[In the following essay, Schmidt assesses the satirical and ironic nature of Büchner's literary temperament.]

Ever since literary critics have been writing about Büchner, they have encountered unusual difficulty and frustration in defining his unique philosophy, aesthetics, and dramatic style. Definitions and labels proffered by one critic are quickly demolished by the next, who in re-examining the material, determines that designations such as “nihilist”, “atheist”, “revolutionary”, or “realist” are not the last word and are too limited in scope to aid in grasping the thought and writings of Georg Büchner. A case in point: the two articles on Büchner in Benno von Wiese's Das deutsche Drama¹ are both specifically directed against a nihilistic interpretation of Dantons Tod and Woyzeck, of which von Wiese himself is a leading proponent. Each critical appraisal uncovers new complexities and finer shadings in Büchner's works, and there can be no better tribute to the genius of this man than the tendency to return constantly to the little that exists by him and assess its value anew. If there is to be a last word, it will necessarily be as cautious and ambivalent as Büchner himself was. Herbert Lindenberger writes: “Büchner poses far more questions than he attempts to answer; his very technique, to the extent that his dramatic situations are re-examined in one analogous situation after another, eschews any air-tight answers.”² Critics need only turn to Büchner himself for an enlightened warning: we must not, like the Doctor, the Captain, or King Peter, escape complexity by retreating into the illusory security of formulas.

The coloration of Büchner's style is truly kaleidoscopic. The basic structural element of Büchner's dramaturgy, as Helmut Krapp points out, is the contrastive construction,³ through which Büchner brings about the artistic re-creation of the “Schöpfung, die glühend, brausend und leuchtend … sich jeden Augenblick neu gebiert.” (Dantons Tod, p. 40) Büchner's dramatic perspective is broad enough to accommodate a St. Just and a Marion, a King Peter and a Lena, a Doctor and a Marie, allowing these characters to exist on their own terms in their own environment. They are products of Büchner's intellect and intuition, which had to be extraordinary to produce such extraordinary figures.

In this respect critics face an even greater frustration. The sources for information on Büchner's personality are meager, and even the most important materials—Büchner's letters—are incomplete and inconclusive. Critics have attempted to construct a portrait of Büchner the writer, scientist, and politician from these sources, but such a portrait must necessarily remain a rough sketch. The sources are often unreliable: Büchner's letters to his parents were often designed to mislead them about his revolutionary activity; most of his letters have been extensively edited by Ludwig Büchner, and the originals are lost (see p. 753 of the 1922 Bergemann edition); many of the reminiscences about Büchner were written forty years after his death.

The purpose of this [essay] is to investigate the satiric tendencies in the personality of Georg Büchner as an extension of … textual analyses of his plays. Especially since the material on the playwright is so sparse, this [essay] cannot be much more than an appendix, for there is little in Büchnerian documentation … which would add to the interpretation of the plays. We aim at suppositions rather than at conclusions. This reappraisal of Büchner material is motivated by the conviction that there exist a number of misinterpretations and misapplications of these sources. …

Büchner's contrastive technique produces a constantly fluctuating attitude of affirmation and negation. Many interpreters have separated and analyzed the strands which constitute the fabric of his writings, and, while such investigations have greatly contributed to the understanding of the relationship between Büchner's studies in anatomy and medicine, his literary production, and his political activity, they occasionally create a false sense of proportion by giving too much weight to a chosen number of passages from his writings. This occurs most frequently in discussions of Büchner's aesthetic principles. By and large the discussions center on three sources: the “Kunstgespräch” between Camille and Danton in the scene, “Ein Zimmer” in Act II of Dantons Tod; Büchner's letter to his parents on Dantons Tod, written from Strassburg on July 28, 1835; and the “Kunstmonolog” in Lenz—all in all about five pages of text, not without repetition, having as a single theme the obligations of the artist to Nature. The three passages are of great relevance to the style and content of Lenz and the three plays, and they also shed light on Büchner's sympathies in the political sphere and on his anti-teleological position as set forth in his lecture, “Über Schädelnerven”. Yet there is, of course, much that is still unexplained,⁴ and other texts are used to fill some of the gaps: the fatalism which dominates Dantons Tod and Woyzeck is traced primarily to the letter to Minna Jaeglé, written presumably in November, 1833; the satiric elements of the plays are said to have evolved from the “Spott des Hasses” mentioned in the fiery letter to his parents in February, 1834. But these sources are still too limited to be valid bases for appraisal of important aspects of Büchner's dramas.

We have seen how complex and varied are the motivations of the satirist. Judging from this evidence, it is an oversimplification to say, as Viëtor⁵ and Mayer⁶ and many others have done, that Büchner is acting as a social critic and not as a true artist when he created King Peter's court, the Doctor, and the Captain. Such a formulation is not only restricting but actually a disparagement of Büchner, for it implies that there is relatively little artistic merit in a considerable part of his dramatic production. … Using the remarks on the purpose and technique of satire as a basis, the extant documentation on Büchner will now be examined for clues which will hopefully yield further insight into the temperament which created these caricatures.

Büchner's pre-university life is especially difficult to reconstruct. There exists some derivative poetry of no particular significance, a few unrelated remarks collected by Karl Emil Franzos, some idle marginal scribbling in notebooks, and a few compositions. The marginal notes—those that are not quotations from Shakespeare—are private little outcries of a spirited student trapped in a boring class. To pass the time he pokes fun at his teachers. Already there is a seed of antipathy against empty pathos in the words: “Scharfsinn, Verstand, gesunde Vernunft! lauter leere Namen.” (p. 458) The compositions dating from this period appear to be prescribed exercises, based on no particular convictions. This theory is strongly supported by Werner Lehmann's discovery that much of “Heldentod der vierhundert Pforzheimer” is copied from Fichte's “Rede an die deutsche Nation: Rede VIII”.⁷ It seems superfluous to elaborate upon the Fichtean influence upon this “Gymnasiast”, for Büchner at this point can hardly be called an independent thinker. Nevertheless, the fervent idealism expressed in these essays was not totally without influence later on; although Büchner soon turned to the more pragmatic French thinkers, his political views during the years at Strassburg and Giessen reflected an idealized belief in universal freedom and equality.

The most penetrating glimpse into Büchner's life in Darmstadt is afforded by the memoirs of Friedrich Zimmermann (pp. 552-554) and Ludwig Wilhelm Luck (pp. 555-559). Concerning Büchner's temperament, Zimmermann speaks of Büchner's “mächtig strebender Geist” which followed its own inclinations, and he calls him “ein kühner Skeptiker”.⁸ Luck's more detailed description bears this out, and the character traits he saw in Büchner are strikingly similar to the temperament of a satirist. “Es war jedoch nicht seine Art, sich andern ungeprüft und voreilig hinzugeben, er war vielmehr ein ruhiger, gründlicher, mehr zurückhaltender Beobachter”, reports Luck. However, he stresses that Büchner was by no means a cynic: “Wo er aber fand, dass jemand wirklich wahres Leben suchte, da konnte er auch warm, ja enthusiastisch werden.” Büchner and the Zimmermann brothers employed their quick intelligence “zu allerlei kritischem und humoristischem Wetteifer in Beurteilung der Zustände”, which Luck could appreciate but not take part in (“für den ich zu ernst und zu schwer war”, he adds modestly). Büchner had a pronounced taste for parody, spoofing clergymen with Shakespearian quotations (p. 558) and making fun of lectures in his notebooks.⁹ His sense of humor, which sustained him even in times of crisis, seems not to have been inherited from either parent. Büchner's father was a sober and dedicated physician, competent but unimaginative. His mother was of a far more sensitive, poetical nature, but she did not share her son's intellectual irony.¹⁰

Both Luck and Zimmermann mention Büchner's early interest in scientific, philosophical, and metaphysical questions. Luck notes an awakening of political consciousness, a growing awareness of the inequalities existing in the German states. The young Büchner seems to have been extremely active in the search for knowledge and mental stimulation, proceeding in many areas with the skeptical caution of the scientific observer. Whatever was assimilated was evaluated. Luck reports:

In seinem Denken und Tun durch das Streben nach Wesenhaftigkeit und Wahrhaftigkeit frühe durchaus selbständig, vermochte ihm keine äusserliche Autorität noch nichtiger Schein zu imponieren. Das Bewusstsein des erworbenen geistigen Fonds drängte ihn fortwährend zu einer unerbittlichen Kritik dessen, was in der menschlichen Gesellschaft oder Philosophie und Kunst Alleinberechtigung beanspruchte oder erlistete.—Daher sein vernichtender, manchmal übermütiger Hohn über Taschenspielerkünste Hegelischer Dialektik und Begriffsformulationen, z.B.: “Alles, was wirklich, ist auch vernünftig, und was vernünftig, auch wirklich.” Aufs tiefste verachtete er, die sich und andere mit wesenlosen Formeln abspeisten, anstatt für sich selbst das Lebensbrot der Wahrheit zu erwerben und es andern zu geben.

This passage provides a singularly appropriate commentary to the figures of King Peter, the Doctor, and the Captain. Luck continues: “Man sah ihm an, an Stirne, Augen und Lippen, dass er auch, wenn er schwieg, diese Kritik in seinem in sich verschlossnen Denken übte … Die zuckenden Lippen verrieten, wie oft er mit der Welt im Widerspruch und Streit lag.” Büchner's critical outlook was so much a part of his nature that his uncompromising personality often provoked dislike in those who could not gain his friendship or understand his views. Carl Vogt, a witness to Büchner's unhappy days in Giessen, describes Büchner as an intelligent but unapproachable revolutionary. (pp. 559-560)

Büchner's letters span a period of little more than five years. Fritz Bergemann's summary of the insights they offer is apt: “Hier spricht der Dichter unmittelbar aus, was ihn bewegt, verstimmt, beschäftigt, hier lernen wir ihn als Menschen kennen in seiner sprühenden Laune und seiner sensiblen Reizbarkeit, in seinem sozialen Mitgefühl und seinem revolutionären Zorn, in seiner Naturfreude, seiner teilnehmenden Freundschaft und seiner trauten Zwiesprache mit der Geliebten, auch in seinem beruflichen Streben, seiner künstlerischen und politischen Meinungsbildung und seiner weltanschaulichen Gesinnung.” (Nachwort, p. 602) The letters, like the plays, reflect a wide spectrum of interest and activity, as well as abrupt changes of moods. Already in the first extant letter there appears a perplexing Büchnerian twist. Almost as an afterthought, Büchner seems to deflate his own idealism. He describes the reception in Strassburg of the Polish General Ramorino, a leader in the recently suppressed Polish revolution. Ramorino was heralded as a symbol of the liberal freedom movement flourishing during the 1830's. Büchner was among the students who broke through police barriers to welcome Ramorino. His description of the event is coolly objective, and he concludes with the words: “Darauf erscheint Ramorino auf dem Balkon, dankt, man ruft Vivat—und die Komödie ist fertig.” (p. 366) It does not seem likely that these words were meant to mislead Büchner's parents regarding his political interests, for he had just arrived in Strassburg, and political involvement would have had dangerous consequences only if Büchner were still in Germany. “Und die Komödie ist fertig” is in retrospect not as surprising as at first, for the tone of the letter is singularly dry. The phrase most probably indicates Büchner's dislike of ceremonies and demonstrations which have no practical results.¹¹ Büchner constantly strove toward the concrete goal; he demanded action which would effect lasting change—and herein lies his idealism. “Was nennt Ihr denn gesetzlichen Zustand?” he writes in 1833. “… dies Gesetz ist eine ewige, rohe Gewalt, angetan dem Recht und der gesunden Vernunft, und ich werde mit Mund und Hand dagegen kämpfen, wo ich kann. Wenn ich an dem, was geschehen, keinen Teil genommen und an dem, was vielleicht geschieht, keinen Teil nehmen werde, so geschieht es weder aus Missbilligung noch aus Furcht, sondern nur weil ich im gegenwärtigen Zeitpunkt jede revolutionäre Bewegung als eine vergebliche Unternehmung betrachte und nicht die Verblendung derer teile, welche in den Deutschen ein zum Kampf für sein Recht bereites Volk sehen.” (p. 369) The latter statement is belied by Büchner's later revolutionary activity, but his basic attitude—the critical examination of every factor of a problem, the flexible perspective—never changed. Even Der Hessische Landbote, a tract of firm conviction and urgency, was not a blind gamble. August Becker stated in court: “Mit der von ihm [Büchner] geschriebenen Flugschrift wollte er vorderhand nur die Stimmung des Volks und der deutschen Revolutionärs erforschen. Als er später hörte, dass die Bauern die meisten gefundenen Flugschriften auf die Polizei abgeliefert hätten, als er vernahm, dass sich auch die Patrioten gegen seine Flugschrift ausgesprochen, gab er alle seine politischen Hoffnungen in bezug auf ein Anderswerden auf.” (“Aus August Beckers gerichtlichen Angaben”, p. 562.) The definitive manner in which Becker announces the termination of Büchner's political activity was designed to protect Büchner from arrest. Büchner continued his secret political agitation after his return to Darmstadt in August, 1834. Becker significantly uses the word “erforschen”; Büchner wrote and distributed the Landbote as an experiment so that he might observe the impact of his viewpoint (which differed from that of Weidig and other more moderate co-revolutionaries) upon the masses. The experiment failed, but Büchner, proceeding in a scientific fashion, had gained valuable insight into his audience—a must for a political satirist who seeks to reform his public through his writings. Although the experience was a disappointment, Büchner remained level-headed enough to register a brazen complaint against the very authorities who were seeking to implicate him in revolutionary activity. (pp. 385-388) To this, too, Büchner might have added the epitaph, “und die Komödie ist fertig”.

Despite Büchner's tendency to disparage his own beliefs, his antipathy toward the oppressors of the masses was unwavering. We have [elsewhere] spoken of the “Spott des Hasses” which Büchner directs against those who scorn those socially beneath them. The political situation in France, Büchner writes, “ist doch nur eine Komödie. Der König und die Kammern regieren, und das Volk klatscht und bezahlt”. (Strassburg, December, 1832, p. 367) As for Germany: “Unsere Landstände sind eine Satire auf die gesunde Vernunft.” (Strassburg, April 5, 1833, p. 368) Or, in a letter dating from Büchner's second sojourn in Strassburg: “Der König von Bayern lässt unsittliche Bücher verbieten! da darf er seine Biographie nicht erscheinen lassen, denn die wäre das Schmutzigste, was je geschrieben worden! Der Grossherzog von Baden, erster Ritter vom doppelten Mopsorden, macht sich zum Ritter vom Heiligen Geist und lässt Gutzkow arretieren, und der liebe deutsche Michel glaubt, es geschähe alles aus Religion und Christentum und klatscht in die Hände.” (January 1, 1836, p. 407)

In these instances Büchner is writing with a satirist's pen. He demeans his victims with uncomplimentary appellations; he relies heavily upon irony and sarcasm, seeking out damaging contradiction, and he does not refrain from name-calling. In his words: “Es fällt mir nicht mehr ein, vor den Paradegäulen und Eckstehern der Geschichte mich zu bücken.” (Giessen, November, 1833, p. 374) In the Landbote, he intensifies and animates his style through satiric imagery. In the letter of 1836, he is not being polemical, but he savors the ironies of political decrees and actions. His desire for direct action is sublimated into verbal ridicule.

In this connection it is especially regrettable that Büchner's drama about Pietro Aretino has never been found. According to a letter written less than two months before his death, Büchner informed his fiancée Minna Jaeglé that he was planning to publish Leonce und Lena and two other dramas. (p. 422) Franzos discovered the Woyzeck manuscripts in 1879, but the drama mentioned by Ludwig Büchner in his edition of his brother's works (1850) never appeared. Pietro Aretino (1492-1556) was a writer of comedies and satiric poetry—not a literary satirist, but a satirist with a vengeance. He used his wit as a powerful weapon, wielding it daringly for his personal advantage, unscrupulously, cynically, often obscenely. His talents enabled him to rise from a lowly origin to become the friend of Giovanni de' Medici, Francis I of France, and the pope. He became rich by extorting money from nobles by threatening them with the power of his satire. In his own estimation he was “divine” and the “scourge of princes”.¹²

It is obvious why Büchner was attracted to Aretino: a poor man rises to challenge and dominate the aristocracy with the might of his pen; a satirist fearlessly exposes the weaknesses of an unjust society, disregarding conventional standards of order and morality. In personality and outlook the Italian and the German differed greatly, but both shared an esprit libre which could not be contained by their restrictive environments. There remains the fascinating question: how did Büchner mold Aretino into a Büchnerian hero?

Now that Büchner's satiric tendencies have been touched upon, it is necessary once again to point out that satire was not his primary goal, either artistically or otherwise, nor can he be called exclusively a satirist in temperament. Büchner was a great ironist, but the root of his irony was not based on an attacker-victim relationship. To repeat his words: “Man nennt mich einen Spötter. Es ist wahr, ich lache oft; aber ich lache nicht darüber, wie jemand ein Mensch, sondern nur darüber, dass er ein Mensch ist, wofür er ohnehin nichts kann, und lache dabei über mich selbst, der ich sein Schicksal teile.” (pp. 377-378) This is more than satiric laughter. The satirist laughs at people, at their weaknesses, either out of personal enjoyment or out of the desire to improve his fellow men. Büchner's is a laughter of general despair, based on the recognition of the smallness of his own self, impotent against fate. This self-irony was, as we have seen, deeply rooted in his personality, and time and again he makes light of projects in which he was deeply involved. He speaks slightingly of his plays, calling them “Ferkeldramen” (p. 535; Gutzkow is apparently quoting Büchner in this letter), he makes fun of his projected lectures on philosophy: “Ich habe mich jetzt ganz auf das Studium der Naturwissenschaften und der Philosophie gelegt und werde in kurzem nach Zürich gehen, um in meiner Eigenschaft als überflüssiges Mitglied der Gesellschaft meinen Mitmenschen Vorlesungen über etwas ebenfalls höchst Überflüssiges, nämlich über die philosophischen Systeme der Deutschen seit Cartesius und Spinoza, zu halten.” (p. 417) At one point he sees himself as a model for a grotesque caricature: “Ich hätte Herrn Callot-Hoffmann sitzen können”—a reference to E. T. A. Hoffmann, who had written Phantasiestücke in Callots Manier, based on the sketches of Jacques Callot (1592-1635). That this trait was more than just modesty is evident in that self-irony functions as a significant stylistic element in Dantons Tod and Leonce und Lena. Danton, his friends, Leonce, and Valerio are constantly holding up mirrors to themselves and laughing at their reflections. Their wit acts as a balm against the pain of existence; it lets them hold the world—and themselves—at a distance, whereby they preserve their conscious identities. For Büchner and his heroes, wit is activity—mental stimulation, a release from the chronic boredom which afflicts the perceptive individual. Danton and Leonce are for the most part dramatically inert—here they differ sharply from their spiritual cousin Hamlet—they are observers, as was Büchner himself. Yet neither of them is sure of his own vantage point. Self-doubt is made tolerable through self-irony. Self-deprecation is the only sure check against self-deception. A primary commandment of Büchnerian philosophy is that man must recognize his nature and live according to his potential; he cannot build existence upon an illusion. His fellow men are as he is, subject to the same painful mortality. Yet within this common fate there rests a powerful affirmation of existence: kinship and warmth among men. At one point in his correspondence Büchner elevates this attitude above the satiric with indisputable clarity: “Ich hoffe noch immer, dass ich leidenden, gedrückten Gestalten mehr mitleidige Blicke zugeworfen als kalten, vornehmen Herzen bittere Worte gesagt habe.” (Giessen, February, 1834, p. 378) The balance is in favor of sympathy, not sarcasm, and Büchner's works bear this out. Their most remarkable feature is their depth of compassion for the human condition—the abandoned Lenz and Woyzeck, the doubting philosophers Danton and Leonce, the spontaneous warmth of Marion, Julie, Lucile, Lena, and Marie. Deep sensitivity and love suffuse Büchner's letters to Minna Jaeglé, and this “selige Empfindung” sustained him through periods of illness and mental depression. His scientific works reflect an admiration for the limitless diversity of nature. Those who have isolated themselves from the wholeness of life Büchner demolishes with the weapons of satire. Satire is in his works a servant of his affirmation of existence.

Notes

1. Walter Höllerer, “Dantons Tod”, Das deutsche Drama, Vol. II, Benno von Wiese, ed. (Düsseldorf, 1960), pp. 65-88; Kurt May, “Büchner: Woyzeck” (same volume), pp. 89-100.

2. Georg Büchner, p. 94.

3. Der Dialog bei Georg Büchner, p. 145.

4. It is revealing that Helmut Krapp, who bases his analysis of Büchner's style largely on the principles outlined in the passages mentioned above, neglects entirely the characterizations which seem to come from another creative impulse (i.e., King Peter, the Doctor, the Captain, etc.).

5. Georg Büchner, p. 192.

6. Georg Büchner und seine Zeit, p. 438.

7. “Prolegomena zu einer historisch-kritischen Büchner-Ausgabe”.

8. See also Büchner's diploma, where C. Dilthey, the school director, writes: “Den Religionsstunden hat er mit Aufmerksamkeit beigewohnt und in denselben manche treffliche Beweise von selbständigem Nachdenken gegeben … von seinem klaren und durchdringenden Verstande hegen wir eine viel zu vorteilhafte Ansicht, als dass wir glauben könnten, er würde jemals durch Erschlaffung, Versäumnis oder voreilig absprechende Urtheile seinem eigenen Lebensglück im Wege stehen.” (p. 552)

9. According to Franzos, Büchner once rewrote Schiller's “Graf Eberhard der Greiner” in the Swabian dialect, but nothing more is known about this. (Georg Büchner's Sämmtliche Werke, xxiii.)

10. Hans Mayer, Georg Büchner und seine Zeit, pp. 32-39.

11. Mayer, p. 67.

12. “Pietro Aretino”, Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th ed. (1911), Vol. II, p. 456.