schlüssel zur grossen divinatorischen Kabbala der Magier in Das Kloster ed. J. Scheible, Stuttg. 1846, vol. iii. p. 414 seq., esp. p. 439.63Widmann's Faust in Das Kloster, vol. ii. p. 296; Der Christlich Meynende, ibid. ii. p. 85.64Christoph. Wagners Leben, ibid. vol. iii. p. 78.65Ibid. ii. p. 1004.66Ed. by Felix Bobertag, KDNL. vol. 37, Einl. p. 8.67On this see Felix Bobertag, Gesch. des Romans und der ihm verwandten Dichtungsgattungen in Deutschland, Bresl. 1876, vol. ii. 2. pp. 110 seq., 140, 160.68In Der abenteuerliche Simplicissimus ed. Adalb. Keller, Stuttg. 1862 (BLVS. vol. 66), vol. iv. pp. 707 seq.69Op. cit. pp. 759, 760.70Ibid, p. 710; again p. 841.71The Story of Joseph from the Qurān was published in Arabic with a Latin version by Erpenius as early as 1617. See Zenker, Bibl. Orient., Leipz. 1846, vol. i. p. 169, No. 1380.72Keller, op. cit. p. 742.73See Jackson, Zoroaster, Appendix V (by Gray).74See Jackson, Zoroaster, pp. 127-132.75Rud. Fürst, Die Vorläufer der Modernen Novelle im achtzehnten Jahrhundert, Halle a. S. 1897. p. 51.76Some of the stories are undoubtedly Oriental in origin. The work appeared at Venice, 1557, and was translated into German, in 1583, by Johann Wetzel under the title Die Reise der Söhne Giaffers. Ed. by Herm. Fischer and Joh. Bolte (BLVS, vol. 208), Tüb. 1895.77Fürst, op. cit. p. 52. The name is derived from the Arabic صد يق "speaker of the truth," as pointed out by Hammer in Red. p. 326. See essay L'ange et l'hermite by Gaston Paris in La Poésie du Moyen Age, Paris, 1887, p. 151.78Fürst, op. cit. p. 154.

49See Kunstmann, Die Fahrt der ersten Deutschen nach dem portugiesischen Indien in Hist. pol. Blätter f. d. Kath. Deutschl., München, 1861, vol. 48, pp. 277-309.

50For title see Panzer, Annalen d. älteren deutsch. Litt., Nürnb. 1788.

51See Grässe, op. cit. ii. 2. pp. 773, 774.

52Des Welt-berühmten Adami Olearii colligirte und viel vermehrte Reise-Beschreibungen etc., Hamb. 1696, chap. xxv.

53Ibid. chap. xxviii. p. 327 seq.

54Olearius, op. cit., Preface to the Rosenthal. Full title of Ochsenbach's book in Buch der Beispiele, ed. Holland, p. 258, n. 1.

55Proverbiorum et Sententiarum Persicarum Centuria, Leyden, 1644. In the preface the author says that he undertakes his work, "cum e genuinis Persarum scriptis nihil hactenus in Latinam linguam sit translatum."

56Iversen in op. cit. chap. xi. p. 157 seq. Cf. Jackson, Die iranische Religion in Grdr. iran. Ph. iii. pp. 633, 634, 636.

57Sanson in op. cit. pp. 48, 49.

58Fr. Schlegel, Weisheit der Indier, Heidelb. 1808, Vorrede, p. xi.

59See preface to op. cit.

60Ideen zur Phil. d. Gesch. der Menschheit, chap. iv. ed. Suphan, vol. 13, p. 415.

61The story is given in Chardin's book, though this was not the source. See Andreas Gryphius Trauerspiele, ed. Herm. Palm, BLVS. vol. 162, pp. 138, 139.

62See Zoroasters Telescop oder Schlüssel zur grossen divinatorischen Kabbala der Magier in Das Kloster ed. J. Scheible, Stuttg. 1846, vol. iii. p. 414 seq., esp. p. 439.

63Widmann's Faust in Das Kloster, vol. ii. p. 296; Der Christlich Meynende, ibid. ii. p. 85.

64Christoph. Wagners Leben, ibid. vol. iii. p. 78.

65Ibid. ii. p. 1004.

66Ed. by Felix Bobertag, KDNL. vol. 37, Einl. p. 8.

67On this see Felix Bobertag, Gesch. des Romans und der ihm verwandten Dichtungsgattungen in Deutschland, Bresl. 1876, vol. ii. 2. pp. 110 seq., 140, 160.

68In Der abenteuerliche Simplicissimus ed. Adalb. Keller, Stuttg. 1862 (BLVS. vol. 66), vol. iv. pp. 707 seq.

69Op. cit. pp. 759, 760.

70Ibid, p. 710; again p. 841.

71The Story of Joseph from the Qurān was published in Arabic with a Latin version by Erpenius as early as 1617. See Zenker, Bibl. Orient., Leipz. 1846, vol. i. p. 169, No. 1380.

72Keller, op. cit. p. 742.

73See Jackson, Zoroaster, Appendix V (by Gray).

74See Jackson, Zoroaster, pp. 127-132.

75Rud. Fürst, Die Vorläufer der Modernen Novelle im achtzehnten Jahrhundert, Halle a. S. 1897. p. 51.

76Some of the stories are undoubtedly Oriental in origin. The work appeared at Venice, 1557, and was translated into German, in 1583, by Johann Wetzel under the title Die Reise der Söhne Giaffers. Ed. by Herm. Fischer and Joh. Bolte (BLVS, vol. 208), Tüb. 1895.

77Fürst, op. cit. p. 52. The name is derived from the Arabic صد يق "speaker of the truth," as pointed out by Hammer in Red. p. 326. See essay L'ange et l'hermite by Gaston Paris in La Poésie du Moyen Age, Paris, 1887, p. 151.

78Fürst, op. cit. p. 154.

Herder's Interest in the Orient—Fourth Collection of his Zerstreute Blätter—His Didactic Tendency And Predilection For Saʻdī.

The epoch-making work of the English Orientalists, and above all, of the illustrious Sir William Jones, at the end of the eighteenth century not only laid the foundation of Sanskrit scholarship in Europe, but also gave the first direct impulse to the Oriental movement which in the first half of the nineteenth century manifests itself so strikingly both in English as well as in German literature, especially in the work of the poets. In Germany this movement came just at the time when the idea of a universal literature had taken hold of the minds of the leading literary men, and so it was very natural that the pioneer and prophet of this great idea should also be the first to introduce into German poetry the newwest-östliche Richtung.

Herder's theological studies turned his attention to the East at an early age. As is well known, he always had a fervid admiration for the Hebrew poets, but we have evidence to show, that, even before the year 1771, when Jones'Traité sur la poésie orientaleappeared, he had widened the sphere of his Oriental studies and had become interested in Saʻdī.79Rhymed paraphrases made by him of some stories from theGulistāndate from the period 1761-1764,80and, as occasional references prove, Saʻdī continued to hold his attention until the appearance, in 1792, of the fourth Collection of theZerstreute Blätter, which contains the bulk of Herder's translation from Persian and Sanskrit literature, and which therefore will have to occupy our attention.81

Of this collection the following are of interest to us: 1°. Four books of translations, more or less free, of maxims from theGulistān, entitledBlumen aus morgenländischen Dichtern gesammlet. 2°. Translations from the Sanskrit consisting of maxims from theHitōpadēśaand from Bhartṛhari and passages from theBhagavadgītāunder the name ofGedanken einiger Bramanen. 3°. A number of versions from Persian, Sanskrit, Hebrew and Arabic poets given in the Suphan edition asVermischte Stücke.

The first three books of theBlumenconsist entirely of maxims from theGulistān, the versions of Gentius, or sometimes of Olearius, being the basis, while the fourth book contains also poems from Rūmī,Hāfiḍ and others (some not Persian), taken mostly from Jones' well knownPoeseos.82For theGedankenour poet made use of Wilkins' translation of theHitōpadēśa(1787) and of theBhagavadgītā(1785), together with the German version of Bhartṛhari by Arnold from Roger's Dutch rendering.

As Herder did not know either Sanskrit or Persian, his versions are translations of translations, and it is not surprising if the sense of the original is sometimes very much altered, especially when we consider that the translations on which he depended were not always accurate.83In most cases, however, the sense is fairly well preserved, sometimes even with admirable fidelity, as in "Lob der Gottheit" (Bl.i. 1), which is a version of passages from the introduction to theGulistān. No attention whatever is paid to the form of the originals. For the selections from Saʻdī the distich which had been used for the versions from the Greek anthology is the favorite form. Rhyme, which in Persian poetry is an indispensable requisite, is never employed.

The moralizing tendency which characterizes all of Herder's work, and which grew stronger as he advanced in years,rendered him indifferent to the purely artistic side of poetry. He makes no effort in his versions to bring out what is characteristically Oriental in the original; on the contrary, he often destroys it. Thus his "Blume des Paradieses" (Bl.iv. 7 =H. 548) is addressed to a girl instead of a boy. The fourth couplet is accordingly altered to suit the sense, while the last couplet, which according to the law governing the construction of the Persianγazalcontained the name of the poet, is omitted. So also in "Der heilige Wahnsinn" (Verm.6 =Gul.v. 18, ed. Platts, p. 114) the characteristic Persian phrase

از دريچهء چشم مجنون بجمال ليلی بايستی مطالعه کردن"It is necessary to survey Laīlā's beauty from the window of Majnūn's eye"

از دريچهء چشم مجنون بجمال ليلی بايستی مطالعه کردن

"It is necessary to survey Laīlā's beauty from the window of Majnūn's eye"

appears simply as "O ... sieh mit meinen Augen an."

This exclusive interest in the purely didactic side induced Herder also to remove the maxims from the stories which in theGulistānorHitōpadēśaserved as their setting. So they appear simply as general sententious literature, whereas in the originals they are as a rule introduced solely to illustrate or to emphasize some particular point of the story. Then again a story may be considerably shortened, as in "Die Lüge" (Bl.ii. 28 =Gul.i. 1), "Der heilige Wahnsinn" (see above). To atone for such abridgment new lines embodying in most cases a general moral reflection are frequently added. Thus both the pieces just cited have such additions. In "Verschiedener Umgang" (Ged.3 = Bhart.Nītiś.67; Böhtl. 6781) the first three lines are evidently inspired by the last line of the Sanskrit proverb:prāyēṇā 'dhamamadhyamōttamaguṇaḥ saṃsargatō jāyatē"in general the lowest, the middle and the highest quality arise from association," but they are in no sense a translation.

What we have given suffices to characterize Herder as a translator or adapter of Oriental poetry. His Eastern studies have scarcely exerted any influence on his original poems beyond inspiring some fervid lines in praise of India and its dramatic art as exhibited inŚakuntalā,84which had just then(1791) been translated by Forster into German from the English version of Sir William Jones. Unlike his illustrious contemporary Goethe he received from the East no impulse that stimulated him to production. His one-sided preference for the purely didactic element rendered him indifferent to the lyric beauty ofHāfiḍ and caused him to proclaim Saʻdī as the model most worthy of imitation.85Yet it wasHāfiḍ, the prince of Persian lyric poets, the singer of wine and roses, who fired the soul of Germany's greatest poet and inspired him to write theDivan, and thusHāfiḍ became the dominating influence and the guiding star of thewest-östliche Richtungin German poetry.

FOOTNOTES:79See the edition by Meyer (KDNL. vol. 74) i. 1. pp. 164, 165.80Given by Redlich in the edition by Suphan, vol. 26, p. 435 seq.81We may state here that the work in question has been thoroughly commented on by such scholars as Düntzer and Redlich, and their comments may be found in the editions of Suphan and Meyer. The same has been done for Goethe's Divan by Düntzer and Loeper. The former's notes are in his Goethe-edition in the Kürschner-series, the latter's in the edition of Hempel. In this investigation, therefore, the chapters on Herder and Goethe are somewhat briefer than they otherwise would be, as further details as to sources, etc., are easily accessible in the editions just mentioned. In all cases, however, the Sanskrit or Persian originals of the passages cited have been examined.82Poeseos Asiaticae commentariorum libri vi, publ. at London, 1774. Reprinted by Eichborn at Leipzig, 1777.83Compare, for instance. Hit. couplet 43 = Böhtl. 3121 with the rendering of Wilkins in Fables and Proverbs from the Sanskrit, London, 1888 (Morley's Univ. Lib.), pp. 41, 42. And then compare with Herder's Zwecke des Lebens (Ged. 15).84Indien, ed. Suphan, vol. 29, p. 665.85"An Hafyz Gesängen haben wir fast genug; Sadi ist uns lehrreicher gewesen." Adrastea vi. ed. Suphan, vol. 24, p. 356.

79See the edition by Meyer (KDNL. vol. 74) i. 1. pp. 164, 165.

80Given by Redlich in the edition by Suphan, vol. 26, p. 435 seq.

81We may state here that the work in question has been thoroughly commented on by such scholars as Düntzer and Redlich, and their comments may be found in the editions of Suphan and Meyer. The same has been done for Goethe's Divan by Düntzer and Loeper. The former's notes are in his Goethe-edition in the Kürschner-series, the latter's in the edition of Hempel. In this investigation, therefore, the chapters on Herder and Goethe are somewhat briefer than they otherwise would be, as further details as to sources, etc., are easily accessible in the editions just mentioned. In all cases, however, the Sanskrit or Persian originals of the passages cited have been examined.

82Poeseos Asiaticae commentariorum libri vi, publ. at London, 1774. Reprinted by Eichborn at Leipzig, 1777.

83Compare, for instance. Hit. couplet 43 = Böhtl. 3121 with the rendering of Wilkins in Fables and Proverbs from the Sanskrit, London, 1888 (Morley's Univ. Lib.), pp. 41, 42. And then compare with Herder's Zwecke des Lebens (Ged. 15).

84Indien, ed. Suphan, vol. 29, p. 665.

85"An Hafyz Gesängen haben wir fast genug; Sadi ist uns lehrreicher gewesen." Adrastea vi. ed. Suphan, vol. 24, p. 356.

Enthusiasm for Śakuntalā—Der Gott und die Bajadere; Der Paria—Goethe's Aversion for Hindu Mythology—Origin of the Divan—Oriental Character of the Work—Inaugurates the Oriental Movement.

InWahrheit und Dichtung(B. xii. vol. xxii. p. 86) Goethe tells us that he first became acquainted with Hindu fables through Dapper's book of travel,86while pursuing his law studies at Wetzlar, in 1771. He amused his circle of literary friends by relating stories of Rāma and the monkeyHanneman(i.e. Hanuman), who speedily won the favor of the audience. The poet himself, however, could not get any lasting pleasure from monstrosities; misshapen divinities shocked his aesthetic sense.

The first time that Goethe's attention was turned seriously to Eastern literature was in 1791, when, through Herder's efforts, he made the acquaintance of Kālidāsa's dramatic masterpieceŚakuntalā, which inspired the well known epigram "Willst du die Blüte des frühen," etc., an extravagant eulogy rather than an appreciative criticism. That the impression was not merely momentary is proved by the fact that five years later the poet took the inspiration for hisFaustprologue from Kālidāsa's work.87Otherwise it cannot be said that the then just awakening Sanskrit studies exercised any considerable influence on his poetic activity. For his two ballads dealing with Indic subjects, "Der Gott und die Bajadere" and "Der Paria", the material was taken, not from works of Sanskrit literature, but from a book of travel. The former poem was completed in 1797, though the idea was taken as early as1783 from a German version of Sonnerat's travels, where the story is related according to the account of Abraham Roger88inDe Open-Deure. There the account is as follows: "'t Is ghebeurt ... dat Dewendre, onder Menschelijcke ghedaente, op eenen tijdt ghekomen is by een sekere Hoere, de welcke hy heeft willen beproeven of sy oock ghetrouw was. Hy accordeert met haer, ende gaf haer een goet Hoeren loon. Na den loon onthaelde sy hem dien nacht heel wel, sonder dat sy haer tot slapen begaf. Doch 't soude in dien nacht ghebeurt zijn dat Dewendre sich geliet of hy stierf; ende storf soo sy meynde. De Hoere die wilde met hem branden, haer Vrienden en konde het haer niet afraden; de welcke haer voor-hielden dat het haer Man niet en was. Maer nadien dat sy haer niet en liet gheseggen, soo lietse het yver toestellen om daer in te springen. Op't uyterste ghekomen zijnde, ontwaeckte Dewendre, ende seyde, dat hy hem hadde ghelaten doot te zijn, alleenlijck om te ondervinden hare trouwe; ende hy seyde haer toe, tot een loon van hare ghetrouwigheyt, dat sy met hem na Dewendrelocon (dat is een der platsen der gelucksaligheyt) gaen soude. Ende ghelijck den Bramine seyde, ist alsoo gheschiet."89

It will be seen that Goethe has changed the story considerably and for the better. How infinitely nobler is his idea of uniting the maiden with her divine lover on the flaming pyre from which both ascend to heaven! It may also be observed that Goethe substitutes Mahādēva, i.e. Śiva, for Dewendre90and assigns to him an incarnation, though such incarnations are known only of Viṣṇu.

The "Paria," a trilogy consisting of "Gebet," "Legende" and "Dank des Paria," was begun in 1816, but not finished until December, 1821. Even then it was not quite complete. The appearance of Delavigne'sLe Pariaand still more of Michael Beer's drama of the same name, spurred Goethe to a final effort and the poem was published in October, 1823.

The direct source is the legend which Sonnerat tells of the origin of the Paria-goddess Mariatale.91Indirectly, however, the sources are found in Sanskrit literature. Two parts may be distinguished: The story of the temptation and punishment, and the story of the interchange of heads.92The former story is that of the ascetic Jamadagni and his wife Rēṇukā, who was slain by her son Rāma at the command of the ascetic himself, in punishment for her yielding to an impure desire on beholding the prince Citraratha. Subsequently at the intercession of Rāma she is again restored to life through Jamadagni's supernatural power. The story is inMahābhārataiii. c. 116 seq.93and also in theBhāgavata Purāṇa, Bk. ix. c. 16,94though here the harshness of the original version is somewhat softened.95

The second story is found in theVētālapañcaviṃs'ati, being the sixth of the "twenty-five tales of a corpse-demon," which are also found in the twelfth book of theKathāsaritsāgara.96It relates how Madanasundarī, whose husband and brother-in-law had beheaded themselves in honor of Durgā, is commanded by the goddess to restore the corpses to life by joining to each its own head, and how by mistake she interchanges these heads.

The two stories were fused into one and so we get the legend in the form in which Sonnerat presents it. Goethe followed this form closely without inventing anything. He did, however, put into the poem an ethical content and a noble idea. Both the Indic ballads are a fervent plea for the innate nobility of humanity.

Here the influence of India on Goethe's work ends. The progress of Sanskrit studies could not fail to excite the interest of the poet whose boast was his cosmopolitanism,97butthey did not incite him to production. For India's mythology, its religion and its abstrusest of philosophies he felt nothing but aversion. Especially hateful to him were the mythological monstrosities:

Und so will ich, ein für allemal,Keine Bestien in dem Göttersaal!Die leidigen Elephantenrüssel,Das umgeschlungene Schlangengenüssel,Tief Urschildkröt' im Weltensumpf,Viel Königsköpf' auf einem Rumpf,Die müssen uns zur Verzweiflung bringen,Wird sie nicht reiner Ost verschlingen.98

Goethe classed Indic antiquities with those of Egypt and China, and his attitude towards the question of their value is distinctly expressed in one of his prose proverbs: "Chinesische, Indische, Aegyptische Altertümer sind immer nur Curiositäten: es ist sehr wohl gethan, sich und die Welt damit bekannt zu machen; zu sittlicher und aesthetischer Bildung aber werden sie uns wenig fruchten."99

After all, Goethe's Orient did not extend beyond the Indus. It was confined mainly to Persia and Arabia, with an occasional excursion into Turkey.

To this Orient he turned at the time of Germany's deepest political degradation, when the best part of its soil was overrun by a foreign invader, and when the whole nation nerved itself for the life and death struggle that was to break its chains. The aged poet shrank from the tumult and strife about him and took refuge in the East. The opening lines of the first Divan poem express the motive of this poeticalHegire.

The history of the composition of theDivanis too well known to require repetition. It is given with great detail in the editions prepared by von Loeper and Düntzer.100Suffice it to say that the direct impulse to the composition of the work was the appearance, in 1812, of the first complete version of Persia's greatest lyric poetHāfiḍ, by the famous Viennese Orientalist von Hammer. The bulk of the poems were writtenbetween the years 1814 and 1819,101although in the work as we now have it a number of poems are included which arose later than 1819 and were added to the editions of 1827 and 1837.102

The idea of dividing the collection into books was suggested by the fact that two ofHāfiḍ's longer poems bear the titles مغنی نامه، ساقی نامه, i.e. "book of the cup-bearer" and "book of the minstrel," as well as by the seven-fold division which Sir William Jones had made of Oriental poetry.103For the heroic there was no material, nor were some of the other divisions suitable for Goethe's purpose. So only theBuch der Liebeand theBuch des Unmuts(to correspond to satire) could be formed. Other books were formed in an analogous manner until they were twelve in number. The poet originally intended to make them of equal length, but this intention he never carried out, and so they are of very unequal extent, the longest being that ofSuleika(53 poems) and the shortest those of Timur and of the Parsi (two poems each).

The great majority of the Divan-poems are not in any sense translations or reproductions, but entirely original compositions inspired by the poet's Oriental reading and study. The thoroughness and earnestness of these studies is attested by the explanatory notes which were added to theDivanand were published with it in 1819,104and which show conclusively, that, although Goethe could not read Persian poetry in the original, he nevertheless succeeded admirably in entering into its spirit.

We have mentioned Hammer's translation ofHāfiḍ as the direct impulse to the composition of theDivan. It was also the principal source from which the poet drew his inspiration for the work. A single verse would often furnish a theme for a poem. Sometimes this poem would be a translation, e.g. "Eine Stelle suchte der Liebe Schmerz," p. 54 (H. 356. 8); but more often it was a very free paraphrase, e.g. the motto prefixed toBuch Hafis, a variation of the motto to Hammer'sversion (H. 222. 9). As an example of how a single verse is developed into an original poem we may cite "Über meines Liebchens Äugeln," p. 55, where the first stanza is a version ofH. 221. 1, all the others being free invention. Other Persian poets besidesHāfiḍ also furnished material. Thus the opening passage of Saʻdī'sGulistānwas used for "Im Athemholen," p. 10, where the sense, however, is altered and the line "So sonderbar ist das Leben gemischt" is added. A number of poems are based on thePand Nāmahof ʻAṭṭār, e.g. pp. 58, 60,105and two are taken from Firdausī, namely "Firdusi spricht," p. 75 (Sh. N. i. p. 62, couplet 538; Mohl, i. 84; Fundgruben. ii. 64) and "Was machst du an der Welt?" p. 96 (Sh. N. i. p. 482, coupl. 788, 789;Red.p. 58). But it was not only the poetical works of Persia that were laid under contribution; sayings, anecdotes, descriptions, remarks of any kind in books of travel and the like were utilized as well. Thus Hammer in the preface to his version ofHāfiḍ relates thefatvāor judgment which a famousmuftīof Constantinople pronounced on the poems of the great singer, and this gave Goethe the idea for his "Fetwa," p. 32.106In the same preface107is related the well known reply whichHāfiḍ is reported to have given to Timur, when called to account by the latter for the sentiment of the first couplet of the famous eighth ode, and this inspired the poem "Hätt' ich irgend wol Bedenken," p. 133. Similarly "Vom heutigen Tag," p. 94, is based on the words of an inscription over a caravansery at Ispahan found in Chardin's book. The story of Bahrāmgūr and Dilārām inventing rhyme108gave rise to the poem "Behramgur, sagt man," p. 153. And so we might cite poems from other sources,Qurān, Jones'Poeseos, Diez'Buch des Kabus, etc., but the examples we have given are sufficient to show how Goethe used his material.

Throughout theDivanPersian similes and metaphors are copiously employed and help to create a genuine Oriental atmosphere. The adoration of the dust on the path of thebeloved, p. 23 (cf.H. 497. 10); the image of the candle that is consumed by the flame as the lover is by yearning, p. 54 (cf.H. 414. 4); the love of the nightingale for the rose, p. 125 (cf.H. 318. 1); the lover captive in the maiden's tresses, p. 46 (cf.H. 338. 1); the arrows of the eye lashes, p. 129 (cf.H. 173. 2); the verses strung together like pearls, p. 193 (cf.H. 499. 11), are some of the peculiarly Persian metaphors that occur. Allusions to the loves of Yūsuf and Zalīχā, of Laīlā and Majnūn and of other Oriental couples are repeatedly brought in. Moreover, a whole book is devoted to thesāqīso familiar to students ofHāfiḍ, and Goethe does not shrink from alluding to the subject of boy-love, p. 181.

A great many of the poems, however, do not owe their inspiration to the Orient, and many are completely unoriental. Such are, for instance, those of theRandsch Namah, expressing, as they do, Goethe's opinions on contemporary literary and aesthetic matters. Again, many are inspired by personal experiences, and, as is now well known, the wholeBuch Suleikaowes its origin to the poet's love for Marianne von Willemer; some of its finest poems have been proved to have been written by this gifted lady. Such poems, written under the impressions of some actual occurrence, were sometimes subsequently orientalized. Some striking illustrations of this are given by Burdach in the essay which we cited before and to which we refer.

As theDivanwas an original work, though inspired by Oriental sources, Goethe did not feel the necessity of imitating the extremely artificial forms of his Oriental models. Besides, he knew of these forms only indirectly through the work of Jones. What Hammer's versions could teach him on this point was certainly very little. Perhaps he did not realize what an essential element form is in Persian poetry, that, in fact, it generally predominates over the thought, and this so much that the unity of aγazalis entirely dependent on the recurrence of the rhyme. Instead of such recurrent rhyme he employs changing rhyme and free strophes. Only twice does he attempt anything like an imitation of theγazal, but in neither case does he satisfy the technical rules of this poetic form.109

From all this we see that Goethe in theDivanpreserves his poetic independence. He remains a citizen of the West, though he chooses to dwell for a time in the East. As a rule he takes from there only what he finds congenial to his own nature. So we can understand his attitude towards mysticism. He has no love for it; it was utterly incompatible with his own habit of clear thinking. Speaking of Rūmī, the prince of mystics, he doubts if this poet could give a clear account of his own doctrine;110the grades by which, according toSūfī-doctrine, man rises to ultimate union with the Godhead he calls follies.111Therefore to himHāfiḍ was the singer of real love, real roses and real wine, and this conception of the great lyric poet was also adopted by all the later Hafizian singers.112Unfortunately it cannot be said that it is quite correct. For even if we ignore the mystical interpretation which Oriental commentators give to the wine ofHāfiḍ, we cannot possibly ignore the fact that the love of which he sings is never the ideal love for woman, but mostly the love for a handsome boy.113

With theDivanGoethe inaugurated the Oriental movement in German poetry, which Rückert, Platen and Bodenstedt carried to its culmination. These later Hafizian singers remembered gratefully what they owed the sage of Weimar. Rückert pays his tribute to him in the opening poem of hisÖstliche Rosen, where he hails him as lord of the East as he has been the star of the West.114And Platen offers to him reverentially his firstGhaselen:

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