[In the following excerpt, Krispyn presents an overview of “expressionist” writers in Germany, emphasizing that their goals and style diverged too widely to fit under the umbrella of Expressionism.]

The ambivalent feelings with which the expressionists from their position on the periphery of society regarded their fellow citizens determined the expressionist world view. Their feeling of hostility towards the community from which they were excluded, and whose values they had recognized as spurious, accounts for the critical outlook which became their most striking common characteristic. As Fritz Martini declares, “Die alles aufregende, noch heute keineswegs nur historisch gewordene Wirkung der expressionistischen Bewegung lag darin, dass sie rücksichtslos alles Gegebene, Bestehende, Überlieferte in Frage stellte, alle verbürgten, scheinbar endgültigen Ordnungen umwarf und durchstrich.”¹

At the same time, however, the positive side of their ambivalent feelings concerning society and the natural reaction to their loneliness and torturing isolation caused them to go beyond a purely negative attitude toward the existing state of affairs. Opposition to the status quo was not their only aim; they were also—at least potentially—inspired by some view or concept of a better world which was to take the place of the Wilhelmian reality they rejected.

These two notions gave the expressionists the urge to destroy symbolically the world and authority of the “fathers,” not as a nihilistic end in itself, but in order to pave the way for a better, higher form of life. The desired destruction of the existing order was, in other words, a purgatory act with which the messianic expressionist wanted to prepare mankind for the advent of a superior pattern of existence. With reference to the inter-generation tension in which the position of the expressionists generally manifested itself, it could be said that they did not just want to kill their fathers to be rid of them; they wanted to raise them to a higher plane of humanity. The expressionists were not nihilists, but wanted the authority to which they were subjected to be worthy of their respect and reverence.

Among the expressionists there were, however, vast differences in the relative importance which they assigned to the destruction of the old world and to the creation of a new one. At one end of the scale there were those who really had no clear conception of what should replace the existing pattern of life. They were almost completely engrossed by the idea of the prerequisite demolition of the established order, and what lay beyond it occurred to them at best in occasional, almost fleeting prospects of undefined and unspecified serenity or felicity. An extreme instance of this negative outlook is that of Georg Heym, as appears from such well-known diary entries as “Warum ermordet man nicht den Kaiser oder den Zaren? Man lässt sie ruhig weiter schädlich sein. Warum macht man keine Revolution? … Würden einmal wieder Barrikaden gebaut. Ich wäre der erste, der sich darauf stellte, ich wollte noch mit der Kugel im Herzen den Rausch der Begeisterung spüren.”²

In contrast to such predominantly “negative” expressionists there were those who acknowledged the need of overthrowing the Establishment as an inevitable preparatory step, but focused their attention mainly on the new world they wanted to establish on the ruins of the old.

These writers can be divided into two major categories depending upon the nature of their ideal world image. First, there were those who envisaged the future in terms of a society reorganized along definite political lines, invariably based on a communist or socialist ideology. Ernst Toller provides an example of this type of expressionist who saw the salvation of mankind in the replacement of the existing social order by a different one. A brief survey of his activities during the latter part of the war and the subsequent revolutionary days reads, “Organisiert mit Kurt Eisner den Widerstand gegen den Krieg. Beteiligt am Streik der Munitionsarbeiter in München 1918. Verhaftet, im November freigelassen. Vorsitzender der Arbeiter-, Bauern- und Soldatenräte in München. Spielte eine führende Rolle in der bayerischen Räterepublik 1919. Im Juni 1919 verhaftet, zu 5 Jahren Festung verurteilt.”³

Second, there was a group that pinned its hopes, not on a reorganization of society, but on the intrinsic qualities of the human soul. These writers were convinced of mankind's innate goodness, which they considered to be restrained and prevented from asserting itself by the strait jacket of objectionable social codes and conventions into which the individual was forced. They visualized the redemption of man as a liberation of the elemental forces which he harbored in his soul. If the social compulsion which kept these potential spiritual powers in bondage could in any way whatever be overcome, all mankind would be united in universal love. A feeling of brotherhood would draw all men into one happy community without barriers or discriminations. Any social organization whatever would, of course, constitute a serious obstacle on the road toward such a blissful state of humane anarchy.

Those who embraced as their ideal the establishment of a new world founded solely on the hypothesis that man is basically good tended therefore to deviate somewhat from the other types of expressionist in their attitude towards the Establishment. Whereas both the negativistic and the political expressionists opposed the specific form of social organization found in Middle Europe at the beginning of the modern technological age, the “anarchists” were inclined to reject the idea of society as such, thereby rising to some extent above the very subjective and limited perspective of the others. René Schickele exemplifies the type of expressionist who passionately believes that man is good, when, with an allusion to Novalis, (which in itself is significant) he associates the emergence of a new, liberated humanity with the unveiling of the statue of Sais. “Ein Gesicht erscheint im Atmosphärenwust der Angst und Lüge: das Gesicht des Menschen. Das Gesicht einer Kreatur, überirdisch glänzend.”⁴

In spite of their divergent formulations of the basic expressionist attitude against the old order and in favor of a new ideal, expressionist writers from all three groups shared one fundamental desire. They all wanted to bring about certain changes in the world which would make it conform to their own standards, so that they might be delivered from their outsidership and be integrated in the community. And this reformation of reality was to be achieved by means of their writing; their creative activity was intended to bring about the downfall of the old and the establishment of a new pattern of existence.

Their writing was not to be a record of their private ideas, not the immediate embodiment of mental processes based on the poet's emotional experience in a symbolic form which requires the reader's sympathetic understanding and initiative in order to be intelligible. The expressionists wanted to break through their isolation and establish contact with their fellows; they were driven by the desire to affect them and their outlook on the world. Therefore they addressed their work to a public which was to be forcefully called to attention and influenced.

This rhetorical approach manifested itself in general in the large number of periodicals and broadsheets published by the expressionists and in the activities of the numerous cabarets. Among the latter the Neopathetische Cabaret in Berlin played a particularly important part in the emergence of the early expressionist movement. It was an enterprise of the equally important Neue Club, founded in March, 1909, by Kurt Hiller, which counted Georg Heym, Jakob van Hoddis, and Ernst Blass among its most creatively gifted members.⁵

The expressionists' tendency to use their creative talent to gain the ear of their fellow citizens and, above all, influence them in their ideas and their way of living is programmatically expressed in the opening lines of Johannes R. Becher's Vorbereitung:

Der Dichter meidet strahlende Akkorde.
Er stösst durch Tuben, peitscht die Trommel schrill.
Er reisst das Volk auf mit gehackten Sätzen.(6)

Even more explicit in this respect is the speech with which Kurt Hiller, in October, 1912, introduced his literary Cabaret Gnu:

Meine Herren, meine Damen!

Sie erwarten jetzt Sätze zu hören über den sogenannten Zweck dieses Cabarets. Mit dem, was Sie sich selber sagen können, möchte ich Sie nicht langweilen: nämlich damit, dass hier eine junge Gruppe von Litteraten durch Gesprochnes die Wirkung verstärken will, die ihr das bloss Geschriebne, infolge der Schlechtigkeit oder Abhängigkeit fast aller Journale, in nur schwachem Grade bietet. … Verlogen oder sehr dumm ist ein Künstler, stellt er in Abrede, dass sein Tun, das blosse Kunst-Schaffen, bereits ein Mittel sei, Macht über Gemüter (und nicht nur über Gemüter!) zu gewinnen.⁷

Otto Mann summarizes the aspirations of the expressionists when he describes their attitude in the words: “Es soll wieder eine wirkungsmächtigere Kunst geschaffen werden.”⁸

Thus it is clear that the expressionists strove for persuasive, efficacious literary expression of their unhappy outsidership and consequent ambivalent attitude towards society. Their world image's fundamental polarity, with Establishment and ideal as the respective objects of their hatred and yearning, appeared on the individual level either as all-absorbing hostility toward established values and concepts, or as preoccupation with the new world which was to rise out of the ruins of the old. The positive ideal could either be of a socio-political nature, or be envisaged as a state of happy anarchy based only on man's supposed inherent goodness.

The three types of attitude found among the expressionists are reflected in expressionist writing, which can be analogously divided into three groups. Depending upon the peculiar nature of the individual talents, each of these subdivisions in itself includes a variety of techniques and approaches. In spite of such differences in execution, all literature which is traditionally regarded as undoubtedly expressionist displays one of three possible attitudes. Corresponding to the three types of mental attitude, expressionist writing either fanatically attacks the status quo, giving only incidental and unspecified glimpses of a better world, or it evokes visions of an ideal community without dwelling on the necessity to overcome the old order first. The ideal itself can be a new social organization, or an anarchic brotherhood of men based only on mutual love.

It should perhaps be stressed that the three types and the three literary patterns so described are theoretical constructions representing the extremes of a sliding scale. “Pure” types are rare; it is the predominance of traits belonging to one type over those pertaining to others which is decisive. Even with the latter reservation, one can ascribe a type only to individual pieces of writing, not collectively to the work of an author who may change his mind or be subject to emotions which temporarily color his views. In most cases there is likely to be a large degree of consistency in the writings of one person, especially over a limited period of time; however, the exceptions are too numerous to ignore.

For the following interpretations which will demonstrate the three patterns of expressionist writing, texts have been selected which, each in its own way, are unambiguously representative of a particular trend. First those works are to be considered in which negative, destructive criticism of the existing state of affairs is the predominant feature, while positive aspects play a minimal role and are represented only in isolated, unspecific allusions to a better world. In the general objurgatory atmosphere which by their very nature pervades such writings, the idealistic elements are very frequently couched in an ironical tone. Often, too, the unattainability of the ideal is implied, thus strengthening the pessimistic portent of the work, or else the author did no more than introduce a fleeting vision of serenity into an otherwise ugly and repulsive scene. In spite of such qualifying circumstances, the presence of positive traits, no matter how slight or in what context, hints at the existence of the possibility of an ideal.

Among exponents of this current, one could mention Gustav Sack, for instance in his poem Bagatelle which gives a very negative picture of the big city as the epitome of the beginning technological era.

In eine neue Bude zog ich ein!
Ein schiefer Tisch, ein krummer Stuhl,
eines wackligen Bettes Unzuchtpfuhl—
in diese Bude zog ich ein.
Garküchen unter mir und Kegelbahnen,
mir gegenüber 'ne verdreckte Wand
und über mir ein kleines blaues Band
mit feinen weissen Wolkenfahnen.
Was soll ich hier? Was will, was kann ich hier?
Doch so war's immer schon:
Armut und Dreck und wie zum Hohn
leuchtet ein Fetzen Himmel mir.(9)

In this poem the references to the blue sky, which relieve the sordidness of the work, symbolize the polarity of the author's world view. A similar antithesis is sometimes introduced by Georg Heym, in whose work the positive elements also play a very minor, but by no means negligible, role. His poetic technique for attacking the established order is, however, very different from Sack's references in Bagatelle to the less savory aspects of the big city.

In Heym's work the prevailing concept of life is denied and contradicted through the postulation of a viewpoint which differs radically from the generally accepted anthropocentric one. Heym created a universe in which man is not the supreme force whose rational powers can subjugate and use the whole of nature for his own purpose, i.e., progress in the materialistic sense. In his works a de-animated humanity, reduced to utter insignificance in the cosmic order, is the passive victim of a cruel and inexorable fate. This reversal of the current conception of the world can be traced throughout Heym's entire work, including poetry, drama, and prose.¹⁰ It may here be illustrated with the aid of his best known poem Der Krieg. It describes the emergence of the demon of war out of his subterranean realm and his devastating progress over the earth, in the course of which the vulnerability and helplessness of humanity reveal themselves in its blind panic and unheroic, collective suffering and death. In the second and third stanzas of the poem, Heym depicts the shadow thrown ahead by the approaching catastrophe and shows how it casts a spell over the people, halting their movements and arousing fear and uncertainty in them.

In den Abendlärm der Städte fällt es weit,
Frost und Schatten einer fremden Dunkelheit.
Und der Märkte runder Wirbel stockt zu Eis.
Es wird still. Sie sehn sich um. Und keiner weiss.
In den Gassen fasst es ihre Schulter leicht.
Eine Frage. Keine Antwort. Ein Gesicht erbleicht.
In der Ferne zittert ein Geläute dünn,
Und die Bärte zittern um ihr spitzes Kinn.

The next quatrain begins with the lines:

Auf den Bergen hebt er schon zu tanzen an,
Und er schreit: “Ihr Krieger alle, auf und an!”

This summons to the warriors stresses the crucial fact about Heym's treatment of the subject matter: war is represented, not as an inter-human, but as a super-human phenomenon; it presses mankind into its service; man does not “make” war for his own purposes. The fate of those enlisted under the banners of war is death.

Wo der Tag flieht, sind die Ströme schon voll Blut.
Zahllos sind die Leichen schon im Schilf gestreckt,
Von des Todes starken Vögeln weiss bedeckt.

No better lot than the warriors meet with awaits the fleeing civilians.

Und was unten auf den Strassen wimmelnd flieht,
Stösst er in die Feuerwälder, wo die Flamme brausend zieht.

That there is no direct mention of the people, but only the derogatory reference to their swarming flight, is a characteristic indication of the wretched, victimized anonymity of these human lives. These visions of passive human suffering reach a climax in the next to last quatrain, with the collective annihilation of mankind in the collapsing, burning city.

Eine grosse Stadt versank in gelbem Rauch,
Warf sich lautlos in des Abgrunds Bauch.

The utter negativism and pessimism of Heym's world view as exemplified in this poem is, however, in a few cases relieved through the introduction of a final vision of serenity and beauty which seems to hold some hope for mankind by implying that there must be some escape from its plight. An example of this is the stanza which ends a depressing and dehumanized depiction of a Laubenfest:

Im blauen Abend steht Gewölke weit,
Delphinen mit den rosa Flossen gleich,
Die schlafen in der Meere Einsamkeit.

The ideal which is only wistfully and indirectly alluded to in this category of expressionist literature forms the main theme of the other patterns of expressionism, in which the criticism and the poetic destruction of the existing world are an essential but subordinate preparation for the postulation of a utopian world image. As pointed out, in many cases the expressionist sees the salvation of mankind in the establishment of a new social order. The better world which these writers look forward to is seen as something to be consciously conceived and organized by themselves and their friends. The authors concerned play the parts of messianic agitators and reformers.

The first half of Reinhard Sorge's Der Bettler, one of the earliest dramas of the expressionist era, illustrates the pattern.¹¹ In this lyrical drama the denunciation of the status quo in its artistic and moral aspects takes place in the early scenes with the critics and prostitutes. Yet it amounts to a distortion of the facts when the play is characterized as an unmasking of the “Entartung des Gesellschafts- und Kulturlebens.”¹²

This critical element forms by no means the substance of the work, but is merely a preparation for the visions of a new world. One of these stems from the young poet himself; the other from his insane father. The relationship between these two figures is a very important factor in the play. Although there is mention of the fact that the poet is unhappy at home, Otto Mann misses the point when he states, “In Sorge's Bettler revoltiert der junge Dichter gegen ein bedrückendes Milieu.”¹³ Under the circumstances, the young poet's unhappiness about his environment is quite natural, and it only serves to motivate the Maecenas' offer of a stipend, the refusal of which leads the poet on to expound his utopian vision.

Far from posing a generation problem in the customary expressionist manner, the figure of the father introduces a variation on the son's theme of a better world to come. Each sees himself as the chosen redeemer of mankind, and takes upon himself the task of bringing about an improvement in the lot of humanity. This is very clearly expressed in the poet's words. “Ich will die Welt auf meine Schultern nehmen / Und sie mit Lobgesang zur Sonne tragen.”

Walter Sokel points out the similarity which in this respect exists between father and son. “The Father constitutes a musical variation of the Messiah theme in The Beggar. His megalomaniacal Messianic dream functions as a counterpoint to the Son's search for meaning and salvation.” But this commentator overemphasizes the father's materialism. “In contrast to the Son's idealism, the Father represents the materialistic counterpoint in the composition. He misinterprets the Messianic theme materialistically as technical progress and enrichment.”¹⁴

That the father's vision goes beyond such narrow-minded materialism is indicated by his comparison of the sailing ships with doves. “Das sind die Tauben, die ich liebe.” What he says about the bridges also shows that technical progress and riches are not his sole aim. “Oh Segen! Breite / Bruderbrücken binden Ufer und Ufer! / Ja, brüderlich!” In this context it is relevant that his vision concludes with the words: “Alle Wunder! Alle Wunder!” But the father's aim is best characterized by the striking similarity between his grandiose dream and the parts of Faust II in which the scene of Faust's final activities is described. The motifs of the canals which mean happiness, the ports, the ships, and the emphasis on the fertility of the transformed world, all occur in Faust in speeches by Philemon and Baucis,¹⁵ Lynceus der Türmer,¹⁶ and Faust himself.¹⁷ The connection between the two works even extends to der Weisheit letzter Schluss: Faust's stress on the fact that man has to be diligent and brave in order to deserve the good life on his land, expressed in terms such as “kühn-emsig” and “tüchtig,” is echoed in the father's line: “Ja, Segen! Brot und Mark schwankt in den Lüften.” The same motifs occur in the young poet's vision. “Hungernde Mädchen, / Die um ihr unecht Kind sich mager mühen, / Sollen dort Brot finden.” And somewhat later, “Männer aber / Sollen die Stirnen härten an Leid und Lust.”

The difference between the two visions is one of accent only; the father concentrates on the development of the earth's resources as the source of the blessed, marvelous state of mankind his dream evokes, while the son hopes to achieve the same end through his own theater, which is to be “Das Herz der Kunst: aus allen Ländern strömen / Die Menschen alle an die heilige Stätte / Zur Heiligung, nicht nur ein kleines Häuflein / Erlesener!” This vision of a classless and international audience, which may well have been inspired by Wagner's original intentions for Bayreuth, provides the most specific socio-political symbol of Sorge's ideal of a better world to be found in this play.

Other authors in the socio-politically inclined form of expressionism had a more practical and realistic conception of the forces which shape society. An example may be found in Ernst Wilhelm Lotz' well known poem Aufbruch der Jugend. The first five stanzas conjure up visions of revolutionary turmoil and the forceful overthrow of the established order. The final quatrain then reads:

Beglänzt von Morgen, wir sind die verheissnen Erhellten,
Von jungen Messiaskronen das Haupthaar umzackt,
Aus unsern Stirnen springen leuchtende, neue Welten,
Erfüllung und Künftiges, Tage, sturmüberflaggt!

In these verses the poet represents the tradition of the self-proclaimed redeemer, which in this period was widely revived because of the authors' personal situation. Nailed on the cross by the world they lived in, they tried to comfort themselves by equating their fate with that of Christ. “The crucified is also the savior. Persecuted at present, he will inherit the kingdom of the elect. Those who scorn him now will one day throng to the theaters and museums to worship him.”¹⁸

The drops of blood which the crown of thorns draws from their foreheads are the new worlds of the future, in which their ideas have found fulfillment. This last image indicates not only the cerebral approach of the poet, but also the fact that he regards himself as the originator of a new order. In its extreme forms the approach represented by Lotz could lead to a disregard of artistic quality for the sake of political agitation, as can be observed in the works of such writers as Johannes R. Becher and Ludwig Rubiner.

Besides the negativistic and the socio-political trends, a third basic category is distinguishable in the realizations of the central expressionistic constellation of negative and positive concepts. It also emphasizes the latter, introducing destructive criticism of the established values and institutions only as a preliminary step to the establishment of a better society. This pattern presents the view that the faults inherent in the old order are to be overcome, not by organizing life in a new and better way, but by simply letting man's basic instincts guide him in a social vacuum. The writers stress the essential goodness of mankind, which, if only the influence of the existing order could be eliminated or overcome, would bring all men together in harmony and mutual love.

One such work is Carl Hauptmann's Krieg. Ein Tedeum, which depicts the total destruction of established civilization and society in a war organized by the great powers and international finance. Afterwards, out of ruins and holes the cripples emerge, who, at first hesitantly, establish a relationship of mutual trust in spite of their national origin and social status in the old world. This new tentative atmosphere of universal brotherhood is subsequently confirmed in the emotional upsurge caused by the birth of the new man.¹⁹

The basic attitude from which these works sprang could also express itself in an entirely different manner. Thus a similar confidence in the essential goodness of mankind motivates Carl Sternheim's satirical play Die Hose.²⁰ In this so-called comedy the faults of the bourgeois world are illuminated through the contrast between those who have undergone its corroding influence on their personalities and the primitively vital Maske, who under the cloak of outward conformity has asserted his independence of the stifling code. Sternheim, in attacking the middle-class world, shows that basically the bourgeois is a person of estimable qualities which are prevented from coming to the surface because of the unpropitious spirit of the age.

This interpretation of Die Hose deviates from the view held by Carol Petersen, who sees in the comedy an ironically exaggerated exposé of the bourgeois vices as embodied in Maske. “In diesem Stück gab ein offenbar fanatischer Entlarver seinen Figuren etwas von seiner Kälte mit. … Der Dichter hatte sie stilisiert, liess ein Netz über sie werfen, in dem sie alle verzweifelt zappelten, ohne aus ihrer Umgarnung herauszukommen. Theobald Maske hiess der Mann, der dies Netz am gestreckten Arm hielt, selber eine überdimensionale Emanation niederer Begierden. Emporkommen, unbekümmert um Tränen und Opfer Getretener, schien der einzige Sinn seiner einträglichen Beatmung [sic].”²¹

This viewpoint oversimplifies the interrelationship of the characters; Maske's main counterpart Scarron, for instance, is not caught up in a net held by the other, but in his own “impotence of the heart.”²² When Luise offers herself to him, Theobald intervenes neither in the flesh nor in the spirit, and Scarron fails for no other reason than that love to him is only a word, not an emotion. Walter Sokel's opinion of Die Hose does take this circumstance into account, and avoids the error of seeing Maske as the ruthless Untermensch who demoniacally terrorizes the other characters. This commentator thus arrives at a more differentiated judgment on the bourgeois husband. “Crude and egotistical though he is, Maske can love. In contrast to the poet, who promises much and gives so little, the bourgeois promises little but accomplishes much.”²³

Scarron's reluctant admiration for the primitive manliness of Maske is, no doubt justifiably, interpreted by Sokel as an expression of Sternheim's own sentiments. Yet it appears that in the final assessment of the play Sokel, too, subscribes to the view that Sternheim's main aim is an attack on the figure of the middle-class citizen represented by Theobald Maske. “He secretly admires him while overtly attacking him.”²⁴

Apart from the fact that there is actually nothing secret about the admiration expressed for Maske in the play, the validity of this interpretation is further limited by the absence of any real criticism directed against him. Mandelstam and Scarron are not qualified to judge him, and their attacks against him end in their total defeat, while Gertrud Deuter, whose name is indicative of her function in this respect, radically changes her initially negative opinion of him after they have together examined the view from his bedroom window.

Sternheim's intentions with Die Hose have apparently always been subject to misunderstandings of this nature, for in the Foreword to the second edition he tried to correct them. According to Sternheim's own interpretation, borne out by the text, it is wrong to regard Die Hose as an ironical attack against the figure of Theobald Maske. The latter is not intended as a personification of the negative aspects of middle-class society. He is, on the contrary, an example with which the author intended to open the eyes of his bourgeois audience to their own fundamental virtues. Maske's basic qualities, such as the urges for self-preservation and for self-sufficiency which make him disregard literature and philosophy, are demonstrated to make him superior to the erudite Scarron and the latter's cheaper pendant Mandelstam.

These two are the main exponents of the bourgeois ideology in its various aspects; the barber, for instance, through his boundless admiration for the music of Wagner, who, at least in Sternheim's opinion, epitomized the worst aspects of the Zeitgeist.²⁵ As Mandelstam reveals himself through his enthusiasm for this composer, so does Scarron through the opinions he voices in the debate with Maske. The crassest example is his reaction when Theobald refers to the role of the heart. “Das Herz ist ein Muskel, Maske.” It is Scarron, not Maske, who adheres to the pedestrian materialism which pervaded the mental atmosphere of Wilhelmian Germany. In his other utterances Scarron indulges in empty phraseology which is intended to sound profound, but really only covers up his unwillingness to face the concrete facts of life, such facts as “dass Frauen ein Herz haben, Kinder zur Welt kommen.”

Another character who deliberately shuts out the world is the scholar Stengelhöh, who is usually disregarded in interpretations of Die Hose. He tries to arrange his life in such a way that he need not be reminded of the basic facts of sexuality, or of the existence of any living creatures such as small children, canaries, dogs, and cats. Maske, on the other hand, refuses to bother with the realms of science and the arts, and limits himself to the instinctual level of life. That level includes food and sex, but also an awareness of the nature of love and the ability to bring some happiness into the lives of his fellows.

The text of Die Hose thus justifies Sternheim's claims that he wanted to awaken the bourgeois' “Mut zu seiner menschlichen Ursprünglichkeit,” by demolishing the “Wall verabredeter Ideologien, Gaswolken von Apotheosen, Schützengräbern von Metaphern” behind which the middle class pursued its petty money-making.²⁶ The portrayal of Maske serves to show the vast resources of vitality which the bourgeois unleashes in himself if he refuses to pay homage to the artistic, philosophical, and scholarly sacred cows of his environment and time, and discards professional ambitions. But this lonely rebellion against the prevailing system is only possible under the cover of outward conformism—hence Maske's name and his concern about the central incident of the play, which might have resulted in the loss of his protective anonymity. He says, “Meine Unscheinbarkeit ist die Tarnkappe, unter der ich meinen Neigungen, meiner innersten Natur frönen darf.”

In the field of poetry the absolute belief in the essential goodness of human nature is represented, among others, by Iwan Goll. The first version of Goll's poem Der Panamakanal (1912) describes the emergence of a harmonious brotherhood of men out of the ruins of the old world. In the first section, subtitled DieArbeit, the towns with their palaces and hovels and all other man-made evidence of inequality and suppression are razed. But the tenacity of the old order is shown in the laborers' inability to overcome the barriers between them of nationality and religion. Only when the canal is finally completed, and the connection between the oceans made, does the new world rise out of the chaos. There will be no hostility, but only love.

Und wenn diese Tore sich öffnen werden,
Wenn zwei feindliche Ozeane mit Gejubel sich küssen—
Oh, dann müssen
Alle Völker weinen auf Erden.

In the second part of the work, Die Weihe, this universal fraternization is symbolized in a number of images and is shown in its effect on the life of the people. The barriers of language, color, and custom have disappeared, and in the atmosphere of freedom which has replaced the old restrictive order even differences in individual temperament are overcome by the feeling of love and brotherhood which now unites all mankind.

Sentiments such as these inevitably led to the poetic invocation of the God who is Love, and therewith to the ecstatic religious tone of many works by Werfel, Unruh, Heynicke, the post-Bettler Sorge, and others. In them the problems and sorrows of human existence are an incomprehensible part of a higher plan, and are left to Him to solve by His divine grace which He imparts to all mankind.

erwacht zu schöpferischen Glücksaufschwüngen,
schiesst Gottes Blut, das einmal schon vergeblich rann,
durch aller Menschen Herzen in Kometensprüngen. …(27)

The development of a religious attitude out of a simply human boundless love for all mankind and faith in its essential goodness, no matter how obscured and perverted through a hypocritical and evil social organization, can be demonstrated most clearly in the case of Franz Werfel. He was no less violently opposed to the existing order than poets like Sack and Heym, but his confidence in the basic qualities of his fellow men was so great that he yearned to be one with them, regardless of the unpleasant features which the established pattern of life may have given them. He did not concentrate on the evocation of destructive visions, as Heym did, but envisaged a universal brotherhood which would reduce the barriers of status, religious organization, race, and all others to utter insignificance.

His fundamental attitude is expressed in the opening line of the poem An den Leser. “Mein einziger Wunsch ist, dir, o Mensch verwandt zu sein!” It appears, however, that his own desire, his own will power are inadequate to the task of establishing the longed-for intimate relationship with all men against the resistance of the existing order. Thus the poem ends with an implied admission of defeat in the subjunctive mood of the verses: “O, könnte es einmal geschehen, / Dass wir uns, Bruder, in die Arme fallen!”

The realization that mere good intentions are impotent led Werfel to the invocation of a superior power, through whose intermediary he hoped to achieve his aim of identifying himself with the whole of humanity. This approach inevitably resulted in work of a predominantly religious nature. Werfel's writings include a number of poems which represent this turn to God as a way of overcoming his human isolation. A case in point is his poem entitled Ich bin ja noch ein Kind. In contrast to his statement in An den Leser “ich habe alle Schicksale durchgemacht,” the poet here disclaims all familiarity with the fate of those less naïve and fortunate than he.

Ich bin gesund,
Und weiss noch nicht, wie Greise rosten.
Ich hielt mich nie an groben Pfosten,
Wie Frauen in der schweren Stund'.

Subsequent stanzas serve to illustrate the writer's incapability of identifying himself with any human being in any walk of life. His unfulfilled desire for identification, however, extends much farther than the human realm to which An den Leser is limited. In Ich bin ja noch ein Kind the poet also laments the fact that he does not know and share the fate of animals and things, cats, horses, lamps, hats, and even the wind. Hereby he makes it clear that in his work he deals with the question of individuation in an absolute sense, far beyond the effect of a specific social organization on the existence of certain groups of people, although in details the poem has pronounced social-critical aspects. “Nie war ich ein Kind, zermalmt in den Fabriken / Dieser elenden Zeit, mit Ärmchen, ganz benarbt!”

God is regarded in this poem as being present in all suffering things—the omnipresence for which the poet himself yearns.

Du aber, Herr, stiegst nieder, auch zu mir.
Und hast die tausendfache Qual gefunden,
Du hast in jedem Weib entbunden,
Und starbst im Kot, in jedem Stück Papier,
In jedem Zirkusseehund wurdest Du geschunden,
Und Hure warst Du manchem Kavalier!

The poet beseeches this omnipresent God to grant him the same universality in the repeated exclamation “O Herr, zerreisse mich!” When he, too, dies in every “Lumpen,” “Katze,” “Gaul,” and “Soldat,” and is dispersed in the wind, existing in all things, even in smoke, then the words “Wir sind,” which so far he has used intuitively, will really become a concrete and meaningful expression of the unity of all Creation.

Ich bin ja noch ein Kind is but one of several poems in which Werfel manifests this attitude and calls upon God to end his painful isolation from the rest of the world. Very typical in this respect is his adaptation of the traditional Pentecostal motif Veni Creator Spiritus, the first stanza of which concisely summarizes the despair at the fact of his individuation and the object of his profoundest desire.

Komm, heiliger Geist, Du schöpferisch!
Den Marmor unsrer Form zerbrich!
Dass nicht mehr Mauer krank und hart
Den Brunnen dieser Welt umstarrt,
Dass wir gemeinsam und nach oben
Wie Flammen ineinander toben!

The yearning for cosmic unification in God reaches a climax with the lines:

Dass alle wir in Küssens Überflüssen
Nur Deine reine heilige Lippe küssen!

This poem thus marks the extreme in the development of that type of expressionistic writing which has an almost desperate recourse to religious postulates in an endeavor to substantiate its faith in the basic, potential qualities of mankind.

The foregoing interpretations have, with the aid of specific texts, shown that expressionist writings fall into three broad categories, depending on the emphasis that is placed on the destruction of the old order, and, where applicable, the nature of the evoked ideal. Even the few examples considered demonstrate the wide variety of methods, determined by talent and genre, with which each of the three basic patterns can be realized. This diversity may make it difficult to recognize at first glance the relationship between works belonging to one group, as, for instance, Sternheim's Die Hose and Goll's Der Panamakanal. The decisive point is, however, that beyond such questions of specific execution, the writings concerned manifest the same attitude as regards the postulated ideal and the rejection of the status quo. It may be said that to be regarded as part of the body of expressionist writing, a work should either contain a violent attack on the existing order, which is contrasted only by implication or in vague allusions with an unspecified ideal; or take the destruction of the status quo more or less for granted to dwell on visions of a socio-political, or, alternately, of a humanistic-anarchic nature.

In addition to displaying characteristics conforming to any of these three extreme types, or a possible intermediate position between them, an expressionist work, because of the writers' desire to gain concrete results with it, is rhetorical. In fact, most of the attempts to define a typical pattern of linguistic usage seem to be based mainly on the rhetorical elements in expressionism. There are, however, many often mutually contradictory ways in which a piece of writing can clamor for attention and attempt to influence the public, while, moreover, the rhetorical effect often depends at least as much on the actual vocabulary used as on the linguistic and syntactic devices employed.

A survey of the works, which in the foregoing have been interpreted from another viewpoint, shows the multitude of rhetorical devices employed even in such a limited number of examples. In Gustav Sack's poem the most obvious of these devices are the exclamatory tone and the repetition of the first line; the “rhetorical” questions introducing the third stanza; unlyrical and crude expressions designed to shock the sense of propriety of the bourgeois, such as “Dreck,” “verdreckt,” “Unzuchtpfuhl,” and a tendency towards colloquial, popular turns of phrase such as “Bude” and “'ne” instead of “eine.”

In Georg Heym's poem Der Krieg the will to reach and affect an audience is manifest mainly in the heavy monotony of the metre. Each line rolls on with the irresistible finality of fate itself; the verses mercilessly pound on the reader's or hearer's mind with terrifying force and regularity.

Both Die Hose by Carl Sternheim and Reinhard Sorge's Der Bettler, as plays written to be performed before an audience, show that they seek an effect and a resonance by the very fact that they are dramas. The rhetorical tendency inherent in the genre is further heightened, in the case of Sternheim, through the liberal use of irony and satire, and in Sorge's work through shockingly grotesque scenes such as that in which the father for lack of red ink pierces a bird with his compasses.

In Iwan Goll's Der Panamakanal the devices of enumeration and accumulation are in evidence, while the frequent repetition of such words as “alle,” “jeder,” “jenes” also plays a role in the present context. Typical for Werfel's poems An den Leser, Ich bin ja noch ein Kind, and Veni Creator Spiritus are the vocative and exclamatory tone of many verses, while in Ernst Wilhelm Lotz' Aufbruch der Jugend the rhetorical attitude is clear in the use of “wir,” the violent vocabulary and the vehement rhythm.

As these few instances indicate, the many ways in which a rhetorical effect can be achieved make it quite impracticable to formulate a rule defining this aspect of expressionism.²⁸ Moreover, the rhetorical appeal to the audience is by no means restricted to expressionism—in a sense it is even inherent in certain literary genres such as the drama. The rhetorical quality of a work can therefore not be used as a criterion to determine whether a given work should be considered part of the expressionist movement. On the other hand, the absence of a rhetorical attitude in writing which otherwise does fit into one of the three expressionist patterns would indicate the work concerned does not spring from the fundamental expressionist experience of reluctant outsidership and consequent ambivalence towards society. Such a work should therefore not be assigned to the movement.

In practice, the question whether a certain piece of writing does or does not belong to expressionism itself will only occur in the case of temporally closely related or contemporaneous work. Of greater significance than such problems of “labeling” specific works is the matter of determining the expressionist influence on later literature—not in an ideological, but in a formal sense. Practically every treatise on present-day authors finds occasion to claim such connections between them and the expressionists.²⁹

Notes

1. Was war Expressionismus? p. 23.

2. Dichtungen und Schriften, III, 135, 139.

3. Catalogue No. 7, Expressionismus. Literatur und Kunst 1910-1923, of the Schiller-Nationalmuseum, Marbach a.N., published by Bernhard Zeller for the Deutsche Schillergesellschaft on the occasion of the “Sonderausstellung” from May 8 till October 31, 1960, p. 314.

4. Quoted in Soergel and Hohoff, p. 127.

5. In June, 1910, the Neopathetische Cabaret presented the first of its programs, which consisted of recitations, lectures on philosophical, political, and other themes, and performances of contemporary music. Unfortunately, less than one year after its inception, the development of this most significant venture was halted prematurely when a schism occurred in the Neue Club, and left it bereft of its organizer and key figure Kurt Hiller. The death of Georg Heym in January, 1912, dealt a fatal blow to both organizations, which dissolved soon afterwards. For a detailed account of the rise and fall of the Neue Club and the Neopathetische Cabaret, see my article, “Georg Heym und der Neue Club,” Revista de Letras (Assis), IV (1963), 262-71.

6. Unless otherwise specified, all quotations of expressionist poetry are from Menschheitsdämmerung, with the exception of Georg Heym's poems, which are quoted after Gesammelte Gedichte, ed. Carl Seelig (Zürich, 1947).

7. Hiller, Die Weisheit der Langenweile, eine Zeit- und Streitschrift (Leipzig, 1913), I, 239-40.

8. Friedmann and Mann, p. 23.

9. Gedichte. Die drei Reiter (Hamburg, München, 1958), p. 39.

10. See my article, “Georg Heyms Der Dieb—ein Novellenbuch?” in Levende Talen, No. 215 (June, 1962), pp. 352 ff; also my forthcoming book on Heym.

11. Berlin, 1928.

12. Friedmann and Mann, p. 221.

13. Friedmann and Mann, p. 220.

14. The Writer in Extremis, p. 37.

15. Act V, “Offene Gegend.”

16. Act V, “Palast.”

17. Act V, “Grosser Vorhof des Palasts.”

18. The Writer in Extremis, p. 63.

19. Text in Karl Otten, Schrei und Bekenntnis, pp. 126 ff.

20. Die Hose. Ein bürgerliches Lustspiel, 3rd ed. (München, 1920).

21. “Carl Sternheim,” in Friedmann and Mann, pp. 282-83.

22. Cf. Sokel, Writer in Extremis, Chapter 5: “The Impotence of the Heart,” pp. 119 ff.

23. Ibid., p. 123.

24. Ibid.

25. In Berlin oder Juste Milieu (München, 1920), pp. 36-37, he wrote: “Der Sachse Richard Wagner, von höheren Fügungen in seiner Weltanschauung überhaupt absehend, brachte anstatt des christlichen Himmels das alte Walhall mit seinen Bewohnern dem Publikum wieder nah, nach ihrer Kleidung und sonstigen Ansprüchen ungezwungene Wesen, in deren Götterhall es aber derart skandalös und spiessbürgerlich herging, dass der gewöhnliche Sterbliche sich vollends überzeugte, wo Leben der Himmlischen so erbärmlich beschränkt und abhängig sei, könne er wirklich mit seiner Preussisch-Berliner Freiheit zufrieden sein, und mit vollem Recht von einem Fortschritt durch Jahrhunderte trotzalledem sprechen.”

26. Juste Milieu, pp. 50-51.

27. Paul Zech, Die neue Bergpredigt.

28. See Introduction.

29. See, for instance, Duwe; Soergel and Hohoff; Fritz Martini, Deutsche Literaturgeschichte von den Anfängen bis zur Gegenwart (Stuttgart, 1948 and later).