SOURCE: Neuhäuser, Rudolf. “Sound and Meaning in Romantic Poetry: Prešeren's Poezije.” Russian Literature 30, no. 1 (July 1991): 85-108.

[In the following essay, Neuhäuser discusses the musicality, sound instrumentation, quality of expression, and sensibility of Romantic poetry, and shows how Prešeren's lyric poetry fits into the Romantic mold.]

I.

No matter how much I try not to show the passion of my heart, it is yet given away by the face. You have captivated my eyes and thoughts, they need you and seek you. (etc., etc.)

Or, on a more serious topic:

Unknown great lights move about in the sky; surrounded by the rays of the sun they follow their circular paths,—countless stars, bordering on each other. They all shine in honour of God. (etc., etc.)

The two texts quoted are English renderings of parts of two poems,—the first by M. I. Popov (1768), the second by Urban Jarnik (1809).¹ They have in common that the reader need not be aware of the formal qualities of the original such as rhyme, metre, stanza, in order to understand the text. Both poems belong to the period preceding the Romantic Age, when literature had not yet assumed the qualities which we now associate with it. The Russian text by Popov precedes the Karamzinian reforms, the Slovenian text stands at the very threshold of Slovenian literature which soon after Jarnik found its first great representative in Prešeren. Let us compare these texts with free prose renderings of two other poems of a later and more accomplished age:

There is quiet in the forest and hills. The birds in the woods are
silent. There is hardly a breeze. Soon you will also rest.
I rush about without rest like the clouds in the sky and the waves
at sea driven by the storm. I am not permitted to appear before
you. There is no place on earth where I might forget my grief.

The poems contrast insofar as the second by Prešeren (1832) is more exuberant in its imagery than the first by Goethe (1780).² The common feature of both is banality of content, which is particularly tangible in the first text and slightly veiled by the somewhat florid imagery of the second text. The content of both poems seems to be rendered adequately in the prose translation. In fact, not knowing the originals, one might be tempted to assign all four texts to the same period, i.e. the 18th century, if not earlier. Yet there is a veritable gulf between the two pairs of texts which becomes apparent only if we read the originals of the poems by Goethe and Prešeren:

‘EIN GLEICHES’

Über allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh.
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.

‘KáM?’

Ko brez mirú okróg divjám,
Perjátly prášajo me, kám?
Prašájte ráj' oblák nebá,
Prašájte ráji vál morjá,
Kadàr mogòčni gospodár
Derví jih sèmterkje vihár.
Oblák ne vé, in vál ne kám,
Kám nêse me obúp ne znám.
Samó to znám, samó to vém,
De pred obličje njé ne smém.
In de ni mésta vèrh zemljé,
Kjer bi pozábil tó gorjé!

It is obvious that the prose renderings of these texts come close to parodies of the originals. In other words, something that exists in the original is irretrievably lost in the prose renderings together with rhyme, metre and other formal qualities of the verse.

I should like to quote another two prose renderings of poems of a still later age:

There exist in the world only shady, dreaming maple trees, a brilliant, childlike, thoughtful look, the perfumed make-up of a dear little head, and this clean parting of the hair running towards the left side.

(Fet, 1883)

It is a night in fall. I am in despair and can neither think nor sleep. Nobody cares what I think. I am a lonely poplar tree that neither sows nor reaps.

(Murn, 1900)

With respect to these two texts we can no longer say that the content has been rendered in a meaningful way, corresponding to the original poems, which read:³

‘XXX’

Tоlsко v miri i ists, ctо tinistyj
          Drimlysik кlinоv satir.
Tоlsко v miri i ists, ctо lucistyj
          Ditsкi zadumcivyj vzоr.
Tоlsко v miri i ists, ctо dusistyj
          Milоj gоlоvкi ubоr.
Tоlsко v miri i ists etоt cistyj
          Vlivо bigusij prоbоr.

‘PRIšLA JE JESENSKA NOč’

Prišla je jesenska noč,
proč je moje spanje,—
misli mro obupajoč,
kdo se zmeni zanje?
Prišla je jesenska noč,
proč je moje spanje.—
Jaz sem topol samujoč,
ki ne seje in ne žanje!

The prose texts become rather absurd statements. It is difficult for the reader to relate them to reality. Obviously we could find lines from contemporary poetry which throw this discrepancy even more into relief.

The three groups of texts which we have examined so far belong to three different periods, those of pre-Romanticism, Romanticism, and Modernism. If we compare the texts with regard to subject-matter and meaning we can say that initially meaning was identical with the lexical and syntactic structure (the ‘prose’ content) of the poem. In modern poetry, beginning roughly in the 1880's, meaning gradually shifts towards the side of formal organization of the text. The lexical material is of less and less importance, although it continues to set the parameters for the unfolding of meaning. The poem of the Romantic Age strikes a balance as it were: The Romantic poem conveys two sets of meaning, superimposed and interrelated, one based on lexical structure, the other arising out of formal organization. The totality of meaning results from the harmonious integration of both as can most easily be demonstrated in the case of Goethe's poem.

Goethe's verses end with the words “[…] du auch” (you, too). ‘Auch’ rhymes with ‘Hauch’ (breeze or breath). The onomatopoeic quality of ‘Hauch’ (h, ch) is echoed in the rhyming sound (ch). The juxtaposition of both generates a secondary meaning superimposed on the lexical meaning: “Your life, too, is like a breeze of wind and will pass away just as easily”. The rhyme words thus form a sound metaphor which states a central thought of the poem,—one that is not there on the lexical level.⁴ Similarly we could analyse the significance of the sound ‘i’ in Fet's poem which links ‘mir’ (world) and the qualities of the objects of the world evoked by the poem in the rhyme words ‘tenistyj, lučistyj, dušistyj, čistyj’, with the poet's love as expressed in the adjective ‘miloj’.⁵

Murn's poem shows the prominence of another feature,—the relation of rhythm and metre. The poem consists of two stanzas, the first two lines of which are identical, emphasizing the existential situation of the poet. We note that only one line realizes the metre—alternating four- and three-foot trochaic lines—in its entirety. All other lines omit one stress, at least. The fourth line of the second stanza omits two stresses, an irregularity which results in a new rhythmic pattern,—regular and irregular feet alternate as only every second stress is preserved (ss / –´s / ss / –´s). In the first stanza we note that the place of the omitted stress gradually moves towards the end of the line, i.e. the ‘regularity’ of the line increases until—in the fourth line—we are faced with an entirely regular line. The coming of fall, the absence of sleep, the despair that hampers the poet's thinking, lead up to the question of the fourth line which implicitly expresses a longing for contact with another human being. The regularity of the last line results in an even rhythm which emphasizes insistence and perseverance and gives weight to the question which expresses a basic existential need of the poet.

Moving to the second stanza we observe that the rhythmical pattern of the third line is identical with that of the third line of the first stanza. This identity creates a parallelism with regard to the images conveyed in these two lines. We are asked to relate the image of the “thoughts dying in despair” with the image of the lonely poplar tree. The fourth line of the second stanza supplies the answer to the question posed at the end of the first stanza. The regularity of the metre is upset twice, i.e. the insistent call for help and contact is interrupted again and again. The combination of regularity and irregularity as realized in the rhythmic pattern of the line recalls both the irregular lines referring to the autumnal night, sleeplessness and “dying thoughts”, and the regularity of the last line of the first stanza containing the poet's question. The implicit call for help remains without an answer, the poet remains confined to his lonely existence, like the barren poplar tree on the road.

The sound structure contains only two rhymes based on the sequences ‘-óč’ and ‘-ánje’. The first sequence is combined exclusively with dark vowels, the second has a bright vowel following the stressed ‘a’. Both sequences taken together echo the sound sequence of the ‘autumnal night’ of the title (‘jesénska nóč’, ‘é-a, ó’). The image of the night thus dominates the rhyme pattern. The final line of the poem contains an echo of the sounds of ‘jesén’ (autumn) (je-sé-n, ne-sé-je). The sounds of ‘coming’ (prí-šla) are vaguely echoed in the final line, too, in the phrase “ki (ne) […] (ne) žánje” helping to recall the image of the coming of the autumnal night which thus begins and ends the poem.

The poems by Fet and Goethe could similarly be analysed in greater detail with attention to rhyme, rhythm/metre, and sound metaphor.

The opposition of three types of poems shows that such formal aspects initially, at least, had little or no bearing on the meaning of the text. We can assume that their only function was a) to identify the text as poetic and b) to satisfy an aesthetic demand for harmony and a measure of euphony. This accords with Lotman's assumption that versified texts occur at the beginnings of literature preceding literary prose.

Estiticisкоi vоspriytii prоzy окazalоss vоzmоznym liss na фоni pоeticisкоj кulsturb. Prоza - yvlinii bоlii pоzdnоi, cim pоeziy […].

And:

Pridstavlinii оb ‘uкrasinnоsti’ кaк niоbkоdimоm znaкi tоgо, ctоby isкusstvо vоsprinimalоss iminnо кaк isкusstvо (кaк nictо ‘sdilannоi’—‘mоdils’), prisusi mnоgim istоricisкi rannim kudоzistvinnym mitоdam.⁶

The evolution of verse—looked upon from the point of view of the structure of meaning—involved a shift of emphasis away from the lexical level towards that of form and led to the gradual semanticization of the formal elements of verse. The result of this process is obvious, as we have seen already: If we disregard the formal organization of a poem as in a prose rendition, we are faced with a rather banal text (in Romantic poetry) or a text which tends towards the absurd (in Modernistic poetry), the difference being that Romantic poetry (in contrast to Modernistic poetry) still preserves the lexical basis of meaning. Yet the reading is incomplete without the realization on the part of the reader of the wider, transcendent, and more general meaning generated in the process of semanticization of the formal, structural elements of the poem.

Ever since Madame de Staël turned the attention of her readers to the new Romantic literature of Germany, people have been aware of the powerful influence of German literary theory and practice on all European literatures and particularly those which, like Slovenian literature, were at that time part of the culture of a German-speaking state. Vienna was a centre of German Romanticism at the beginning of the century and its influence extended to the Slavic populations of Austria. Nevertheless, it took several decades before, around 1830, Romanticism found a representative of note in the Slovenian language: France Prešeren (1800-1849), who began publishing in 1827 in the German periodical Illyrisches Blatt which came out in Laibach/Ljubljana and included a Slovenian supplement. In 1830 the first Slovenian literary periodical of note The Little Bee from Kranj (Kranjska čbelica, 1830-1834) appeared, its fame resting largely on contributions by Prešeren. His close friend and guiding spirit of the journal, Matija Čop (1797-1835), was well-versed in most European languages and literatures. He had read Goethe, Tieck, Lamartine, Th. Moore, Byron, Mickiewicz and other contemporary writers and critics, among the latter F. Schlegel whose ‘Gespräch über die Poesie’ exerted some influence on him. Čop became the closest friend and adviser of Prešeren. Both had studied in Vienna, Čop in the years following the Congress of Vienna, Prešeren from the early twenties on. Both were aware of contemporary German literature. Čop's friendship with the poet deepened this influence on Prešeren.

In a recent study of Čop's attitude to Romanticism, we read that:

he [Čop] considered as exponents of positive literary criteria aside from Goethe those authors who were classified in later literary history as representatives of European Romanticism.

And:

For Čop the essence of poetry lay neither in truth nor in the moral, for him it lay in the aesthetic or poetic, which meant that poetry was an autonomous, purely aesthetic sphere of human experience.⁷

Prešeren adhered to analogous views as is demonstrated by his poetry. His mastery of verse is already obvious in the early translation of one of the seminal texts of early German Romantic poetry, August Bürger's ballad ‘Lenore’ (translated into Russian by Žukovskij in 1808 and again in 1813 and 1831) which Prešeren undertook in 1825-1826 (published 1830, revised version 1847). A recent study speaks of “klangliche Verfeinerung und Musikalität” (sound refinement and musicality) as a new quality with regard to which Prešeren even surpassed Bürger. The basis for it was Prešeren's poetic language, “deren Empfindungs- und Ausdrucksqualität auch die Semantisierung von Lautstrukturen einschließt” (the sensibility and quality of expression of which also includes the semanticization of sound structures).⁸ It is this particular aspect which plays such an important role in Romantic poetry as has been pointed out above. A brief review of the attitude of German Romantic writers will indicate the exclusive importance they attached to this aspect of poetry.

Sound instrumentation—to use a formalist term—is closely related to the concept of the ‘musical’ in poetry (‘das Musikalische’). We recall that many Romantic poets considered music the highest of the arts, as it was furthest removed from the material world, the most ethereal of all arts. In it life and art converged entering into an ideal combination. Wackenroder called music the “basic substance of art”:

Keine andere [Kunst als die Musik, R.N.] vermag diese Eigenschaften der Tiefsinnigkeit, der sinnlichen Kraft und der dunklen, fantastischen Bedeutsamkeit auf eine so rätselhafte Weise zu verschmelzen […] Demnach hat keine andere Kunst einen Grundstoff, der schon an sich so mit himmlischem Geist geschwängert wäre als die Musik.⁹

Novalis and after him F. Schlegel considered music the only universal language which affects “das innerste Herz des Bewußtseins” (the innermost core of the mind). Novalis even went further and expressed an attitude which is altogether modernistic, contemporary to our time, maintaining that he could well do without meaning derived from lexical and syntactic forms in poetry demanding only “Gedichte bloß wohlklingend und voll schöner Worte—höchstens einzelne Strophen verständlich …” (poems simply of pleasant sound and beautiful words—few stanzas, at most, comprehensible). According to E. T. A. Hoffmann the spiritual essence of meaning revealed itself specifically in sound and music.¹⁰ One of the leading Russian Romantic authors, V. Odoevskij, himself musician and composer, saw in music the only means to express that which was inaccessible to words,—‘nevyrazimoe’ (also the subject of a well-known poem by Žukovskij):

Ona оdna оtvicait nasim nidоgоvоrinnym slоvam, оdna оtvоdit dusu,—unоsit ii iz zimnоj ydоli i stavit ii liцоm к liцu—s nivyrazimym; etоj cudnоj silоj ni vladiit niкaкоi drugоi isкusstvо.¹¹

The Romantic lyric poetry of Žukovskij is an attempt to capture just this “čudnaja sila” through the combination of musicality and sound patterning with the imagery and lexical material of the poem.

Critics and philosophers stressed the role of sound and music just as much as poets. F. Schlegel noted an inclination of music towards philosophy, comparing a ‘theme’ in music with the object of meditation in philosophy and speaking of “a certain tendency in all pure instrumental music towards philosophy”.¹² Schopenhauer, setting the same thought in a wider philosophical frame of reference, saw the aim and purpose of music as the representation and reflection of the inner essence of the universe. More than that,—many Romantic writers imagined the inner structure of the universe to be based on musical harmonies, a view similar to that of the ancient philosopher Pythagoras. This view was shared by Schelling who taught that music was actually nothing but the tangible realization of the rhythm and harmony of the universe (an idea which reminds us of A. Blok's analogical thought a hundred years later!). Similar views can be found in French (Victor Hugo) and English (Byron) Romantic literature.

The emphasis on music and musicality contributed to the Romantic writer's preference for lyric poetry and furthered the enrichment of the poem with sensual, emotional qualities. Lyric poetry as a ‘biography of passions’ (in the Eighteenth Century sense of emotions) gradually replaced narrative poetry, plot and action (‘sjužetnost'’) which became less important than emotional qualities. Rhythm, intonation, sound instrumentation, rhyme came to serve the principle of musicality in verse. The musical as an expression of the transcendent, spiritual essence of existence, the only adequate means of rendering essential human emotions, “all the inner vibrations of the fibres of our hearts,—the trembling of joy, the storms of delight, the beating pulse of all—engulfing adoration” (Wackenroder) gradually took over the function of expressing elements of content and meaning. We might say that musicality in verse, i.e. the various forms in which it manifested itself, became semanticized, or—to use Wackenroder's expression—“music as a more vague and subtle language” (“eine dunklere und feinere Sprache”) was superimposed upon the lexical material and its everyday meaning.¹³ We could even say that most Romantic poetry speaks to the reader in two languages, the language of words and phrases, and the “more vague and subtle language” of sounds and musicality. The latter renders essential thoughts and sensations according to the Romantic concept of music as the expression and realization of transcendent and universal features. This understanding of Romantic lyric poetry explains why Romantic poems become banal if deprived of formal features such as rhyme, rhythm and other aspects of sound structure. Deprived of the “more vague and subtle language” of sound instrumentation such a poem turns into a ‘speechless’, one-dimensional text. This effect of banalization arising from a disregard of the semanticization of formal elements, particularly sound and rhythm, is most typical of Romantic poetry and becomes quite obvious in translations which pay insufficient attention to these aspects. Prešeren's poems in German, including his own translations of his Slovenian poetry are a case in point. This may explain why Prešeren never made an impact on German literature, although there can be no argument about his stature as a poet in his native language and although his poetry has been available in German almost from the time of its creation.

We can say, then, that a Romantic lyrical poem is organized on two levels,—that of the lexicon and the grammar on the one hand and that of sound and rhythm (Wackenroder's “more subtle language”) on the other. With regard to the process of the generation of meaning, this means that the latter restates the meaning of the text in its essential components, supplying the transcendent, generalized or universal aspect of the poem. The Romantic poem becomes a work of art only through its semantic organization at the level of sound and rhythm. This particular quality of Romantic poetry was recognized by contemporary readers. One of the most perceptive philosophers and aestheticians of the time, F. Hegel, already stated in his book on aesthetics that the “principle of repetition of completely identical or similar sounds” could be linked “on the part of the mind” to the “emphasis and linking of the related meanings in the sounds of the rhyme of the words denoting them”.¹⁴ In this manner Hegel anticipated well-known statements of the late Roman Jakobson:

In poetry, any conspicuous similarity in sound is equivalent in respect to similarity and/or dissimilarity in meaning.

Briefly, equivalence in sound, projected into the sequence as its constitutive principle, inevitably involves semantic equivalence […].¹⁵

Following the lead of Jakobson, Ju. Lotman has restated the principle involved:

Lybyi eliminty, yvlyysiisy v yyzкi фоrmalsnymi, mоgut priоbritats v pоezii simanticisкij karaкtir, pоlucay dоpоlnitilsnyi znaciniy. […] Itaк my mоzim оpridilits susnоsts pоeticisкоj struкtury кaк naliciy niкоtоryk upоrydоcinnоstij, ni pоdrazumivaimyk struкturоj ististvinnоgо yzyкa, pоzvоlyysik оtоzdistvits v оpridilinnyk оtnоsiniyk vnutritiкstоvyi sigminty i rassmatrivats nabоr etik sigmintоv кaк оdnu ili nisкоlsко paradigm.¹⁶

There are similar statements in the writings of Romantic critics, although far less precise than Hegel, Jakobson and Lotman. One might point to A. Schlegel's early ‘symbolist’ concept of poetry as a system of correspondences: “Alle Dinge stehen in Beziehungen aufeinander, alles bedeutet daher alles, jeder Teil des Universums spiegelt das Ganze”. (Every thing is related to every other, everything therefore signifies everything, every part of the universe reflects the whole).¹⁷ The importance of metaphor, symbol and myth has its roots in such views. A. Schlegel, like the formalists and structuralists of a later age, stated that “aller Inhalt eines Gedichtes doch nur durch das Medium der Form erkannt wird” (the full content of a poem, however, is recognized only through the intermediary of form).¹⁸

In brief, it may be no exaggeration to say that these pronouncements by the Schlegel brothers and Hegel laid the groundwork for the analysis of sound instrumentation and sound metaphor. Beginning with Osip Brik's studies of sound repetition, scholars and theoreticians of verse have turned their attention to these aspects of verse.¹⁹

In 1923 Žirmunskij wrote a History and Theory of Rhyme, in which he pointed out that the confrontation of words in rhyme is also semantic in nature:

Obhidinyy оdinaкоvym sоevuciim dva raznyk slоva, zamyкaysik stik, riфma vydvigait eti slоva pо sravniniy s оstalsnymi, dilait ik цintrоm vnimaniy i sоpоstavlyit ik v smyslоvоm оtnоsinii drug s drugоm.²⁰

Ju. Tynjanov expressed analogous views in 1924 in his study The Problem of the Language of Verse (Problema stichotvornogo jazyka) pointing to the “izmenenie semantičeskoj značimosti slova, kotoroe polučaetsja v rezul'tate ego značimosti ritmovoj”.²¹ The confrontation of words in rhyme creates new “fluctuating semantic connotations” (kolebljuščiesja priznaki značenija). Tynjanov like Belyj used the term ‘zvukovaja metafora’. Similar terms used later were ‘rhythmic metaphor’ (Tynjanov) and ‘vertical metaphor’ (V. Turčáný).²² Jan Mukařovský summarizes:

Laute oder Lautfolgen können jedoch auch indirekt zu einem Faktor der Bedeutung werden, als Vermittler von Bedeutungsbeziehungen und zwar so, daß sich klanglich ähnliche Wörter in eine wechselseitige Bedeutungsverbindung setzen […]. Ein typisches Beispiel für diese Funktion ist jedoch der Reim. Neben seiner euphonischen und rhythmischen Aufgabe hat der Reim auch eine semantische: er soll die verborgenen Möglichkeiten für die Bedeutungsbeziehungen zwischen den Wörtern aufdecken.²³

However, all these studies notwithstanding, we can still read in Wellek and Warrens's Theory of Literature (the 1963 edition!) that sound symbolism and sound metaphor, and especially the problem of sound and meaning, have received insufficient attention in literary studies.²⁴ It was left to structuralist research of the last thirty years, particularly as it relates to the Tartu school and Prof. Lotman, to investigate this area more thoroughly and apply this knowledge to the analysis of particular poems.

II.

The lyric poetry of France Prešeren, Slovenia's outstanding poet, fits entirely the Romantic mould. The ‘more subtle language’ of sound instrumentation creates the particular appeal that has cast its spell over generations of readers ever since these poems first appeared in print a hundred and forty five years ago. We shall try to illustrate some of the aspects of sound instrumentation in Prešeren's collection of verse Poezije (1847).

The Slovenian literary language was not yet stabilized when Prešeren wrote. Different spellings, some based on local dialects, were current. This situation has to be considered in conjunction with the general evolution of literature which saw the rise of an educated reading public, the creation of printing presses and printed media. In contrast to folklore, literature was written and read. It was created with a view to the visually oriented understanding of the reader. This means that graphic aspects including orthography became important. Accordingly I will quote Prešeren's poems from the original edition (edited by the author himself) maintaining spelling and accentual notation. Phonetic aspects will be neglected in favour of graphic aspects.

The title of a poem usually has particular significance. This may be reflected in the sound structure of the poem, as in Prešeren's poem ‘K slovesu’ (‘Upon parting’).²⁵ The title is echoed in the rhymes “[živlênja] pézo” (burden of life) and “[sréce] jézo” (grudge of fortune). The meanings of the two rhymes are thus associated with the title. Together they characterize the central theme of the poem—separation. A somewhat more complex situation can be found in the poem ‘Síla spomínja’ (‘The Power of Memory’). The last stanza reads:

Ne pozabíti jih, so te prosíli
          Drugi, ne môje prevzétno sercé;
V mîslih ti níso, al mêne prosíli
          Pómnila bós ty do zádnjiga dné.

The sounds of ‘síla’—a keyword of the title—are echoed in the first, third and fourth lines of this stanza (prosíli, míslih, pómnila), the complete title is echoed in the last line:

Pómnila bós ti do zádnji ga dné
([s]ila spo-[m]i-nj a)

Similarly we find the sounds of the title echoed in the poem ‘Zgubljêna véra’ (‘Lost faith’).²⁶ The sounds of the concluding lines of the poem (“Serce je môje biló oltár, / Pred bógstvo tí, zdaj—lépa stvár.”) coincide in partial identity with the sounds of the title:

[…] zdáj—lépa stvár
(zg[u]blje[n]a v[e]ra)

About two thirds of the sounds of the title are contained in the concluding hemistich. The attentive reader will note the echo effect which again lends a metaphorical quality to the concluding phrase. The ‘lost faith’ of the title is thus equivalent to the ‘beautiful object’ of the final line which, in turn, is associated with the image of the beloved (“bógstvo”). Simultaneously a keyword of the second-last line “oltár” rhyming with “stvár” is also echoed in the sounds of the final line, thus reinforcing the equivalence of “oltár” (altar/heart) and “lépa stvár” (beautiful object).

zdáj lépa stvár
(o/a-l-t-ár)

All this results in a more complex sound metaphor. Not only the beloved, but also the heart of the lover (i.e. the altar of his love) becomes but a ‘thing of beauty’ deprived of their earlier emotional content (faith). The final stanza thus realizes the central meaning of the poem restating it on the level of sound instrumentation.

We have so far dealt with single phrases and words. What has been said about these instances of sound repetition including echo effects can be applied to entire poems as well. As an example we shall turn to the poem already quoted ‘K slovésu’. The complete text reads as follows:

‘K SLOVéSU’

Káj od mêne prèč okó,
Prèč obràz obráčaš mili?
Kdó te mêne ljúbit' sili?
Rájši kòj mi dàj slovó.
Désno rôko brez skerbi
Daj k prijáznimu slovésu,
Solz v nôbenim ni očésu,
Žal-beséde v ústi ni.
Žále misli v sèrcu ni;
Sàj ni préd biló vesélo,
Ko se záte je unélo,
Nàj ne bò prihódnje dni!
Vèrnil bó se préjšni čàs;
Hôdil póta bóm temôtne,
Kámor sréče bó tegòtne
Gnál nemíli me ukáz.
Môja stára ljúba bó,
Bó poterpežljívost míla
Zvézo z máno ponovila,
V zákon dála mi rokó.
Od pomóči njé podpèrt
Nósil bóm življênja pézo,
Dòkler zmága sréče jézo
Zádnja ljúbca,—béla smèrt.

The first stanza repeats the main word of the title in the nominative case (“slovó”). This rhymes with “okó”. The two ‘o’ sounds of the rhyme words reappear in the second line (“Prèč obráz obráčas […]”) forming an internal rhyme thus underlining their significance. The phrase containing them is linked to “prèč okó” by sound and a syntactic parallelism, thus illustrating the image of leavetaking. The ‘o’ rhyme embraces another rhyme in ‘i’. Again the vowel is doubled: “obráz […] míli / […] mène ljúbit' síli”. The ‘i’ expresses the power of love, i.e.—love (‘i’) in the embrace of parting (‘o’) as we might interpret the rhyme scheme of this stanza. The fifth stanza repeats the scheme of the first. An ‘o’ rhyme embraces an ‘i’ rhyme. Simultaneously we come across a typical motif of Romantic poetry which Lotman in an analysis of Lermontov's verse called ‘motiv podmeny’ (substitution motif). The Romantic poet cannot experience ideal love in this world, he can realize it only in a transcendent ideal. That is, he associates this ideal with a person or object which he then substitutes for the actual object of his love:

Lyby svоy vоzlyblinnuy, pоet lybit v nij nictо inоi. Pri etоm фunкцiоnalsnо aкtivin iminnо aкt zaminy: vaznо utvirzdinii, ctо lybiss ni tоgо, коgо lybiss. Kоnкritnyi zi фunкtivy zaminy mоgut minytssy. Etо mоzit byts zamina zinsiny drugоj zinsinоj, rialsnоj zinsiny nisbytоcnоj mictоj, illyziymi prоslyk lit, zaminy zinsiny ii pоdarкоm ili pоrtritоm i t.p.²⁷

In the case of Prešeren's poem, the poet sees his ideal in “mila poterpežljívost” (sweet forbearance) and substitutes her for his beloved. This accentuates the theme of parting, which is again echoed in the rhyme scheme,—an ‘o’ rhyme embracing an ‘i’ rhyme (the ‘o’ is again doubled, in the first line by repetition of the rhyme word at the beginning of the second line). The poet's passion is engulfed, as it were, by the existential situation of parting.

Sound instrumentation can also be used in a manner that avails itself not only of rhymes, but weaves a continuous pattern of sounds which extends over the whole length of the line and creates numerous parallels and oppositions, all of them semantically significant. A good example of such a poem is the first ghasel which Prešeren wrote in 1832 as part of a cycle of ghasels. This ancient oriental genre was utilized in German Literature. Besides F. Schlegel and F. Rückert it was particularly Goethe who had used this form. The first couplet determines the rhyme which is then repeated every even line (aa, ba, ca, da, etc.). Sometimes there is also an internal rhyme. In Prešeren's ghasel we find such an internal rhyme which follows the same scheme as the end rhyme. The end rhyme shows an additional feature: it consists of a sequence which is repeated every even line. Prešeren repeats the phrase “tvôjiga iména” (characteristic sequence: ‘é-a’). The internal rhyme is based on another sequence found in the first rhyme word “posóda” (vessel) (characteristic sequence: ‘ó-a’). All words rhyming with “posóda” contain this sequence. More than that, the characteristic sequence of the internal rhyme appears in all ten lines of the poem, even occurring more than once in some of the lines. It is also part of the end rhyme “tvôjiga iména”. Analysing the sound structure with a view to the principle of the semanticization of sounds in poetry, we can say the following.²⁸ The end rhyme in Prešeren's poem is based on identity. Every second line ends in the same phrase. Identity seems to be the structural principle of the entire poem. This is obvious already in the first couplet. Here is the complete text of the poem:

Pésem môja je posóda tvôjiga iména,
Môjiga sercá gospóda tvôjiga iména;
V nji bom mèd slovénske bráte sládki glás zanésil
Od zahóda do izhóda tvôjiga iména;
Na posódi v zlátih čèrkah sláva se bo brála
Od naróda do naróda tvôjiga iména,
Z njé svitlòba bó goréla šè takràt, ko bóva
Unstran Káronov'ga bróda tvôjiga iména.
Bòlj ko Dèlie, Koríne, Cíntie al Lávre
Bi biló pozábit' škoda tvôjiga iména.

The distinctive elements of the two rhyme sequences are the bright ‘é’ and the dark ‘ó’. The first line of the poem equates “pésem” (song) with “posóda” (vessel) both referring to the poet's craft and both linked by alliteration, in addition! The song is seen as a ‘vessel’ containing his beloved's name. The first line thus establishes the opposition of ‘I: you’ which actually is an identity as the fate of the one is bound to the fate of the other. These correspondences extend through the entire poem. They are evoked time and again through the magic of sound instrumentation. “Pésem” is related to “posóda” and both are equated with “imé(na)”. Considering the stressed vowels of the first line we observe that the bright ‘é’ begins and ends the line. In its embrace we find three stressed ‘ó's’ (‘é-ô/ó/ô-é’). The ‘ó's’ can also be considered a visual representation of the identity of ‘I’ and ‘you’ in the image of the vessel insofar as the first ‘ô’ refers to ‘môja’, the third to ‘tvôjiga’ and the central ‘ó’ to ‘posóda’. The first and last words of the line (“pésem […] iména”) are each accompanied by an attribute containing the characteristic sound sequence of the internal rhyme ‘ó-a’ again emphasizing the principle of identity. Yet the sound symbolism extends even further. The ‘ó-a’ sequence first refers to the position of the ‘I’, then to that of the ‘you’, i.e. both merge in it as it were. The same applies to the ‘é’ which first refers to the ‘I’ (poet), then to the ‘you’ (his love), again both merging in one. Each sound sequence simultaneously denotes a definite position and indicates the identity of the positions thus defined! The first line thus establishes the pattern of identifying and contrasting the two positions of the ‘I’ and the ‘you’ by means of the skilful use of the two characteristic sound sequences. To sum up: we could divide the first line into two hemistichs revolving around an axis—

Pésem môja je—posóda—tvôjiga iména

each hemistich identifying one position and (through sound instrumentation) equating it with the other.

The second line continues this pattern. The axis of the line is formed by the internal rhyme word ‘gospóda’. The phrases preceding and following it have identical sound sequences again opposing and identifying the two positions, again each containing the characteristic sound sequence of the other. The principle of identity also functions in a vertical sequence insofar as the second rhyme word ‘gospóda’ contains all the sounds of ‘posóda’ adding only the ‘g’ which links the two positions expressed by ‘tvôjiga’ in the first, and ‘môjiga’ in the second line.

The internal rhyme ‘ó-a’ appears in all even numbered lines, forming the axis of the line. The sound structure of the odd lines in between is such that the axis is formed by the contrastive sequence ‘é-a’, resp. ‘í-e’ in line 9 (“slovénske bráte”, “čèrkah”, “goréla”, “Koríne”) suggesting the rhyme word of the end rhyme: ‘iména’. In this manner the end of the first hemistich repeats the characteristic sound sequences of the ‘I’ and the ‘you’ in alternating lines reinforcing the basic scheme of the poem. In lines five and seven we find that the central ‘é-a’ sequence is surrounded on each side by at least four stressed dark vowels (o/a), thus graphically illustrating the image of the vessel (o/a) containing the name (e/a) of the beloved.

If we examine the internal rhyme words more closely we find that they can be reduced to a common denominator—archiseme (Lotman)—expressing (in analogy with ‘posóda/vessel’) the concept of inclusion, containment or enclosure. This also applies to the phrases containing the sound sequence ‘ó-a’ such as “od zahóda do izhóda” (line 4), “od naróda do naróda” (line 6) and “unstran Káronov'ga bróda” (line 8). The final internal rhyme word “[pozábit'] škóda” refers to the essential function of the ‘vessel’: to preserve that which it contains, to save from oblivion and preserve the memory of the ‘name’. Similarly we note that the phrases dominated by the characteristic sound sequence of the ‘name’ ([i]é-a) such as “mèd […] bráte sládki glás zanésil” and “v zlátih čèrkah” as well as the list of names in line 9, are closely associated with the image of the name of the beloved.

We also note that the vowel ‘i’ which precedes the ‘é-a’ sequence of the final rhyme of the line turns up in the phrases listed above. In this connection it is significant that the ‘i’, originally referring to ‘imé’, turns up in ‘tvôjiga’ (and ‘môjiga’) again symbolizing the vessel (o-a) containing the name (o-i-a). We find this arrangement of sounds again in the centre of the final line in the phrase “[…] pozábit' škóda […]” (o-a—i—o-a).

We shall stop the investigation of the patterns of sound instrumentation at this point. It has been shown with sufficient clarity, I believe, in how intricate a manner the sound sequences of the first distich (the ‘Royal House’ of the ghasel) determine the sound structure of the entire poem. The first distich, which according to the rules of the genre lays down the formal order of rhymes, thus also accomplishes this on the level of sound patterning! The sound sequences carry distinctive meanings which weave a secondary pattern of meaning reiterating and restating the basic thought of the poem.

In conclusion, we shall discuss one more poem, the sound structure of which impressively illustrates the significance of the opposition of dark and bright vowels in Prešeren's lyric poetry. This is the poem ‘Kám?’ (‘Whereto?’) the text of which has already been quoted above.

The title is repeated at the end of the first distich where it serves as a rhyme word and again in the fourth distich. Apart from this, ‘kám’ is contained in the sounds of the first line if we contract the beginning and ending sounds of the line: “K(o) […] (divj)ám”. Being the only vowel of the title, ‘a’ has a specific significance. We note that over half of all the stressed vowels of the poem are an ‘a’ (22 out of 41!). If we add the other dark vowels (o/u) and compare their occurrence in the poem with that of the bright vowels (e/i) we come across interesting regularities. Dark vowels dominate the first two distichs at a ratio of 10:6 and 12:4, i.e. averaging 11:5, which reflects the overall ratio mentioned above. The next three (central) stanzas show a balance of dark and bright (8:8). Yet a closer look reveals that actually only the fourth stanza contains this balance of bright and dark (4:4). The stanzas preceding and following it have an unequal distribution: In the first lines dark vowels dominate at a rate of 7:1, in the second lines the situation is the exact reverse,—bright vowels dominate at a rate of 7:1. The final stanza of the poem combines both patterns: in the first line dark and bright vowels occur at a ratio of 1:7, the second line shows the same balance ratio as the fourth stanza,—four dark vowels are opposed by four bright vowels. The total ratio of dark to bright vowels in the final stanza is—5:11, the exact reverse of the first two stanzas.

Before continuing with the analysis of the sound structure, it will be useful to have a look at the relationship between metre and rhythm in this poem. The four-foot iambic line contains several irregularities. All four stresses of the metre are realized only in the two lines of the second stanza and the first lines of the fourth and fifth stanzas (pattern a). These four lines marked by the regular, persistent beat of the metre contain essential aspects of the author's view of himself and the world. The final three lines of the poem repeat the rhythmic pattern of the first line (pattern b: ss / s–´ / s –´ / s –´) of the poem, the third stanza repeats the pattern of the second line (pattern c: s–´ / s–´ / ss / s–´) of the poem. The second line of the fourth stanza, which occupies a central position in the poem, shows a unique rhythm (pattern x: –´–´ / ss / s–´ / s–´) which is not repeated elsewhere in the poem. This line, the importance of which is marked by its unusual rhythm and which includes an extra stress on the first syllable, expresses the essence of the poet's situation and could well serve as the epigraph of the poem. The rhythmic structure of the poem is as follows:

The ‘b’ pattern begins and ends the poem. This outer frame embraces two inner frames which overlap,—the ‘c’ pattern embracing ‘a’ and ‘a’ in turn, embracing ‘c’ and ‘x’.

The lines linked by their rhythmic structure are also linked by (lexical) meaning. The final three lines are an amplification of the first line which states the existential situation of the poet who “restlessly rushes around”; the lines of the third stanza supply the answer to the question asked in the second line of the poem—(“whereto?”) in the words, “where the mighty lord, the tempest drives [them]”. The rhythm of the poem thus reveals essential aspects of its meaning. This leads us back to sound instrumentation.

The ‘a’ of the title evokes the question which is repeated in the second line of the poem. The ‘a’ turns up in stressed position in a series of nouns which are closely related to the poetic image which implies an answer to the question asked by the poet,—“oblák, nebá, vál morjá, gospodár, vihár”—, and in the verbs “prašájte” and “[ne]znám”.

The ‘a’ and the dark vowels accompanying it characterize the image of the clouds and waves driven by the tempest to an unknown destination. This image of a storm at sea—sea serving as the time-honoured symbol of life—implicitly supplies the answer to the question “Kám?”. The dark vowels could be said to signify the principle of passivity, of force endured, of being chased about by forces outside one's control as in the image of the storm at sea.

The bright vowels ‘e’ and ‘i’, especially the latter, first turn up unstressed in the words “brez mirú” (restless), “divjám” (rush around), “mogóčni” (mighty), and “vihár” (tempest), leading up to its first appearance in stressed position in the phrase “[vihár […] derví [jih] […]]”. The archiseme evoked by the bright vowels is the opposing principle of activity, of blind force and action, standing for the power of fate and fateful love and, arising out of it, the prohibition to approach the beloved. The tempest of the poetic image in the first half of the poem is equated with “obúp” (despair) in the second half. “Obúp” is associated through its sound structure with “oblíčje” (face or sight),—the ‘i’ of which (as in “vihár derví jih”) evokes the image of the tempest. The sound of ‘i’ is also prominent in the phrase “bi pozábil” (would forget) which is also linked to “oblíčje” by the common sounds [b/p] and [l]. The sound of ‘i’ then symbolizes the fateful power which keeps the author away from the sight of his beloved. The knowledge of this fate is expressed in the verb “vém” (I know) which is equated by rhyme with “[ne] smém” (I dare not). Just as the principle of passivity and suffering (a/o/u) is opposed by that of activity and active interference (e/i), the consciousness of the poet is tragically split,—the knowledge of his passive suffering (“samó to znám”) is opposed to his knowledge of the fateful power which keeps him from his beloved (“samó to vém”). The poet's realization of his existential situation—his restless wanderings likened to the movements of the clouds and waves—is deepened by his knowledge of the power of the fate which keeps him away from the sight of his love. The two verbs, which in this context have identical lexical meanings (to know), are opposed in sound structure (“znám: vém”) and actually express two different kinds of knowledge in the context of the poem.

It was noted above that “pozábil” is partially identical in its sound structure with ‘obličje’ (both share the sounds [o, l, i], plosiveness [b/p] and sibilance [č/z]). In this manner “pozábil” evokes the sight of the beloved whom the poet cannot ever forget. The phrase “to gorjé” (that grief) repeats in partial identity the sounds of “gospodár” (both sharing the sounds [g, o, d/t, r]). “Oblíčje”/“pozábil” and “gospodár”/“to gorjé” are again characterized by the opposition of bright and dark vowels with respect to the vowel in stressed position (‘i:á’ and ‘á:é’). The principles of passivity and activity, of blind force and fateful suffering, of restless wandering and harassment by fate are evoked once again by the skilful play of sounds. How much the poem suffers if deprived of its intricate sound instrumentation can be seen if we compare the Slovenian original with its German translations, including Prešeren's own German version, which fail to reproduce the sound patterns of the Slovenian text.²⁹ That Prešeren was conscious of the importance of the contrast between dark and bright vowels is indirectly proved by the fact that he utilized it faithfully in the end rhyme of his German version although he was unable to maintain it throughout.

These examples of poems from Prešeren's Poezije show the degree to which these poems owe their appeal to the masterly use of sound instrumentation illustrating the Romantic understanding of musicality as the “basic substance” (Wackenroder) of art and endowing the poems with their timeless appeal, supplying their transcendent significance above and beyond lexical meaning.

Notes

1. M. I. Popov, ‘Ljubovnye pesni’ in G.P. Makogonenko (ed.). Russkaja literatura XVIII veka (Leningrad 1970: 207); Urban Jarnik, ‘Zvezdje’ in A. Gšpan. Cvetnik, Vol. II (Ljubljana 1979: 27). The texts are as follows: M. I. Popov:

   Kaк sirdцi ni sкryvait
   Mоy zistокu strasts
   Vzоr smutnyj оb hyvlyit
   Tvоy nad sirdцim vlasts;
   Glaza mоi plininny
   Vsigda к tidi kоtyt,
   I mysli оbоlhsinny
   Vsigda к tibi lityt.
   (etc.)

   U. Jarnik:

   ‘ZVEZDJE’

   Tukaj gori se neznani
             velki sveti sučejo,
   z lúčjo sonca so obdani,
             kroglapotatekajo;
   zvezda zvezdi je soseda,
             njih za nas števila ni,
   ena v drugo svètlo gleda,
             vsaka v božjo čast gori.

   Svetla cesta je razpeta
             čez brezkončni néba zid,
   Tam se vozi čast Očeta
             vódi pota zvezdnih rid:
   vse je kroglo, vse se miga,
             vse od ognja sveti se,
   vse oznanja, da velíka
             roka svet stvaríla je.

   Tvoje veličastvo, Večni,
             trume zvezd nam pravijo,
   kako bomo šele srečni,
             če mi k tebi pridemo!
   Skoz teh svétov svet bo pela
             naša duša Stvarniko,
   zvrha svétov bo sedela,
             pila petje angelsko.

2. J. W. Goethe. ‘Ein Gleiches’. Goethes Werke, Vol. 1 (München 1974¹⁰: 142); F. Prešeren. ‘Kam?’. Poezije (Ljubljana 1847: 12).

3. A. A. Fet. ‘Tol'ko v mire …’. Stichotvorenija (Moskva-Leningrad 1963: 396); J. Murn. ‘Prišla je jesenska noč’. Zbrano delo, Vol. 1 (Ljubljana 1954: 88).

4. Cf. Ivan Fonagý. ‘Informationsgehalt von Wort und Laut in der Dichtung’. Poetics, Poetyka, Poetika (Warszawa 1961: 601 f.). See also W. Schmid. Der ästhetische Inhalt (Lisse 1977: 59-62).

5. Cf. Efim Ètkind. Materija sticha (Paris 1978: 55-57).

6. Ju.M. Lotman. Analiz poètičeskogo teksta (Ljubljana 1972: 26 f.).

7. Janko Kos. ‘Matija Čop in evropska romantika’. Obdobje romantike v slovenskem jeziku, književnosti in kulturi (Ljubljana 1981: 44).

8. Klaus D. Olof. ‘Bürgers Lenore in der Übersetzung France Prešerens’. Obdobje romantike …, 252.

9. W. H. Wackenroder. Sämtliche Schriften (Hamburg 1968: 169).

10. Quoted in P. Kluckhohn, Das Ideengut der deutschen Romantik (Tübingen 1961⁴: 169-172). E. T. A. Hoffmann is quoted by Kluckhohn as saying that sounds and melodies speak “die höhere Sprache des Geisterreiches” (the higher language of the spiritual realm).

11. V. F. Odoevskij. Muzykal'no-literaturnoe nasledie (Moskva 1956: 484).

12. F. Schlegel. ‘Athenäumsfragmente’. Kritische Schriften (München 1956: 83).

13. Wackenroder, op.cit., 171 and 191.

14. G. W. F. Hegel. Ästhetik III, Vol. 2 (Berlin und Weimar 1965: 392).

15. Roman Jakobson. ‘Closing Statement: Linguistics and Poetics’. Style in Language (ed. T. Sebeok) (Cambridge, Mass. 1960, 1960, 1964²: 368 and 372).

16. Lotman, op.cit., 36 and 42.

17. A. W. Schlegel. Vorlesungen über schöne Literatur und Kunst (ed. J. Minor), Vol. I (Stuttgart 1884: 292).

18. A. W. Schlegel. Sämtliche Werke, Vol. 10 (Leipzig 1864-1867: 134).

19. Concerning the use of metaphors in Romantic literature refer to R. Jakobson's articles of 1921 ‘O chudožestvennom realizme’ (Ju. Striedter. Texte der russischen Formalisten, Vol. I. München 1969) and 1935 ‘Randbemerkungen zur Prosa des Dichters Pasternak’ (Slavische Rundschau, No. 7, 357-374), where Jakobson wrote about the tendency of realistic literature towards metonymy and opposed realistic style to that of Romanticism (respectively Symbolism and Futurism), which was characterized by the use of metaphors. In his essay about Pasternak, Jakobson emphasized the tendency of verse towards metaphors and that of prose towards metonymy. Similarly, V. Žirmunskij opposed metaphors and metonymy in his typology of literary styles linking them to Romanticism and Classicism respectively (V. Žirmunskij. ‘O poèzii klassičeskoj i romantičeskoj’. Voprosy teorii literatury. Leningrad 1928). See also D. Tschižewskij. Russische Literaturgeschichte des 19. Jahrhunderts, Vol. II: Der Realismus (München 1967: 11 f.).

20. O. Brik. ‘Zvukovye povtory’. Poètika (Petrograd 1919: 58-100). V. Žirmunskij. Rifma. Ee istorija i teorija (Petrograd 1923: 79; reprint: München 1970).

21. Ju. Tynjanov. Problema stichotvornogo jazyka (Leningrad 1924: 65; see also 74). The term ‘zvukovaja metafora’ is used there on p. 103. Also A. Belyj used this term in his Masterstvo Gogolja (Leningrad 1934: 125-131 and 210 f.).

22. Ju. Tynjanov used the term ‘rhythmic metaphor’ in his above-mentioned study (103). Viliam Turčáný spoke of a ‘vertical metaphor’ in Z historickej poetiky II (Bratislava 1965) and ‘Rym v poetizmu …’ in O literarnej avant-garde (Bratislava 1966). A comprehensive survey can be found in W. Schmid. Der ästhetische Inhalt, 51-55.

23. J. Mukařovský. Studien zur strukturalistischen Ästhetik und Poetik (München 1974: 161).

24. R. Wellek and A. Warren. Theorie der Literatur (Frankfurt-Berlin 1963: 140 f.).

25. Concerning the text refer to p. 97. The rhymes referred to here will be found in the last stanza of the poem.

26. The text of the poem is as follows:

    ‘ZGUBLJêNA VéRA’

    Nebéško síjejo oči,
    Ko so sijále présnje dni.

    Rudéče lica zórno šè
    Cvetêjo, ko so préd cvetlè.

    Se usta sméjajo ko préd.
    Sladkóst ni mánjši z njih besed.

    Otèmnil ni ga čása bég.
    Nič mànj ni bél pers tvòjih snég.

    Živòt je ták, roké, nogé
    So kákoršne so préd bilé.

    Lepôta, ljubeznívost vsà
    Je, kákoršna je préd bilà.

    Al vérvat' v têbe móč mi ni,
    Kakòr sim vérval préjšne dni.

    Le svéta, císta glôria,
    Ki véra da jo, je prešlà.

    En sám poglèd je vzèl jo prèč,
    Nazáj ne bó je níkdar več.

    Ak bi živéla vékomej,
    Kar si mi b'là, ne bóš napréj.

    Sercé môje bilo oltár,
    Pred bógstvo tí, zdaj - lépa stvár.

27. Ju. Lotman, op.cit., 170.

28. Cf. the table of sounds as given in B. Paternu. France Prešeren in njegovo pesniško delo, Vol. 1 (Ljubljana 1977: 217).

29. Cf. F. Vidic (ed.). F. Prešeren. Poesien (Wien 1901). Cf. also Lili Nový. Franz Prešeren. Gedichte (Ljubljana 1936).