Central to the interpretation of Thomas Mann's Tonio Kröger is the concept of the "lost bourgeois", or, as Tonio describes himself: "ein Burger, der sich in die Kunst verirrte, ein Bohemien mit Heimweh nach der guten Kinderstube, ein Kiinstler mit schlechtem Gewissen." Critics have taken Tonio's words at face value, disregarding to a great extent that he is primarily a character in a story rather than a spokesman of the author. Although Thomas Mann has called this story "mein Eigentliches", it is first and foremost a work of literature in which the hero speaks for himself. Tonio comes forth as a fallible human being, who, like all of us, utters words which do not always correspond with his innermost feelings. His ambiguous pronouncements and the extent to which he fails to back them up by deeds reveal a breach in his nature which demands careful investigation. Tonio uses words concerning his bourgeois origin obviously to protect himself against certain demands of life and to rationalize away his conflict with his art.

Tonio Krbger is little different from many of Thomas Mann's heroes who are burdened by a sense of guilt which inhibits them from total involvement in an active life. His sense of sin and doubt reach such proportions that he feels like a criminal indelibly branded by the mark on his brow. (A number of critics have equated this sign to that of a murderer: the mark of Cain.) As a result of his pitiless conscience he is preoccupied by death as the promising end to his guilty existence. Tonio thus turns to art, a refuge which enables him to escape the claims of life. In it he finds a substitute for emotions involving people. But because he is a genuine artist whose deepest feelings are linked to his art, he needs to take further precautions. He is acutely aware of the dangers of unrestricted feeling, and, consequently, he conceives of his art as essentially opposed to life, as a sphere from which his emotions must be banned before he can achieve aesthetic excellence. The cold breath of death should still every human sensation, for "das Gefuhl, das warme herzliche Gefuhl ist immer banal und unbrauchbar, und kiinstlerisch sind bloss die Gereiztheiten und kalten Ekstasen unseres verdorbenen, unseres artistischen Nervensystems … Es ist aus mit dem Kiinstler, sobald er Mensch wird und zu empfinden beginnt."

Therefore, the artist's work really exists outside of life. Tonio continues: "Was aber das 'Wort' betrifft, so handelt es sich da vielleicht weniger um eine Erlösung als um ein Kaltstellen und Aufs-Eis-Legen der Empfindung." Tonio leaves no doubt that art should be devoid of the human and the personal. Yet, the credo of "frigid art", of being emotionally dead for the sake of art is a contradiction in that it coincides in time with the hero's statement that he loves life. Tonio's claim of loving life lacks conviction, for one does not try to escape what one loves. He finds in the cold, controlled creativity of art a substitute for the threats and exigencies of life, for in choosing to place his energies in art rather than in life, he avoids the perils of human involvement. In longing for "die Blonden und die Blauaugigen", Tonio rationalizes a desire for active involvement in life while, at the same time, he compulsively maintains the repressive prohibition against the release of these very emotions. As a consequence he must dissemble whenever he claims he loves life. In reality it is a dubious love-affair, for his real inclinations are diametrically opposed to his avowal of passion. The element of doubt which accompanies his affirmation of this point is so strong that Tonio seems hard put to convince himself, much less his companion Lisaweta Iwanowna: "Ich bin am Ziel, Lisaweta. Horen Sie mich an. Ich liebe das Leben,—dies ist ein Gestandnis. Nehmen Sie es und bewahren Sie es,—ich habe es noch keinem gemacht. Man hat gesagt, man hat es sogar geschrieben und drucken lassen, dass ich das Leben hasse oder flirchte oder verachte oder verabscheue. Ich habe dies gem gehort, es hat mir geschmeichelt; aber darum ist es nicht weniger falsch. Ich liebe das Leben… Sie lacheln, Lisaweta.…"

Lisaweta's smile does not seem very reassuring. And at the very end Tonio writes to Lisaweta: "Schelten Sie diese Liebe nicht, Lisaweta; sie ist gut und fruchtbar. Sehnsucht ist darin und schwermiutiger Neid und ein klein wenig Verachtung und eine ganze keusche Seligkeit." He anticipates by "Schelten Sie" the disbelief his words will evoke in Lisaweta. "Neid" and "Verachtung", despite the manner in which they are modified, still contain overtones of resentment and aversion and are not calculated to convince Lisaweta or strengthen his case for an affirmation of life. The very fact that Tonio feels the need to endorse life categorically is perhaps the best proof that he seriously doubts its value. And since he cannot declare his love with unconditional enthusiasm or without qualification, we are forced to conclude that he is another one of Thomas Mann's ambivalent heroes who possesses more hostility against life than love for it, the consequence of which is a latent longing for death. This antipathy towards life, so typical of many of Mann's heroes, is only superficially canceled by Tonio's simple confession. In actuality the deathwish is too deeply ingrained in the artist crippled by guilt and unable to share in the spontaneous enjoyment of living, the artist whose inability to love breeds feelings of hatred. Also implied in Tonio's words is the underlying reason for his ambivalent attitude. In "keusche Seligkeit" we have a hint of the sexual, the primary source of Tonio's guilt. His ideal of chastity is inimical to a genuine love relationship, which demands physical contact and the investment of one's deepest feelings.

Tonio Kröger compares the artist to the papal castrato: "Ist der Kiinstler uberhaupt ein Mann? Man frage 'das Weib' danach! Mir scheint, wir Kunstler teilen alle ein wenig das Schicksal jener praparierten papstlichen Sanger … Wir singen ganz riuhrend schon. Jedoch—." The artist finds it difficult to create in the spring of the year, when, Tonio is told by his artist friend, "es kribbelt Ihnen auf eine unanstandige Weise im Blute und eine Menge von unzugehorigen Sensationen beunruhigt Sie.…" Spring is the time when life stirs; it represents the quickening of those urges which spell uneasiness and which threaten the necessary restrictions Tonio Kröger places on his instincts. He decries pathos and feelings, and with justice, for his are repressed so thoroughly as to become unmanageable if released.

The dire nature of these repressed impulses, criminal in a literal sense, is surmised by Tonio in his opinion of his poet-banker friend, who incidentally achieved his best creations while undergoing the penance of incarceration in a penal institution. Tonio cannot escape the suspicion that the source and essence of his friend's art has less to do with his life in prison than with the reason that brought him there.

Tonio knows that he cannot afford to give way even on a small scale to his dark desires, for it might easily lead to sexual debauchery and self-destruction as in the case of Gustav von Aschenbach in Der Tod in Venedig. He aids the repression by his impeccable dress, highly reminiscent of Thomas Buddenbrook, and by his gentlemanly bearing. That he is quite capable of yielding to his urges comes out in the description of his stay in Italy: "Aber da sein Herz tot und ohne Liebe war, so geriet er in Abenteuer des Fleisches, stieg tief hinab in Wollust und heisse Schuld und litt unsaglich dabei." Indeed, his attitude toward the sexual is of a frantic and obsessive nature. The very intensity of his repressions calls forth all the more readily that which he fears. He is flung to and fro forever between two crass extremes: between icy intellect and scorching passion, and leads an exhausting life under the pressure of his conscience. Having thus compounded his guilt he once more embarks on as ascetic course, abhorring with a vengeance the Bohemian, despite his knowledge that he is to himself a Bohemian. In false protestation he states: "Ich bin doch kein Zigeuner im grunen Wagen." The emphatic tone is indispensable because basically Tonio is a gypsy and feels the need to deny it, out of fear of life as "verfuihrerisch": desire and danger in one. To ward off this threat he finds it necessary to wear proper clothes and behave outwardly like a respectable person. Another target of his repressive outlook is the demonic sensuality of the Italian Renaissance as typified by Caesar Borgia: "Italian ist mir bis zur Verachtung gleichgiltig! Das ist lange her, dass ich mir einbildete, dorthin zu gehoren. Kunst, nicht wahr? Sammetblauer Himmel, heisser Wein und suisse Sinnlichkeit … Kurzum, ich mag das nicht. Ich verzichte. Die ganze bellezza macht mich nervos. Ich mag auch alle diese furchterlich lebhaften Menschen dort unten mit dem schwarzen Tierblick nicht leiden. Diese Romanen haben kein Gewissen in den Augen."

Like Hanno Buddenbrook he too yearns for death: "Es gibt etwas, was ich Erkenntnisekel nenne, Lisaweta: der Zustand, in dem es dem Menschen genuigt, eine Sache zu durchschauen, um sich bereits zum Sterben, angewidert (und durchaus nicht versohnlich gestimmt) zu flihlen.…

By using the lofty word Erkenntnis Tonio Kröger lends an air of respectability to all his groping, searching and resultant disillusionment. But in spite of this subterfuge he is numbed by the awareness of his guilty existence. He knows that behind his dignity and propriety is his own miserable state—"Komik und Elend." He realizes the painful truth, that he is unable to love, that he cannot compete without incurring remorse or increasing his inner travail: "Hellsehen noch durch den Tranenschleier des Gefuhls hindurch, erkennen, merken, beobachten und das Beobachtete lachelnd beiseite legen mussen noch in Augenblicken, wo Hande sich umschlingen, Lippen sich finden, wo des Menschen Blick, erblindet von Empfindung, sich bricht.…" His paralyzing insight is brought home to him at that specific moment when two people commit themselves to passion.

Tonio's own words show that it is necessity which inspires his dictum of "frigid art." A contrived concept of deadness is employed by Tonio to shield himself from the horror of exposure. In this way he suffers chronically from a prevailing feeling of loneliness and of being cut off; but his suffering is not violent, as it might be if he confronted directly uncertainties of life. His gaze is consequently focused on the past, trying nostalgically to recover that period in which his heart once lived. The doctrine of "frigid art" takes on, therefore, a mantle of protection by becoming a rationalization that frees him from the lurking excesses of his inner drives, but it also becomes, paradoxically, the motivation to pursue his artistic calling.

In keeping with his artistic theory is his relation to Lisaweta Iwanowna. He is above reproach in his dealings with her, so much so that she chides him for his excessive propriety as well as for his faultless patrician dehors. She is a woman who is safe for him, one who will not cause him to become emotionally involved. In some respects she is a female counterpart to Tonio Kröger: artistic, reserved, proper, and completely intellectual. Her function in the story is not to live as a character but to perform dialectics, that is, to be an intellectual foil to Tonio's pedagogical opinions on art. As a spokesman Lisaweta helps tone down the stark realization that Tonio Kröger's beliefs rest on a shaky inner foundation. When she tells him that he is a burgher on the wrong path, she helps to dull his awareness about his inner conflict, for he has not strayed off the bourgeois path in becoming an artist. Actually, as an extremely successful author he gains the respect and envy of the bourgeois world. Tonio toils, indeed suffers, to produce masterpieces which give pleasure to his fellow citizens. But by defining his occupation as a guilty offense against middle-class society, he tries to shield himself from the sting of his conscience. His condition therefore goes deeper than the abstract concepts of "Biirgertum" and "frigid art" which are only a screen for an entirely inner personal conflict.

Tonio Kröger feels his art to be a consolation but at the same time a curse. In effect he is a man condemned by an inner voice to suffer in servitude: "Die Literatur ist uberhaupt kein Beruf, sondern ein Fluch,—amit Sie's wissen. Wann beginnt er fiulhlbar zu werden, dieser Fluch? Friih, schrecklich friuh. Zu einer Zeit, da man billig noch in Frieden und Eintracht mit Gott und der Welt leben sollte." And no matter how perfect the artist's clothing or dignity may be, he believes himself perpetually on exhibition. Tonio feels that he would hardly need to give a glance or speak a word before everyone knew that he was not a human being but something else: something queer, different, inimical. An episode on his trip north, when he is nearly arrested by a policeman in his home town, seems to prove Tonio's overwhelming complex of guilt. Interestingly, Tonio is, as Erich Heller points out, strangely reluctant to clear up the misunderstanding with the police. It is as if he wished to bargain for punishment in order to placate his conscience, that is, as if he derived masochistic pleasure from the incident.

Why does Tonio Krbger go north? Is it to rediscover the springs of his existence, as Frank Donald Hirschbach says? Perhaps Tonio travels north for this reason, but in another sense his trip can be attributed to an urge to revisit the scene of his original guilty experiences. Tonio is embarrassed by Lisaweta's shrewd guess that his real reason for the trip is to visit his home and not merely to spend his holidays in Denmark:

"Wie fahren Sie, Tonio, wenn ich fragen darf?
Welche Route nehmen Sie?"

"Die u̧bliche", sagte er achselzuckend und erro̧tete deutlich.
"Ja, ich beru̧hre meine—meinen Ausgangspunkt, Lisaweta…"

The use of inflectional endings is revealing. Tonio substitutes "meinen" for "meine", and in doing so catches himself just in time to avoid saying "meine Heimat."

A moment later Lisaweta knowingly says: "Ich verspreche mir einen erlebnisvollen Brief von Ihrer Reise—nach Danemark.…" In her hesitation there is a hint that Tonio's trip north is incidental to an inner aim which takes precedence over his conspicuously conflicting feelings. He does not seek out people or demonstrate affections. He acts as if he has completely forgotten his confession of love for life. Paradoxically, by his aloofness and even contempt for his fellow men, he takes no steps to lessen his "middle-class guilt." There is actually an element of displeasure in his stay in the North, as if to clinch the argument of "frigid art" that his heart must be dead. Indeed, it is surprising how little Tonio enjoys himself except for his isolated vigil at the sea: his yearning for the final absolution of death. The Danish coast fits his needs in the same way as the Travemiinde beach episode did for Hanno Buddenbrook. Among his experiences in the North it is the mighty power of the sea which has the greatest effect on him and is aesthetically most impressive for him: "In ihm schwang sich ein Jauchzen auf, und ihm war, als sei es machtig genug, um Sturm und Flut zu iibertonen. Ein Sang an das Meer, begeistert von Liebe, tonte in ihm. Du meiner Jugend wilder Freund, so sind wir einmal noch vereint.…" Contrary to what he told Lisaweta, he does not concern himself with ordinary people, the representatives of life, but rather with the natural landscape, the magnificent sunrise, and the immensity of the expanse of the water. Only the powers of an impersonal nature succeed in stirring the deepest sources of his creative energies, despair, and passion.

Tonio Kröger is always the outsider on his journey into the world of the bourgeois; he continually observes and never takes part, unless people intrude on his self-imposed isolation. The verbs "lauschen" and "horchen", as in the early short story "Der kleine Herr Friedemann," keynote his passivity. In fact, his inert behavior makes us wish to question his own severity in regard to his art. Tonio does not consciously distill his exuberant feelings for his art; he coldly subdues his emotions from painful necessity rather than from conscious intention.

Within the story itself Thomas Mann curiously invalidates his own thesis that feelings have no place in art. For no one who has read Tonio Kröger can fail to be moved by the emotional quality of this work. Thomas Mann has drawn a complete portrait of the intellectual artist who, lacking a capacity for direct feeling, can not even endure the sensual in art but rather finds in his calling a cleansing effect and the destruction of passions. Thus, although the intellectual Lisaweta episode with its didactic tendencies is the heart of the story, its appeal to us is meager by comparison to the actual expression of felt sorrow and the veritably passionate nostalgia in the scene of Tonio's childhood. "Damals lebte sein Herz." The warm emotional tones which characterize Tonio Kröger as a young boy and also his dream-like recollection later on of the same situations live in a real, aesthetic sense and are by no means banal and futile for artistic evaluation. In fact, it is the anguished undertone of self-pity and the sentimental yearning of the hero as well as the blurred and mysterious quality of the dream which give this novella its impact. It appeals poignantly to our own nostalgic attempts to escape into the past and to recapture the dream of youth. Tonio's ambivalence, plaintive and lyrical, touches a chord in all of us that echoes our own loneliness.