SOURCE: "Lovers, Labours, and Cliff Top Meals: The Architectonics of Dürrenmatt's two Herkules Dramas," in Seminar, Vol. XX, No. 4, November, 1984, pp. 279-89.

[In the following review, Wolfe compares the love scenes in the 1954 radio drama to the 1963 stage version of Dürrenmatt's Herkules. She contends that the love scenes were awkward in the radio drama, but are a more important subplot in the stage play.]

No other radio play by Friedrich Dürrenmatt has elicited such criticism, no other theater piece such impassioned denials as Herkules und der Stall des Augias. Deeply offended by the lampoon of their heroic tradition, and resentful of what appeared as a dark attack on the democratic process itself, Swiss audiences and reviewers alike rejected the two Hercules dramas. This was the emotional, public reaction to Dürrenmatt's playful handling of hallowed institutions; scholarly attention, however, turned inward, to a structural irregularity which seemed to force a "feeble lesson, a comfortable reconciliation of opposites." The love sequences of both the 1954 radio and 1963 stage versions have been unanimously regarded as subordinate and external to the central theme of courageous commitment to evolutionary change, a theme which had found its culmination in the final, garden scene. The critic Renate Usmiani, in considering that final scene in the radio version, voiced the discomfort of her colleagues: "Es ist nicht zu leugnen, da der ernste Ton, mit dem das Stück endet, schwer mit dem spöttisch-frivolen Lustspielcharakter der vorhergehenden Szenen in Einklang zu bringen ist und daher künstlerisch zumindest fragwürdig erscheint." That the same censures were then applied to the stage play reflects a failure—often in production—to detect the modifications in the love story which set the 1963 version on an entirely different course.

The chief obstacle to a successful re-writing was the crucial Augias/"garden" scene, which in the radio play had seemed to surface without dramatic foundation. The love story—a mere subplot in the radio version—had been too deeply rooted in the comic plane to successfully announce the pensive finale. A resolution of the structural dilemma would have to include anchoring the philosophical question firmly in dramatic incident. By exploiting the compressed space of the two campfire dinners atop the rapidly sinking Elian cliffs, as well as the inherent temporal limitations of the meal itself, the 1963 version "forces" the lovers Dejaneira and Herkules into dialogue and an eventual understanding of their relationship to one another. Although a skeleton of the love scenes to be considered is already contained in the radio drama (45% and 62% of their spoken lines respectively), it is the addition of the meal with its highly charged confinement which adds the emotional urgency essential for an intense, and credible, sounding of the lovers' inner motives. What then emerges through the love conversations becomes an eloquent foreshadowing of the final garden scene, for it becomes evident that Dejaneira and the Elian president Augias share the same vision: the Earth, as wasteland, transformed through human endeavour. It is the challenge and failure of that vision—already contained in the two major love scenes—"Auf den Felsen" and "Wieder auf den Felsen"—which successfully anchors the pivotal garden scene in the love conflict.

In Augias' charge to his son to "cultivate a private garden," Christian Jauslin thought he detected the first solution ever dramatically expressed by Dürrenmatt. Yet in the radio drama, that solution surfaced without motivation; its only connection to the love story lay in Herkules' and Dejaneira's role as "that chance of a lifetime which comes and goes," for which the Elians were as yet unprepared. Dejaneira, particularly, personified the lost opportunity: "AUGIAS: Du hast eine Frau geliebt und verloren. Sie war nicht für uns geschaffen. Zu finster ist es noch." When, nine years later, Dürrenmatt chose to excise that oft-quoted line, he accomplished a major shift in tone: no longer would Dejaneira personify "promise"; it would instead become her failure to grasp the same message—"cultivate a garden here"—which would tie the love triangle firmly to the Augias scene.

Herkules and Dejaneira share three scenes; it is in the second and third that Dürrenmatt chooses the vehicle of the meal (quite simply a soup pot warmed over an open fire) to force the lovers into speech and toward a recognition of their inner motives. Both Herkules—for whom self-expression is a flexing of muscle—and Dejaneira—most at home when verbally mothering him—are forced to express and define a love which is nearly ineffable.

As scene ten opens, Dejaneira has just spoken to the young Phyleus of the manifold possibilities awaiting mankind, should it elect to create from the surrounding chaos rather than capitulate; for, much like Elias, her beloved Thebes had once lain a wasteland:

DEJANEIRA: Dazu ist uns die Erde gegeben: Da wir das Feuer bändigen, die Gewalt des Windes und des Meeres nutzen, da wir das Gestein zerbrechen und aus seinen Trümmern Tempel und Häuser bauen. Und du sollst einmal Theben sehen, meine Heimat, die Stadt mit den sieben Toren und der goldenen Burg Kadmeia.

PHYLEUS (zögernd): Du liebst deine Heimat?

DEJANEIRA: Ich liebe sie, weil sie vom Menschen erschaffen ist. Ohne ihn wäre sie eine Steinwüste geblieben, denn die Erde ist blind und grausam ohne den Menschen.

This is the continuing vision to which Dejaneira repeatedly refers, and therefore the standard by which we must judge her; it will be the forthcoming campfire scenes which test her commitment to the ideal.

It becomes increasingly apparent, as Phyleus runs off and Herkules approaches, that Herkules and Dejaneira are least verbal in one another's presence. The problems of the day, certainly, surface at mealtime in typical domestic fashion: Herkules' difficulties at work, the lack of meat on the table, and Dejaneira's manner of dress. Yet, the real issue flickering through the domestic exchanges is their relationship to one another, and it emerges only through gesture, or through the meal ritual. For the duration of their scene together, the lovers will remain huddled around the soup pot, the length of their conversation determined by the temporal restrictions of the meal, and their remarks punctuated by the rigid formality of Dürrenmatt's particular table etiquette.

Beneath the typical interchanges of this scene lie verbal minefields, heavily charged with what remains unvoiced. The question of Dejaneira's naive state of undress—given a forest full of Elian "voyeurs"—can't be pursued, because it broaches the subject of their own relationship:

DEJANEIRA: Oh! (Sie bedeckt sich.)

DEJANEIRA: Mahlzeit.

HERKULES: Mahlzeit. (Sie beginnen zu essen.)

The domestic dialogue deteriorates further as it brushes the cause of their financial difficulties—Herkules' inability to support them:

DEJANEIRA: Das elische Nationalgericht.

HERKULES: Auch wie seit Monaten.

DEJANEIRA: Sonst gab es doch noch Speck dazu.

HERKULES: Speck können wir uns nicht mehr leisten. Die Reisespesen sind aufgebraucht.

DEJANEIRA: Könnten wir nicht einen gewissen Vorschuss-

HERKULES: Das Finanzamt ist dagegen.

DEJANEIRA: Essen wir weiter.

HERKULES: Essen wir weiter. (Sie essen weiter.)

In the background of this conversation lurks the shadow of an earlier disagreement in Thebes, an argument which had resulted in Dejaneira's threatened return to the more lucrative field of prostitution; only the spectre of that very private loss had persuaded Herkules to accept the Elian offer.

The silences which fall between Dejaneira and Herkules in this scene—meticulously punctuated by the mechanics of eating—are heavy with shared emotion. Each of the lovers feels compelled to speak, yet the verbal communication never matches their silent rapport. In their embarrassment and their bewilderment, they are curiously reminiscent of Kleist's Achilles and Penthesilea. Gerhard Bauer considers this phenomenon in his analysis of the love dialogue: "Es fällt allerdings auf—schon Goethe und Tieck haben darauf hingewiesen—da die Liebenden in der deutschen Dichtung nur dann beredt werden, wenn sie Differenzen auszutragen haben, also doch einen Zweck verfolgen, während sie ihre Übereinstimmung mehr durch Wortlosigkeit als durch spielerischen Austausch demonstrieren.

Again Dejaneira attempts to introduce the subject which neither has been able to articulate:

DEJANEIRA: Herkules.

HERKULES: Dejaneira?

DEJANEIRA: Eigentlich sind wir jetzt noch ruinierter als in Theben.

HERKULES: Eigentlich.

Only the circus director Tanlalos' abrupt appearance prevents the anticipated refrain ("DEJANEIRA: Essen wir weiter. / HERKULES: Essen wir weiter."), and the almost certain lapse into silence. In a reference to Brecht's Kaukasischer Kreidekreis, Bauer has termed such retreats into formality "das Übergewicht des Zeremoniells." The ceremonial circumlocutions-forming what we might term an increasingly "charged field"—build in intensity toward a central question.

A source of tension in the unfolding scene has been the contrastive compulsion of the two lovers to speak and their preference for silence. Now, as they burst into speech, the silent communion is lost and the lovers begin to speak past one another:

HERKULES: Hast du gehört, Dejaneira, was dieser unverschämte Kerl vorschlug?

DEJANEIRA: Gewi.

HERKULES: Ich hätte ihn den Felsen hinunterschmettern sollen.

DEJANEIRA (leise): Unser schönes Haus in Theben.

HERKULES: Ich lehne das Angebot selbstverständlich ab.

While Herkules is incensed at the offer to feature him in the circus and thus resolve their financial difficulties, Dejaneira broods over the beautiful home in Thebes now lost through a foreclosure. Her reaction to Tantalus' report of the news from Thebes—"(entsetzt): Unser Haus in der Kadmosstrasse?"—sounds the first notes of a building theme: "Haus in der Kadmosstrasse" / "goldene Burg Kadmeia" / "Garten."

Having again failed to reach one another through conversation, the lovers take the now familiar retreat into silence: "DEJANEIRA (seufzend): Essen wir weiter. / HERKULES: Essen wir weiter. / (Sie essen weiter.)" (403). This time it is Herkules who ventures into uncertain territory: "HERKULES: Dejaneira. / DEJANEIRA: Herkules?" Like Brecht's Simon, he has arrived at the real question by a circuitous route: "Willst du mich eigentlich noch heiraten?" None of the foregoing passages, so weighted with unexpressed emotion, were included in the radio version, where the love story had been of secondary importance.

It is at this point that the physically oriented Herkules attempts to express the unspeakable—typically, through gesture; for, in the course of his conversation his love for Dejaneira finds expression through a heightened appetite. His extra helpings revealingly occur at particularly painful points in the emotional exchange:

HERKULES: Willst du mich eigentlich noch heiraten? (Er schöpft sich einen neuen Teller voll.)

…

HERKULES: Nun, ich fürchte mich etwas davor. Ich bin doch vielleicht nicht sonderlich ein Mann für dich—mein Beruf … (Er schöpft sich einen neuen Teller voll.)

…

HERKULES: Liebst du ihn denn nicht, den Phyleus? (Er nimmt sich einen neuen Teller voll.)

The fact that Herkules can only express his love for Dejaneira through the meal was evident in an earlier discussion of Phyleus's hasty retreat:

HERKULES: Was hat der Junge? Er scheint verwirrt.

DEJANEIRA: Es gibt Momente im Leben eines jeden Mannes, wo ihm Bohnen und Rindfleisch trivial vorkommen.

HERKULES: Verstehe ich nicht. Als ich dich zum ersten Male sah, a ich nachher vor Begeisterung einen ganzen Ochsen auf.

In their vehicular capacity, the gestures of the meal must often communicate alone, without further elucidation. Bauer, referring to gesture in what he terms the "ungebundener Dialog," concludes: "was sie bedeuten, also dem Dialogpartner mitteilen, ist komplex und lasst sich in keinem anderen Medium vollständig ausdrücken."

Gradually and painfully, Herkules and Dejaneira touch on the possibility that genuine love may be beyond the reach of two such "embodied ideals":

DEJANEIRA: Ich zögereja auch ein wenig. Du bist ein Held, und ich liebe dich. Doch ich frage mich, ob ich für dich nicht ein Ideal bin, so wie du für mich ein Ideal bist.

HERKULES: Zwischen uns steht dein Geist, deine Schönheit und meine Taten und mein Ruhm, das willst du sagen, nicht wahr, Dejaneira?

DEJANEIRA: Ja, Herkules.

HERKULES: Siehst du, darum solltest du diesen reizenden Jungen heiraten, diesen Phyleus. Er liebt dich, er hat dich nötig und ihn kannst du lieben nicht als ein Ideal, sondern als einen unkomplizierten jungen Mann, der eine Frau wie dich braucht.

In the radio drama, Herkules' painful proposal had been motivated by his sympathy for the young Phyleus; in the stage play, he is driven by his failures, particularly his inability to rescue Dejaneira's beautiful home from the creditors, but also by his understanding of the nature of their relationship.

The lost paradise of Thebes weighs heavily on them both:

(Schweigen.)

(Dejaneira isst nicht weiter.)

DEJANEIRA (ängstlich): Ich soll hier in Elis bleiben?

HERKULES: Liebst du ihn denn nicht, den Phyleus? (Er nimmt sich einen Teller voll.)

DEJANEIRA: Doch. Ich liebe ihn.

HERKULES: Es ist deine Bestimmung, zu bleiben und die meine, zu gehen.

DEJANEIRA: Dieses Land ist so schrecklich.

HERKULES: Ich miste aus.

(Schweigen.)

…

DEJANEIRA: Ich sehe nie mehr Theben, nie mehr die Gärten, die goldene Burg Kadmeia, bleibe ich hier.

It is the sacrifice that a love for Phyleus requires—the permanent loss of Thebes—which now begins to obsess Dejaneira.

In the radio piece, Dejaneira's love of homeland had been treated satirically. There had been her tendency to "rave" about the fatherland, "war sie in der Fremde und besonders jetzt natürlich in Elis," while Herkules seemed more inclined to recall the predatory bankers and shopowners who "nested" on the cliffs of her "beloved Kadmeia." In the stage play, Dejaneira's grief over the lost paradise is handled on two levels simultaneously, the satirical and the pathetic:

O siebentoriges Theben, o meine goldene Burg Kadmeia, wie konnte ich euch verlassen! Eine barbarische und düstere Welt umgibt mich. Ich bin ratios und verzweifelt. Meine Seele ist voll schrecklicher Bilder … (389)

It is Herkules who—as Augias will later caution Phyleus—warns Dejaneira against dwelling in the past, and who reminds her of the "vision" of Thebes: "La fahren, was verloren ist. Errichte hier dein Theben, deine goldene Burg Kadmeia." Herkules' admonition is, in fact, a mirror speech of Augias' advice to his disheartened son: "Wage jetzt zu leben und hier zu leben, mitten in diesem gestaltlosen, wüsten Land…." If Dejaneira is true to her vision ("Dazu ist uns die Erde gegeben …, dass wir das Gestein zerbrechen und aus seinen Trümmern Tempel und Häuser bauen", she will remain behind to fulfill her awakening love for Phyleus and help him build anew from the wasteland that is Elis.

Momentarily suspended above the rapidly rising dung plains, on what Elisabeth Brock-Sulzer has termed an "oasis on the cliffs," the lovers have been forced into dialogue through the meal's intense compression of time and space. The fearful probing of the nature of their love has included their most intimate moments: "DEJANEIRA: Ich danke dir, mein Freund. / HERKULES: Ich werde dich nie vergessen." In the freedom of her decision, Dejaneira thinks to have found the resolve to pour out Nesso's blood, thus delivering her love for Herkules from the fetters of jealousy.

The challenge of scene ten has been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—a call to Dejaneira to descend from the heights of lofty idealism, toward the troubled, yet fertile plains of human endeavour. Her ultimate failure, to which she now bears witness in the thirteenth scene, is a failure to bridge the gulf between aesthetics and life, to anchor her dreams in the Herculean struggle of the everyday.

The degeneration of the meal in the second campfire, from a hearty Elian stew to a pitiful water soup, parallels both the material and emotional decline of the love pair. As Dejaneira crouches beside Herkules to warm her hands at the soup kettle, still in her wedding dress, their conversation takes up the threads of the earlier dinner; the structural character of the dialogue continues as well, each fragmented utterance now the painful attempt to give voice to defeat:

HERKULES: Dejaneira.

DEJANEIRA: Mein Freund?

HERKULES: Phyleus?

DEJANEIRA: Ich konnte ihn nicht heiraten. Ich habe ihn vor dem Hausaltar verlassen.

(Schweigen.)

HERKULES: Du weizsst, wie es um mich steht.

DEJANEIRA: Ich weiss.

HERKULES: Entscheide nun du.

DEJANEIRA: Wir gehen nach Stymphalien.

HERKULES: Dieses Land ist noch schmutziger als Elis.

DEJANEIRA: Ich werde bei dir sein.

HERKULES: Nun müssen wir beieinander bleiben.

Yet, the real grounds for Dejaneira's return defy articulation. She reasons finally: "Wir gehören auch zusammen." Dejaneira's inability to love freely and simply implies a capitulation to Fate, for as Polybios begins to push the pair toward Stymphalus his mistress turns back for the bowl of Nesso's blood: "Fast hätte ich sie vergessen." Herkules and Dejaneira are physically reunited, yet spiritually separated by the bowl.

Perhaps with some justification Timo Tuisanen has assumed: "Whatever Dürrenmatt may be, he is not a great poet of love"; yet in the 1963 Hercules drama, Dürrenmatt has accomplished some of the tenderest love scenes of his career. Such intimate moments would nevertheless be troublingly inadequate had they continued outside the greater philosophical conflict. In contrast to the earlier, radio version, Dürrenmatt plants the motivation for his pivotal dialogue of decision in the cliff-top meals, where the pressures of limited time and space can credibly exert their influence on the nearly mute participants. Thus in the later version, the final garden scene is given firm footing in the crisis of the two lovers; their mutual inability to persevere in a more gradual, evolutionary struggle anticipates the later response by the young Phyleus. As Augias had insisted to Herkules, "Du bist unser aller Prüfstein geworden."