His versatility is
indeed astonishing considering his foray into philosophy
as master essayist influenced by Kant, and into history,
with a brief tenure as a professor of history at the
University of Jena. As a historiographer he covered two
major events, the Revolt of the Netherlands, and the
History of the Thirty-Years’ War. The plots of a number
of operas are based on historical dramas by Schiller,
e.g., Don Carlos; Luisa Miller; Maria Stuart;
Turandot; Wilhelm Tell. His Ode to Joy has become
the choral portion of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and,
more recently, the unofficial anthem of Europe. His
dramas and some of his fascinating short stories reflect
his extraordinary skill in creating three-dimensional
characters, and his interest in the criminal element.
He was labeled alternately a “philosophizing
poet,” or a “politicizing philosopher,” the “poet of
freedom” with an impassioned mission and an indomitable
creative drive, a sound political instinct, and an
unparalleled sense for dramatic representation. Later he
referred to theater as a moralistic institution.
Whenever contemplating
the past, even of historically significant persons or
events, the issue of relevance to our time arises: what
is the salience and meaningfulness of Schiller for our
contemporary culture and society, and why should we read
Schiller today? Even in a good translation, some
readers might shy away from language which seems
antiquated and difficult to understand. Some are
repelled by the vocabulary of Kantian criticism.[i]
If, however, one realizes that Schiller himself has
profitably drawn on the past (to include antiquity, in
his case), and come to terms with the present, the
modern reader will acknowledge him as a man for all
seasons and all times.
It must be remembered
that in Schiller’s time, Germany was not a unified
country, but consisted of a myriad of small, more or
less independent states, mostly monarchies, with little
or no reciprocity among them; consequently there were no
uniform national standards in laws, medicine, education,
or many other aspects of public life. It should also be
noted that in the atmosphere leading to the French
Revolution, the European struggle against political
injustice and tyranny, social inequality, and moral
corruption, rebellion against moral restrictions,
conflict between generations, and related
socio-political phenomena coincided with the brief, but
powerful German literary movement of the Storm and
Stress (Sturm und Drang). Both the young Goethe and
Schiller were leading representatives of this
naturalistic school until they outgrew it.
Understanding Schiller’s youthful, rebellious penchant
should help to illuminate his artistic development.
Schiller came to his
reputation by a circuitous route. His early ambition to
take a degree in theology at the University of Tübingen
and to settle down as a Protestant pastor met with
intervention: he had come to the attention of his
sovereign, Karl Eugen, Duke of Württemberg (Schiller’s
home state), and founder of a military academy near the
regional capital. Schiller’s father, himself a
deserving military officer, greatly honored and
delighted as this son’s special recognition, tuition
free, prestigious education, and promising career,
readily accepted the scholarship. Less so his son, who
immediately perceived in this offer a guided, guarded,
uniformed effort with limited choices, theology not
being an option. Indeed, the cadets were assigned
academic disciplines according to the discretion of the
academy. After an unsuccessful run in jurisprudence
Schiller was transferred to the discipline of medicine
in 1776, which was apparently more compatible with his
ideological and temperamental leaning, especially since
it allowed him closer acquaintance with concomitant
subjects and promised a wider radius of intellectual
satisfaction. During his student years he found solace
in younger mentors who were able to communicate to him
the study of philosophy as a discipline most likely to
advance abstract reasoning applicable to all academic
pursuits—considering that eighteenth-century state of
the art medicine still placed the emphasis on
generalized speculation and experimentation rather than
scientific investigation. The convergence of physiology
and psychology was being practiced in Schiller’s medical
training, as was “humoral pathology,” based on a
Greco-Roman foundation. He was, however, particularly
interested in mind-body relationships, which by modern
standards would fall into the categories of
psychological medicine, abnormal psychology, or
neuropsychiatry.[ii]
This predilection
points to Schiller’s extraordinary proclivity in his
later career of creating three-dimensional characters.
He devoted all his spare time indulging his interests in
the study of literature—poetry and drama--, along with
some studies in physiognomy,[iii]
as well as writing himself. Frequently volunteering for
night duty at the Academy’s sickbay, the only locale
where light was permitted to burn, gave him the
opportunity to progress in his first drama, Die
Räuber (The Robbers). Such activity, however, was
not in keeping with the institution’s regulations and
Schiller was strictly ordered to cease and desist, but
managed to complete the play, without being able to find
a publisher, and seeing himself obliged to pay for the
printing of the work (1781) at his own expense while
preparing a stage version.
Contact with Wolfgang
H. von Dalberg, the impresario of the “National Theater”
at Mannheim, put Schiller on the road to a new career,
albeit haltingly: numerous changes in content and
language had to be made before the drama—a piece in the
manner of the Sturm und Drang—was performed,
attended by Schiller, absent from duty without leave,
and a resounding success with the audience. Subsequent
performances in Hamburg, Leipzig and Berlin also earned
enthusiastic acclaim. A further surreptitious
attendance of the play drew a two-week prison sentence
for the author, who was already crafting his next stage
work, Fiesco.
At the conclusion of
his formal studies, on December 15, 1780, Schiller was
discharged from the Ducal Academy, but not from military
service. A “utilization tour” of duty as uniformed
Regimental Physician was to follow. The dim promise of
a rewarding career at a meager salary—hopes for a
private practice requiring additional qualifications for
which he had no support had been dashed--social
isolation and, chiefly the suppression to write, drove
Schiller to the desperate act of desertion. On
September 23, 1782, he and a friend, under assumed
names, managed to evade the guards, leaving Stuttgart
and more: his parental ties, his fatherland, his piece
of mind, a regular albeit modest source of income, with
a likelihood of prosecution looming which, however,
never occurred. This ended the “medical phase,”
comprising approximately one-quarter of his adult life;
it also initiated a series of itinerant years, which
eventually led to his fame.
Following the acclaim
of his first play, Schiller was offered “asylum” by a
circle of admirers, which helped him through years of
exile, with some felicity and lots of adversity. His
temporary employment as dramatist in Mannheim carried
with it an agreement that he produce three plays per
year, until non-renewal of his contract. His theater
periodical Rheinische Thalia, enabled him to
establish contact with the literary world of
prominence. One fortuitous event was his meeting Karl
August, Duke of Weimar, on the occasion of presenting
the first act of his play, Don Carlos, and the
resulting appointment as Councillor of Weimar. Leipzig
and Dresden were stations of Schiller’s professional and
social progress, including re-acquaintance with Goethe
whom he had met fleetingly while a student at the Ducal
Academy. He also met his future wife, Charlotte von
Lengefeld, daughter of a Lady in Waiting at the Court of
Weimar. In a rural setting, Schiller was fully occupied
producing reviews, translations, and various literary
works interrupted by occasional respiratory
indisposition accompanied by fever. A regular
contributor to the important periodical Der Teutsche
Merkur improved his pecuniary situation.
Thanks to Goethe’s
influence Schiller obtained a position as professor of
history at the University of Jena in May 1789, followed
by his engagement, his appointment as Privy Counselor,
and marriage. Hardly ever was Schiller from physical
affliction—at times, spasmodic coughs, asthma, and
inability to speak, among other complaints—or the need
of asking for an advance from his publishers.
Even with frequent
bouts of illness he staunchly pressed on with his
literary production, his “itching pen,” and work on an
intellectually demanding journal, Die Horen,
edited by Schiller from January 1795. One of the most
important influences in his intellectual development was
provided by Kantian philosophy which fascinated him.
His ill health, however, abrogated his lecturing at the
University, also causing another appointment to the
University of Tübingen to be rejected. Yet, as Wilhelm
von Humboldt stated in the preface of his correspondence
with Schiller, while stimulating him, Kant “could not
mold him.”
During the “years of
fame” hardly a day passed without seeing Goethe, his
senior friend and mentor, for mutual profit, for
exchange of ideas, critical appraisal of their
respective work, or socially, often in the company of
others, with frequent invitations to the court at
Weimar.
1802 was an eventful
year—and only three years left to go. Schiller was
finally in the position to purchase a house in Weimar,
after selling his home in Jena in order to be closer to
the “scene of action.” It was the property owned by the
Englishman, Joseph Charles Mellison, who was to
translate Schiller’s Maria Stuart into English.
In the same year a revised version of his important
essay on theater seen as a moralistic institution was
published. Schiller was elevated to the ranks of the
aristocracy under date of September 7, 1802. In 1803
Schiller fleetingly experienced impatience with his
residency in Weimar and he articulated the desire to
“look about the world for another domain and sphere of
activity.”[iv]
Occasional frustration is understandable even in the
“rarified” circle of lesser and higher aristocracy. He
made an attempt to approach Queen Luise of Prussia, who
invited his move to Berlin, to consider him for a
position in the theater or as the Crown Prince’s tutor
in history. Still, breakfast in Sans Souci with the
royal couple, followed by discussions of an eventual
lucrative pension for Schiller let him postpone his
decision on return to Weimar. Ultimately, he opted to
remain in Weimar.
The above biographical
sketch reflects Schiller’s adult life in two major
segments, the first ending with the epilogue to his
aborted medical studies, which comprised one-quarter of
his life span, and which became a “prologue” to the
second, far more illustrious part, eventually leading to
immortality. While his “first
love”—literature—prevailed, there is no doubt that his
years at the Ducal Academy prepared him in the
discipline of physiology, along with early psychology,
which proved to be invaluable preparatory training for
dramatically casting characters and scenes to best
advantage. Schiller is known also for taking liberties
with history, such as ameliorating characters if the
issue was to demonstrate where his sympathies lay and if
such maneuvers behooved the drama, to invent characters
for the purpose of advancing the plot, or to “bend”
history when he deemed such a distortion indicated for
stage effect.
Given his precarious
constitution and his early medical training he displayed
a lifelong familiar if uneasy relationship with death,
whose manifestations he was prone to vary: in accordance
with dramatic demands, death could be glorified, cast
as a sacrificial act for an idea or an ideal, or an act
of atonement. In keeping with his theory of sublimity
and tragic dignity (1790) he shifted the scene of death
from the stake to the more honorable field of battle,
and even dedicated his Anthology for the Year 1782
to “his master, Death.” Death as a “hunter of
mankind” and terminator may, on the other hand, be able
to spare mankind untold suffering.
The plots of his poems
repeatedly reveal—often in the guise of antiquity or in
medieval costume—timeless themes of friendship, loyalty,
praise of noble acts
performed by persons from any
social stratum, and likewise condemnation of evil
characters and acts of which tyrants of whatever
description are capable. The reader is presented
convincingly a veritable catalog of misdeeds from minor
infractions to the seven deadly sins, with which modern
man can identify. Generation after generation of
Gymnasium (University prep schools) students in German
speaking countries “grew to their maturity” to the
lyrics of Schiller—memorizing, analyzing, freely quoting
within the context even of informal conversation as he
appealed to the younger generation, especially in the
development of German idealism. Even if Schiller’s
reception has fluctuated over the years as mentioned
earlier, his position in intellectual history is secure
in spite of the mixed aspect accorded the force of his
creativity by critics of literature and historians of
philosophy.
By reading some of
Schiller’s profound messages in verse and his
philosophical essays and letters we will appreciate the
ethical and aesthetic concepts which pervade his
dramatic masterpieces. On the topic of “virtue” and
what constitutes a moral act, Schiller came to grips
with the issue, transcending Kant’s rigorous moral
philosophy with respect to the idea of all too strict
conformity to duty. In his essays Űber Anmut und
Würde (On Grace and Dignity) Schiller seeks to
mellow Kant’s position by pointing to the desirable
duality of inclination and obligation, which renders
duty more acceptable. Virtue, then, is understood as a
favorable inclination to duty. He describes the
character of the “schöne Seele” (“beautiful soul”),
an “ideal” person in whom sensuousness, rationality,
obligation and inclination are harmonized through man’s
Spieltrieb (play-instinct).
Schiller’s principal
contribution to aesthetic philosophy[v]
is his essay Űber die ästhetische Erziehung des
Menschen in einer Reihe von Briefen (On the
Aesthetic Education of Man, in a Series of Letters)
(1795). In twenty-seven letters he elucidates his
concept of aesthetic education—the refinement of the
instinctive element of man achievable through the beauty
of art. The process of playing, creating, and enjoying
the beautiful will help man to develop ethically.
This fusion of
aesthetics and ethics brings Schiller to the notion of
the aesthetic Schein (realm of beautiful
semblance, which does not seek to replace reality nor
imperil the truth of moral law. The beautiful is the
source of reconciliation between the citizen and
society.[vi]
He concludes his essays by citing the metaphor of a
harmonious political state founded on individuality
having recovered humanity through beauty. Schiller
allows that this theory was only an ideal, but that in
this realm “no one is a mere instrument, no one a serf.”[vii]
The progression had led to conclusion not through
violence, but through the mind by aesthetic education.
This is a valuable lesson for our and all times.
Notes
[i]
Lesley Sharpe. Schiller’s Aesthetics Essays:
Two Centuries of Criticism (Columbia, SC:
Camden House, 1995) 35.
[ii]
Kenneth Dewhurst and Nigel Reeves. Friedrich
Schiller. Medicine, Psychology and Medicine
(Berkeley, Los Angeles: University of California
Press, 1987) 89. Hereafter cited as Dewhurst.
[iii]
Andreas and Andreas, eds. Die Grossen
Klassiker. Friedrich Schille (Salzburg:
Verlagsbuchhandel. 1997) 27.
[iv]
Gero von Wilpert. Schiller-Chronik. Sein
Leben und Schaffen (Stuttgart: Kröner, 1958)
282.
[v]
Schillers Werke. Nationalausgabe, Vol.
20, ed. Benno von Wiese (Weimar: Böhlau, 1962)
287-288.
[vi]
German Essays III. Schiller, eds. Max
Dufner and Valentine C. Hubbs (New York:
Macmillan, 1964) 4.