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Published online by Cambridge University Press: 02 December 2020
Annette von Droste-Hülshoff was born in 1797, when German Classicism was at its height and Romanticism just launched. She died in 1848, in the revolutionary year that marked the end of an era. Her principal literary production falls into the 1830's and 1840's, decades in which traditional values were challenged and often discarded, years of upheaval and reorientation in German politics and religion and philosophy as well as in poetry. She was not connected with any of these innovative movements; in fact, she was shielded from them by bulwarks of “Stand” and religion, by the ingrained conservatism of her race and family, by her sex, and by her lonely and visionary nature. One cannot suppose that she ever read such books as Gutzkow's Watty, die Zweiflerin, or David Friedrich Strauss's Das Leben Jesu, or Schopenhauer's Die Welt als Wille und Vorslellung, or the treatises of the new materialistic science that was threatening to reduce the divine soul of an earlier faith and poetry to a system of physiological reactions. Yet these things were in the air, and she could not wholly escape them, in the sense that no life, however solitary, can remain unaffected by the intellectual climate of its time. Annette von Droste-Hülshoff was, without intent or plan on her part, a link in the transition from Romanticism to Realism. The problems of “Weltanschauung” she wrestled with, to victory or defeat, are to a large extent the problems her contemporaries confronted, though her formulations of them were conditioned by the circumstances of her own peculiar, not to say eccentric, existence.
1 In the poem “Nach dem Angelus Silesius”, Sämtliche Werke, in Verbindung mit Bertha Badt und Kurt Pinthus herausgegeben von Karl Schulte Kemminghausen (München: Müller, 1925, 1930), i1, 93. When not otherwise noted, references are to volume and page of this edition, “t.”, “m.”, and “b.”, where used, indicating top, middle, or bottom of a page.
2 Herein the Westphalian lady was blood-sister to the Frisian Storm, at the opposite end of the great “Heide.” See my article, “Theodor Storm's ‘Schimmelreiter,‘” PMLA, LXI (1946), 771 f.
3 Cf. her letter of Oct. 22, 1835, to Schlüter: Die Briefe der Dichterin Annette von Drosle-Bülshqff, ed. Cardauns (Munster: Aschendorff, 1909), p. 86, t. The most recent collection of Annette's Briefe, ed. Kemminghausen (Jena: Diederichs, 1944), 2 v., has not been available to me.
4 One is reminded of the garden-valley of innocence and the mountains of temptation in Tieck's Runenberg.
5 There is perhaps a hint that this “taint” is inheritable: at the end we see the doctor's son, after he has read his father's account, disappear, brooding, into the woods, “an seine Stirn die Hand gelegt” (11. 829 ff.), as though he in his turn felt the hot touch of the Dark One. The father, indeed, believes his son once saw the nightly visitant and was touched by him (11.436 ff.).
6 The verb in “Des Dunklen, der allnächtlich mich umkreist” (1. 432) picks up again the figure of the circling eagles of the beginning and perhaps also anticipates the orbital movement of the “Sternbild” of line 442.
7 The earlier wording: “Traum, bist du Leben? Leben, bist du Traum?” (ii1, 259) is closer to Grillparzer's exactly contemporary formulation. The idea, of course, is a “Ro” mantic“ continuum of the Goethe-Zeit from the days of Werther on.
8 Such misgiving is not limited to the simple. E. T. A. Hoffmann had, like Jean Paul, a horror of seeing himself in a mirror. It is interesting to remember that these two introduced the “Doppelgänger” into literature. The “Spiegelmotiv” occurs in several of Hoffmann's works. He, like Annette, lived on two “levels”; he also was haunted by a fear of insanity, and his frequent mention of it, as his diary shows, was a kind of prophylactic “Anderlafi”—Hoffmanns Werke, ed. Schweizer and Zaunert (Leipzig: Eibliogr. Inst., n.d.), iii, 13. The mirror as a symbol for the baffling relation of “Sein” and “Schein” may be found in other poets, e.g., C. F. Meyer's Möwenflug.
9 Die Schlacht im Loener Bruch, 1. Gesang, lines 197 ff. (ii1,123, b.).
10 Der Spirilusfamiliaris des Roßtäuschers, last canto, stanza 4 (ii1,216).
11 Cf. her poem Doppeltgänger: i2, 293 f.
12 Cf. the poem A m 5. Sonntage nach Pfingsten: ii2, 410.
13 See the closing lines of the poem Das Blockhaus (Lenau's Sämtliche Wcrke und Briefe, ed. Castle, i, 275).
14 Letter to Schlüter, Nov. 9,1836 (Briefe, ed. Cardauns, p. 89 f.).
18 Sometimes it seems as if Annette considered the great things, including man, to be doomed to dissolution, while the little things retain their value and are, because of their very humbleness, not endangered—an idea that has obvious affinities with some of Grillparzer's and Hebbel's. She was herself devoted to the little things of Nature, and seemed to find in them an escape from the insoluble problems of human life. In Die Judenbuche, the subordinate, simple-minded Johannes keeps his innocence, while the ambitious, clever Friedrich turns criminal. In the Spititus familiaris, the “geringen Leutchen” rest peacefully in death under an angel's care, while a dragon writhes about the marble monument of the wealthy usurer (ii1, 202 f.).
15 Cf. Meine Toten: i1, 90; Im Grose: i2, 295; Die Golems: i2, 296 f.
17 Cf. the beginning of Abschied von der Jugend: i1, 154 f.; and the ending of Grüsse: i2, 293.
18 Der Todesengel: i1,154, t.; cf. also Siheslerabend, with its Heinean touches of sarcasm: i2,318.
19 Die Krdhen: l1; 52 m.; this is the same hero as in Die Schlacht im Loener Bruch, which also contains a picture of the feasting of crows after a battle. Annette's pessimistic imagery is like that of Heine (Schlachtfeld bei Hastings), Lenau (Die Drei), and Raabe (Der Schüdderump).
20 Cf. my article on Storm s Schimmelreiter, PMLA, lxi (1946), 769 f.
21 The conception of “groaning creation, which is of Biblical origin (cf. Romans, viii, 22–23) and occurs elsewhere, e.g., Bürger s Der wilde Jáger, line 135 f., is by no means restricted to the poem just discussed. Annette was impressed with the suffering of things animate and inanimate, as many passages prove:
Much of this, including the morbid touch of the last line, may be “displacement” of her own state of body and mind. One may sense the same subjective sympathy in the picture of a beech-tree, felled ruthlessly in full leaf (iii, 16, m.; cf. Vermächtnis, 1. 220).
22 Thus, Margret's puzzling words, “Ein falscher Eid, ein falscher Eid!” (iii, 19, b.), are explained by a passage, later excised, in which a gossipy neighbor tells Margret that Simon had sworn a solemn oath in court denying the paternity of his illegitimate child (see Die Judenbuche. Mit sämtlichenjilngst wiederaufgefundenen Vorarbeiten, etc., ed. Kemminghausen [Dortmund: Ruhfus, 1925], 154 f.). Friedrich's words to Brandes, “Ihr habt gesagt, was Ihr nicht verantworten könnt, und ich vidleichi atich” (iii, 25, t.; italics mine), make complete sense only in the earliest version, where Friedrich has cast aspersions on Brandes' mother (ibid., 182). On the other hand, the scar that makes possible the positive identification of Friedrich's body (iii, 53) is not prepared for, oddly enough, in any of the versions.
23 In the final version, only the peasant-wedding scene and some of the doings in the “Schlofi”—which Annette records with filial fondness—are strictly dispensable.
24 Here Annette anticipates a later conception of tragic guilt which we connect with Hebbel and Ibsen, but which is also approached by Theodor Storm. Speaking to Alfred Biese, Storm rejected the older view, based on the determination of a “speziell eigene Schuld des Helden”, as too narrow and juristic; “wir büßen im Leben viel öfter für die Schuld des Allgemeinen, wovon wir ein Teil sind, für die Menschheit des Zeitalters, worin wir leben”, etc. See Briefwechsel zwischen Th. Storm u. G. Keller, ed. Köster, 3. Aufl. (Berlin: Paetel, 1909), 10 f.
26 Cf. a precedent: m, 11, m.; and the attitude of the crowd: “Packt den Juden!” etc., iii, 37, t.
26 Keller's Sämtliche Werke, ed. Fränkel, vu, 97. As a study in social deterioration, including a complete picture of specific locale in terms of “Heimatkunst”, the Judenhtche is a forerunner of Keller's story. It is interesting to observe, furthermore, that the Judenbuche is exactly contemporaneous with Immermann's Oberhof, and with it launches the modern “Dorfgeschichte”—another respect in which the “isolated” career of Annette parallels that of her age.
27 The title was given by Hermann Hauff, editor of Cotta's Morgenblatt, in which the story first appeared (1842). Whether Annette herself gave it its sub-title is not established.
28 In the account of folk-customs and -vices, e.g. iii, 104, 106–107, 121–122.
29 He doubtless intended simply to beat up Aaron and take money from him, in conformity with a “pattern” that had been implanted in his childhood mind (iii, 11, m.)—when stronger powers took matters out of his hands.
30 In the following references, those through p. 386 are to the earlier part of 25 poems, written 1818–20; those beginning with p. 387 are to the second part, comprising 47 poems, written in 1839.
31 Storm's poem Ein Sterbender. There was, of course, a much stronger church tie in Annette's case; but a kindred racial paganism stirred in both these poets.
32 Letter of Nov. 13, 1805. Heinrich von Kleists Werke, 2. Aufl., ed. Minde-Pouet (Leipzig: Bibl. Inst., n.d.), ii, 139.
33 Letter of May 21, 1801; ibid., ii, 8.
34 Letter of Aug. 31, 1806; ibid., ii, 153.
35 Am dritlen Sonniage nach Ostern: ii2, 390 ff. Klemens Möllenbrock, Die religiose Lyrik der Droste uni die Theologie ihrer Zeit (Berlin: Junker und Dunnhaupt, 1935), shows that Annette's religious struggles were by no means unique, but germane to the religious developments of her times.
36 The thought that the wood to make her coffin is already growing, and the rain already falling on the ground that will cover it (11. 58 f.) is like that in the poem that concludes Mörike's Mozart—another slight symptom of the unity of “Lebensgefuhl” in this period. In his religious struggles, too, Mörike was a time-brother of Annette's.
37 Cf. ii2, 328, b. This is echoed in a much later poem, Am ersten Sotmlage nach Ostern: “starrer Aufblick zu des Himmels Blau” (ii2, 387, m.).
38 Cf. Nachlese. Ungedruckte Verse und Briefe der Droste, etc., ed. Kemminghausen (Bochum: Kamp, 1934), p. 41 f.
39 See for this and the following: Philipp Witkop, Die deutschen Lyriker von Luther bis Nietzsche, 2nd ed. (Leipzig: Teubner, 1921), ii, 223.
40 ii1, 189 ff. Completed in December, 1842; first published in Gedichle, 1844.
41 Letter of Aug. 15,1801; H. v. Kleisls Werke, 2. Aufl., ed. Minde-Pouet, ii, 48.
42 The note of compassion is strong in Annette's works. She sympathizes with all Earth's children who bear Earth's curse (ii2,463, t.), as with the various types of humanity taking their troubles and hopes to church (Neujakrsnacht: i1, 150 ff.). She is remarkably tolerant of both sides in the Thirty Years' War (ii1, 120), chooses a Protestant for her hero, and enlists our sympathy for him and his development (ii1, 124 f.; 169). The prefatory poem to the Judenbuche bespeaks our pity for an “arm verkümmert Sein.” The final picture of the culprit's broken body and forlorn wife in Der Tod des Erzbischofs (i1, 214) shows the author's compassion even with an assassin, and the ending of Spiegelbild, even with her fearsome “other” self (i1, 150). In the Spiritus familiaris, the first sign that the horse-trader is ripe for the Devil's work is his stifling of compassion in his hardening heart.—The motif of “ächzende Kreatur” (see above, footnote 21) shows Annette's compassion extended to all things in Nature.
43 In the “source”, the horse-trader has a wife who plays an essential part in the action. It is interesting to note how often Annette identifies herself with male characters in her poems, e.g., Der Eunenslein (i1,42 ff.), Die Mergelgrube (45 ff.), Der zufrüh geborene Dichler (111 ff.), Das Liebhaberthealer (140 ff.). She speaks through a visiting nobleman in Bei Uns zu Lande auf dem Lande (iii, 55 ff.) and the Rentier Bernjen in Joseph (iii, 189 ff.); and of course the doctor in Das Vermachtnis and other male heroes.
44 Her next-to-last poem, Letzte Worte (i2, 363), shows complete consonance with the orthodox view of a better world hereafter.
45 The motif of the “Heimatlampe” runs all through Annette's poetry, e.g., Der Knabe im Moor (i1, 62), Im Moose (74, 75), AmBodensee (76), Griüße (i2, 293). The loss of home and its light forms the climax cf the Dark One's curse in Das Vermächtnis:
The Rofitauscher's decline begins with his selling of the old homestead, and his final salvation is accomplished when, outwardly broken but spiritually retrieved, he has found his way back to the home of his boyhood. “Heimat” and “Kirche” (cf. e.g., Der Eunenstein: i1,44) were ever Annette's two strongest bulwarks against the menacing Beyond.