The Story of My Life
GA 28
Chapter IV
[ 1 ] For the form of the experience of spirit which I then desired to establish upon a firm foundation within me, music came to have a critical significance. At that time there was proceeding in the most intense fashion in the spiritual environment in which I lived the “strife over Wagner.” During my boyhood and youth I had seized every opportunity to improve my knowledge of music. The attitude I held toward thinking required this by implication. For me, thought had content in itself. It possessed this not merely through the percept which it expressed. This, however, obviously led over into the experience of pure musical tone-forms as such. The world of tone in itself was to me the revelation of an essential side of reality. That music should “express” something else besides the tone-form, as was then maintained in every possible way by the followers of Wagner, seemed to me utterly “unmusical.”
[ 2 ] I was always of a social disposition. Because of this I had even in my school-days at Wiener-Neustadt, and then again in Vienna, formed many friendships. In opinions I seldom agreed with these friends. This, however, did not mean at all that there was not an inwardness and mutual stimulus in these friendships. One of these was with a young man pre-eminently idealistic. With his blond hair and frank blue eyes he was the very type of a young German. He was then quite absorbed in Wagnerism. Music that lived in itself, that would weave itself in tones alone, was to him a cast-off world of horrible Philistines. What revealed itself in the tones as in a kind of speech – that for him gave the tone-forms their value. We attended together many concerts and many operas. We always held opposite views. My limbs grew as heavy as lead when “oppressive music” inflamed him to ecstasy; and he was horribly bored by music which did not pretend to be anything else but music.
[ 3 ] The debates with this friend stretched out endlessly. In long walks together, in long sessions over our cups of coffee, he drew out his “proofs” expressed in animated fashion, that only with Wagner had true music been born, and that everything which had gone before was only a preparation for this “discoverer of music.” This led me to assert my own opinions in drastic fashion. I spoke of the barbarism of Wagner, the graveyard of all understanding of music.
[ 4 ] On special occasions the argument grew particularly animated. At one time my friend very noticeably formed the habit of directing our almost daily walk to a narrow little street, and passing up and down it many times discussing Wagner. I was so absorbed in our argument that only gradually did it dawn upon me how he had got this bent. At the window of one of the little houses on the narrow alley there sat at the time of our walk a charming girl. There was no relationship between him and the girl except that he saw her sitting at the window almost every day, and at times was aware that a glance she let fall on the street was meant for him.
[ 5 ] At first I only noticed that his championship of Wagner – which in any case was fierce enough – was fanned to a brilliant flame in this little alley. And when I became aware of what a current flowed from that vicinity into his inspired heart, he grew confidential in this matter also, and I came to share in the tenderest, most beautiful, most passionate young love. The relation between the two never went much beyond what I have described. My friend, who came of people not blessed with worldly goods, had soon after to take a petty journalistic job in a provincial city. He could not think of any nearer tie with the girl. But neither was he strong enough to overcome the existing relationship. I kept up a correspondence with him for a long time. A melancholy note of resignation marked his letters. That from which he had been forced to cut himself off was still living and strong in his heart.
[ 6 ] Long after life had brought to an end my correspondence with this friend of my youth, I chanced to meet a person from the same city in which he had found a place as a journalist. I had always been fond of him, and I asked about him. This person said to me: “Yes, things turned out very badly for him; he could scarcely earn his bread. Finally he became a writer in my employ, and then he died of tuberculosis.” This news stabbed me to the heart, for I knew that once the idealistic, fair-haired youth, under the compulsion of circumstances, had in his own feelings severed his relation with his young love, then it made no difference to him what life might further bring to him. He considered it of no value to lay the basis for a life which could not be that one which had floated before him as an ideal during our walks in that little street.
[ 7 ] In intercourse with this friend my anti-Wagnerism of that period came to realization in even more positive form. But, apart from this, it played any way a great rôle in my mental life at that time. I strove in all directions to find my way into music which had nothing to do with Wagnerism. My love for “pure music” increased with the passage of years; my horror at the “barbarism” of “music as expression” continued to increase. And in this matter it was my lot to get into a human environment in which there were scarcely any other persons than admirers of Wagner. This all contributed much toward the fact that only much later did I grudgingly fight my way to an understanding of Wagner, the obviously human attitude toward so significant a cultural phenomenon. This struggle, however, belongs to a later period of my life. In the period I am now describing, a performance of Tristan, for example, to which I had to accompany one of my pupils, was to me “mortally boring.”
To this time belongs still another youthful friendship very significant for me. This was with a young man who was in every way the opposite of the fair-haired youth. He felt that he was a poet. With him, too, I spent a great deal of time in stimulating talk. He was very sensitive to everything poetic. At an early age he undertook important productions. When we became acquainted, he had already written a tragedy, Hannibal, and much lyric verse.
[ 8 ] I was with both these friends in the “practice in oral and written lectures” which Schröer conducted in the Hochschule. From this course we three, and many others, received the greatest inspiration. We young people could discuss what we had arrived at in our minds and Schröer talked over everything with us and elevated our souls by his dominant idealism and his noble capacity for imparting inspiration.
[ 9 ] My friend often accompanied me when I had the privilege of visiting Schröer. There he always grew animated, whereas elsewhere a note of burden was manifest in his life. Because of a certain discord he was not ready to face life. No calling was so attractive to him that he would gladly have entered upon it. He was altogether taken up with his poetic interest, and apart from this he found no satisfying relation with existence. At last he had to take a position quite unattractive to him. With him also I continued my connection by means of letters. The fact that even in his poetry he could not find real satisfaction preyed upon his spirit. Life for him was not filled with anything possessing worth. I had to observe to my sorrow, how little by little in his letters and also in his conversation the belief grew upon him that he was suffering from an incurable disease. Nothing sufficed to dispel this groundless obsession. So one day I had to receive the distressing news that the young man who was very near to me had made an end of himself.
[ 10 ] A real inward friendship I formed at this time also with a young man who had come from the German Transylvania to the Vienna Hochschule. Him also I had first met in Schröer's Seminar periods. There he had read a paper on pessimism. Everything which Schopenhauer had presented in favour of this conception of life was revived in that paper. In addition there was the personal, pessimistic temperament of the young man himself. I determined to oppose his views. I refuted pessimism with veritable words of thunder, even calling Schopenhauer narrow-minded, and wound up my exposition with the sentence: “If the gentleman who read the paper were correct in his position with respect to pessimism, then I had rather be the wooden board on which my feet now tread than be a man.” These words were for a long time repeated jestingly about me among my acquaintances. But they made of the young pessimist and me inwardly united friends. We now passed much time together. He also felt himself to be a poet, and many a time I sat for hours in his room and listened with pleasure to the reading of his poems. In my spiritual strivings of that time he also showed a warm interest, although he was moved to this less by the thing itself with which I was concerned than by his personal affection for me. He was bound up with many a delightful friendship, and also youthful love affairs. As a means of living he had to carry a truly heavy burden. At Hermannstadt he had gone through the school as a poor boy and even then had to make his living by tutoring. He then conceived the clever idea of continuing to instruct by correspondence from Vienna the pupils he had gained at Hermannstadt. The sciences in the Hochschule interested him very little. One day, however, he wished to pass an examination in chemistry. He had never attended a lecture or opened a single one of the required books. On the last night before the examination he had a friend read to him a digest of the whole subject-matter. He finally fell asleep over this. Yet he went with this friend to the examination. Both made “brilliant” failures.
[ 11 ] This young man had boundless faith in me. For a long time he treated me almost as his father-confessor. He opened up to my view an interesting, often melancholy, life sensitive to all that is beautiful. He gave to me so much friendship and love that it was really hard at times not to cause him bitter disappointment. This happened especially because he often felt that I did not show him enough attention. And yet this could not be otherwise when I had so many varieties of interests for which I found in him no real understanding. All this, however, only contributed to make the friendship a more inward relationship. He spent his summer vacation at Hermannstadt. There he sought for students in order to tutor them by correspondence the following year from Vienna. I always received long letters at these times from him. He was grieved because I seldom or never answered these. But, when he returned to Vienna in the autumn, he hurried to me like a boy, and the united life began again. I owed it to him at that time that I was able to mingle with many men. He liked to take me to meet all the people with whom he associated. And I was eager for companionship. This friend brought into my life much that gave me happiness and warmth.
[ 12 ] Our friendship remained the same till my friend died a few years ago. It stood the test of many storms of life, and I shall still have much to say of it.
[ 13 ] In retrospective consciousness much comes to mind of human and vital relationships which still continues to-day fully present in my mind, united with feelings of love and gratitude. Here I cannot relate all this in detail, but must leave quite unmentioned much which was indeed very near to me in my personal experience, and is near even now.
[ 14 ] My youthful friendships in the time of which I am here speaking had in the further course of my life a special import. They forced me into a sort of double mental life. The struggle with the riddle of cognition, which then filled my mind more than all else, aroused in my friends always, to be sure, a strong interest, but very little active participation. In the experience of this riddle I was always rather lonely. On the other hand, I myself shared completely in whatever arose in the existence of my friends. Thus there flowed along in me two parallel currents of life: one which I as a lone wanderer followed, the other which I shared in vital companionship with men bound to me by ties of affection. But this twofold life was on many occasions of profound and lasting significance for my development.
[ 15 ] In this connection I must mention especially a friend who had already been a schoolmate of mine at Wiener-Neustadt. During that time, however, we were far apart. First in Vienna, where he visited me often and where he later lived as an employee, he came very close to me. And yet even at Wiener-Neustadt, without any external relationship between us, he had already had a significance for my life. Once I was with him in a gymnasium period. While he was exercising and I had nothing to do, he left a book lying by me. It was Heine's book on the romantic school and the history of philosophy in Germany. I glanced into it. The result of this was that I read the whole book. I found many stimulating things in the book, but was vitally opposed to the manner in which Heine treated the content of life which was dear to me. In this perception of a way of thought and order of feeling which were utterly opposed to those shaping themselves in me, I received a powerful stimulus toward a self-consciousness in the orientation of the inner life which was a necessity of my very nature. [ 16 ] I then talked with my schoolmate in opposition to the book. Through this the inner life of his soul came to the fore, which later led to the establishing of a lasting friendship. He was an uncommunicative man who confided very little. Most people thought him an odd character. With those few in whom he was willing to confide he became quite expressive, especially in letters. He considered himself called by his inner nature to be a poet. He was of the opinion that he bore a great treasure in his soul. Besides, he was inclined to imagine that he was in intimate relation with other persons, especially women, rather than actually to form these ties into objective fact. At times he was close to such a relation, but he could not bring it to actual experience. In conversation with me he would then live through his fancies with the same inwardness and enthusiasm as if they were actual. Therefore it was inevitable that he experienced bitter emotions when the dreams always went amiss.
[ 17 ] This produced in him a mental life that had not the slightest relation to his outward existence. And this life again was to him the subject of tormenting reflections about himself, which were mirrored for me in many letters and conversations. Thus he once wrote me a long exposition of the way in which the least or the greatest experience became to him a symbol and how he lived in such symbols.
[ 18 ] I loved this friend, and in my love for him I entered into his dreams, although I always had the feeling when with him: “We are moving about in the clouds and have no ground under our feet!” For me, who ceaselessly busied myself to find firm support for life just there – in knowledge – this was an unique experience. I always had to slip outside of my own being and leap across into another skin, as it were, when I was in company with this friend. He liked to share his life with me; at times he even set forth extensive theoretical reflections concerning the “difference between our two natures.” He was quite unaware how little our thoughts harmonized, because his friendly sentiments led him on in all his thinking.
[ 19 ] The case was similar in my relation with another Wiener-Neustadt schoolmate. He belonged to the next lower class in the Realschule, and we first came together when he entered the Hochschule in Vienna a year after me. Then, however, we were often together. He also entered but little into that which concerned me so inwardly, the problem of cognition. He studied chemistry. The natural scientific opinions in which he was then involved prevented him from showing himself in any other light than as a sceptic concerning the spiritual conceptions with which I was filled. Later on in life I found in the case of this friend how close to my state of mind he then stood in his innermost being; but at that time he never allowed this innermost being to show itself. Thus our lively and long arguments became for me a “battle against materialism.” He always opposed to my avowal of the spiritual substance of the world all the contradictory results which seemed to him to be given by natural science. Then I always had to array everything I possessed by way of insight in order to drive from the field his arguments, drawn from the materialistic orientation of his thought, against the knowledge of a spiritual world.
[ 20 ] Once we were arguing the question with great zeal. Every day after attending the lectures in Vienna my friend went back to his home, which was still at Wiener-Neustadt. I often accompanied him through the streets of Vienna to the station of the Southern Railway. One day we reached a sort of climax in the argument over materialism after we had already arrived at the station and the train was almost due. Then I put together what I still had to say in the following words: “So, then, you maintain that, when you say ‘I think,’ this is merely the necessary effect of the occurrences in your brain-nerve system. Only these occurrences are a reality. So it is, likewise, When you say ‘I am this or that,' ‘I go,’ and so forth. But observe this. You do not say, ‘My brain thinks,’ ‘My brain sees this or that,’ ‘My brain goes.’ If, however, you have really come to the opinion that what you theoretically maintain is actually true, you must correct your form of expression. When you continue to speak of ‘I,’ you are really lying. But you cannot do otherwise than follow your sound instinct against the suggestion of your theory. Experience offers you a different group of facts from that which your theory makes up. Your consciousness calls your theory a lie.” My friend shook his head. He had no time to reply. As I went back alone, I could not but think that opposing materialism in this crude fashion did not correspond with a particularly exact philosophy. But it did not then really concern me so much to furnish, five minutes before the train left, a philosophically convincing proof as to give expression to my certitude from inner experience of the reality of the human ego. To me this ego was an inwardly observable experience of a reality present in itself. This reality seemed to me no less certain than any known to materialism. But in it there is absolutely nothing material. This thorough-going perception of the reality and the spirituality of the ego has in the succeeding years helped me to overcome every temptation to materialism. [ 21 ] I have always known “the ego is unshakable.” And it has been clear to me that no one really knows the ego who considers it as a form of phenomenon, as a result of other events. The fact that I possessed this perception inwardly and spiritually was what I wished to get my friend to understand. We fought together many times thereafter on this battlefield. But in general conceptions of life we had so many similar sentiments that the earnestness of our theoretical battling never resulted in the least disturbance of our personal relationship.
During this time I got deeper into the student life in Vienna. I became a member of the “German Reading Club” in the Hochschule. In the assembly and in smaller gatherings the political and cultural phenomena of the time were thoroughly discussed. These discussions brought out all possible – and impossible – points of view, such as young people hold. Especially when officers were to be elected, opinions clashed against one another quite violently. Very exciting and stimulating was much that there found expression among the youth in connection with the events in the public life of Austria. It was the time when national parties were becoming more and more sharply defined. Everything which led later more and more to the disruption of the Empire, which appeared in its results after the World War, could then be experienced in germ.
[ 22 ] I was first chosen librarian of the reading-room. As such I found out all possible authors who had written books that I thought would be of value to the student library. To such authors I wrote “begging letters.” I often wrote in a single week a hundred such letters. Through this “work” of mine the library was very soon much enlarged. But the thing had a secondary effect for me. Through the work it was possible for me to become acquainted in a comprehensive fashion with the scientific, artistic, culture-historical, political literature of the time. I was an eager reader of the books given.
Later I was chosen president of the Reading Club. This, however, was to me a burdensome office. For I faced a great number of the most diverse party view-points and saw in all of these their relative justification. Yet the adherents of the various parties would come to me. Each would seek to persuade me that his party alone was right. At the time when I was elected every party had favoured me. For until then they had only heard how in the assemblies I had taken the part of justice. After I had been president for a half-year, all turned against me. In that time they had found that I could not decide as positively for any party as that party wished.
[ 23 ] My craving for companionship found great satisfaction in the reading-room. And an interest was awakened in a broader field of the public life through its reflection in the occurrences in the common life of the students. In this way I came to be present at very interesting parliamentary debates, sitting in the gallery of the House of Delegates or of the Senate.
[ 24 ] Apart from the bills under discussion – which often affected life profoundly – I was especially interested in the personalities of the House of Delegates. There stood every year at the end of his bench, as the chief budget expositor, the keen philosopher, Bartolemäus Carneri. His words were a hailstorm of accusations against the Taaffe Ministry; they were a defence of Germanism in Austria. There stood Ernst von Plener, the dry speaker, the unexcelled authority in matters of finance. One was chilled while he criticized the statement of the Minister of Finance, Dunajewski, with the coldness of an accountant. There the Ruthenian Thomeszuck thundered against the politics of nationalities. One had the feeling that upon his discovery of an especially well-coined word for that moment depended the fostering of antipathy against the Minister. There argued, in peasant-theatrical fashion, always intelligently, the clerical Lienbacher. His head, bowed over a little, caused what he said to seem like the outflow of clarified perceptions. There argued in his cutting style the Young Czech Gregr. One felt in him a half-demagogue. There stood Rieger of the Old Czechs, altogether with the deeply characteristic sentiment of the organized Czechs as they had been built up during a long period and had come to self consciousness during the second half of the nineteenth century – a man seldom shut up to himself, a powerful mind and a steadfast will. There spoke on the right side of the Chamber in the midst of the Polish seats Otto Hausner – often only setting forth the results of reading spiritually rich; often sending well-aimed shafts to all sides of the House with a certain sense of satisfaction in himself. A thoroughly self-satisfied but intelligent eye sparkled behind a monocle; the other always seemed to say “Yes” to the sparkle. A speaker who, however, even then often spoke prophetic words as to the future of Austria. One ought to-day to read again what he then said; one would be amazed at the keenness of his vision. One then laughed, to be sure, over much which years later became bitter earnest.
Chapter IV
[ 1 ] Für die Form des Geist-Erlebens, die ich damals in mir auf eine sichere Grundlage bringen wollte, wurde das Musikalische von einer krisenhaften Bedeutung. Es lebte sich zu dieser Zeit in der geistigen Umgebung, in der ich mich befand, der «Streit um Wagner» in der heftigsten Art aus. Ich hatte während meines Knaben- und Jugendlebens jede Gelegenheit benützt, um mein Musikverständnis zu fördern. Die Stellung, die ich zum Denken hatte, brachte das mit sich. Für mich hatte das Denken Inhalt durch sich selbst. Es bekam ihn nicht bloß durch die Wahrnehmung, die es ausdrückt. Das aber führte wie mit Selbstverständlichkeit in das Erleben des reinen musikalischen Tongebildes als solchen hinüber. Die Welt der Töne an sich war mir die Offenbarung einer wesentlichen Seite der Wirklichkeit. Daß das Musikalische über die Töne-Formung hinaus noch etwas «ausdrücken» sollte, wie es von den Anhängern Wagners damals in allen möglichen Arten behauptet wurde, schien mir ganz «unmusikalisch».
[ 2 ] Ich war stets ein geselliger Mensch. Dadurch hatte ich schon während meiner Schulzeit in Wiener-Neustadt und dann wieder in Wien viele Freundschaften geschlossen. In den Meinungen stimmte ich selten mit diesen Freunden zusammen. Das hinderte aber niemals, daß Innigkeit und starke gegenseitige Anregung in den Freundschaftsbündnissen lebte. Eines derselben ward mit einem herrlich idealistisch gesinnten jungen Manne geschlossen. Er war mit seinen blonden Locken, mit den treuherzigen blauen Augen so recht der Typus des deutschen Jünglings. Der war nun ganz mitgerissen von dem Wagnertum. Musik, die in sich selbst lebte, die nur in Tönen weben wollte, war ihm eine abgetane Welt greulicher Philister. Was in den Tönen sich offenbarte wie in einer Art von Sprache, das machte für ihn das Tongebilde wertvoll. Wir besuchten zusammen manches Konzert und manche Oper. Wir waren stets verschiedener Meinung. In meinen Gliedern lagerte etwas wie Blei, wenn die «ausdrucksvolle Musik» ihn bis zur Ekstase entflammte; er langweilte sich entsetzlich, wenn Musik erklang, die nichts als Musik sein wollte.
[ 3 ] Die Debatten mit diesem Freunde dehnten sich ins Endlose aus. Auf langen Spaziergängen, in Dauersitzungen bei einer Tasse Kaffee führte er seine in begeisterten Worten sich aussprechenden «Beweise» durch, daß mit Wagner eigentlich erst die wahre Musik geboren worden sei, und daß alles Frühere nur eine Vorbereitung zu diesem «Entdecker des Musikalischen» sei. Mich brachte das dazu, meine Empfindung in recht drastischer Art zur Geltung zu bringen. Ich sprach von der Wagner'schen Barbarei, die das Grab alles wirklichen Musikverständnisses sei.
[ 4 ] Besonders heftig wurden die Debatten bei besonderen Gelegenheiten. Es trat bei meinem Freunde eines Tages der merkwürdige Hang ein, unseren fast täglichen Spaziergängen die Richtung nach einem engen Gäßchen zu geben, und mit mir da, Wagner diskutierend, oft viele Male auf- und abzugehen. Ich war in unsere Debatten so vertieft, daß mir erst allmählich ein Licht darüber aufging, wie er zu diesem Hang gekommen war. Am Fenster eines Hauses dieses Gäßchens saß um die Zeit unserer Spaziergänge ein anmutiges junges Mädchen. Es gab für ihn zunächst keine andere Beziehung zu dem Mädchen als die, daß er es am Fenster fast täglich sitzen sah und zuweilen das Bewußtsein hatte, ein Blick, den es auf die Straße fallen ließ, gelte ihm.
[ 5 ] Ich empfand zunächst nur, wie sein Eintreten für Wagner, das auch sonst schon feurig genug war, in diesem Gäßchen zur hellen Flamme aufloderte. Und als ich darauf kam, welche Nebenströmung da immer in sein begeistertes Herz floß, da wurde er auch nach dieser Richtung mitteilsam, und ich wurde der Mitfühlende bei einer der zartesten, schönsten, schwärmerischsten Jugendliebe. Das Verhältnis kam nicht viel über den geschilderten Stand hinaus. Mein Freund, der aus einer nicht mit Glücksgütern gesegneten Familie stammte, mußte bald eine kleine Journalistenstelle in einer Provinzstadt antreten. Er konnte an keine nähere Verbindung mit dem Mädchen denken. Er war auch nicht stark genug, die Verhältnisse zu meistern. Ich blieb noch lange mit ihm in brieflicher Verbindung. Ein trauriger Nachklang von Resignation tönte aus seinen Briefen heraus. In seinem Herzen lebte das fort, von dem er sich hatte trennen müssen.
[ 6] Ich traf, nachdem das Leben lange schon dem Briefverkehr mit dem Jugendfreunde ein Ende bereitet hatte, mit einer Persönlichkeit aus der Stadt zusammen, in der er seine Journalistenstellung gefunden hatte. Ich hatte ihn immer lieb behalten und frug nach ihm Da sagte mir die Persönlichkeit: «Ja, dem ist es recht schlecht ergangen; er konnte kaum sein Brot verdienen, zuletzt war er Schreiber bei mir, dann starb er an einer Lungenkrankheit.» Mir schnitt diese Mitteilung ins Herz, denn ich wußte, daß der idealistische blonde Mann sich von seiner Jugendliebe dereinst unter dem Zwange der Verhältnisse mit dem Gefühle getrennt hatte, es sei für ihn gleichgültig, was ihm das Leben ferner noch bringen werde. Er legte keinen Wert darauf, sich ein Leben zu begründen, das doch nicht so sein konnte, wie es als ein Ideal ihm bei unseren Spaziergängen in dem engen Gäßchen vorschwebte.
[ 7 ] Im Verkehr mit diesem Freunde ist mein damaliges Anti-Wagnertum nur eben in starker Form zum Ausleben gekommen. Aber es spielte in dieser Zeit auch sonst eine große Rolle in meinem Seelenleben. Ich suchte mich nach allen Seiten in das Musikalische, das mit Wagnerturn nichts zu tun hatte, hineinzufinden. Meine Liebe zur «reinen Musik» wuchs durch mehrere Jahre; mein Abscheu gegen die «Barbarei» einer «Musik als Ausdruck» wurde immer größer. Und dabei hatte ich das Schicksal, daß ich in menschliche Umgebungen kam, in denen fast ausschließlich Wagner-Verehrer waren. Das alles trug viel dazu bei, daß es mir - viel - später recht sauer wurde, mich bis zu dem Wagner-Verständnis durchzuringen, das ja das menschlich Selbstverständliche gegenüber einer so bedeutenden Kulturerscheinung ist. Doch dieses Ringen gehört einer spätern Zeit meines Lebens an. In der hier geschilderten war mir z. B. eine Tristanaufführung, in die ich einen Schüler von mir begleiten mußte, «ertötend langweilig». In diese Zeit fällt noch eine andere für mich bedeutsame Jugendfreundschaft. Die galt einem jungen Manne, der in allem das Gegenteil des blondgelockten Jünglings darstellte. Er fühlte sich als Dichter. Auch mit ihm verbrachte ich viel Zeit in anregenden Gesprächen. Er hatte große Begeisterung für alles Dichterische. Er machte sich frühzeitig an große Aufgaben. Als wir bekannt wurden, hatte er bereits eine Tragödie «Hannibal » und viel Lyrisches geschrieben.
[ 8 ] Mit beiden Freunden zusammen war ich auch bei den «Übungen im mündlichen Vortrag und schriftlicher Darstellung», die Schröer an der Hochschule abhielt. Davon gingen für uns drei und noch für manchen Andern die schönsten Anregungen aus. Wir jungen Leute konnten, was wir geistig zustande brachten, vortragen und Schröer besprach alles mit uns und erhob unsere Seelen durch seinen herrlichen Idealismus und seine edle Begeisterungsfähigkeit.
[ 9 ] Mein Freund begleitete mich oft, wenn ich Schröer in seinem Heim besuchen durfte. Da lebte er immer auf, während sonst oft ein schwer wirkender Ton durch seine Lebensäußerungen ging. Er wurde durch einen innern Zwiespalt mit dem Leben nicht fertig. Kein Beruf reizte ihn so, daß er ihn hätte mit Freude antreten wollen. Er ging in dem dichterischen Interesse ganz auf und fand außer diesem keinen rechten Zusammenhang mit dem Dasein. Zuletzt wurde nötig, daß er eine ihm gleichgültige Stellung annahm. Ich blieb auch mit ihm in brieflicher Verbindung. Daß er an seiner Dichtkunst selbst nicht eine wirkliche Befriedigung erleben konnte, wirkte zehrend an seiner Seele. Das Leben erfüllte sich für ihn nicht mit Wertvollem. Ich mußte zu meinem Leid erfahren, wie nach und nach in seinen Briefen und auch bei Gesprächen immer mehr sich bei ihm die Ansicht verdichtete, daß er an einer unheilbaren Krankheit litte. Nichts reichte hin, um diesen unbegründeten Verdacht zu zerstreuen. So mußte ich denn eines Tages die Nachricht empfangen, daß der junge Mann, der mir recht nahe stand, seinem Leben selbst ein Ende gemacht habe.
[ 10 ] Recht innige Freundschaft schloß ich damals mit einem jungen Manne, der aus dem deutschen Siebenbürgen nach der Wiener technischen Hochschule gekommen war. Auch ihn hatte ich in Schröers Übungsstunden zuerst getroffen. Da hat er einen Vortrag über den Pessimismus gehalten. Alles, was Schopenhauer für diese Lebensauffassung vorgebracht hat, lebte in diesem Vortrage auf. Dazu kam die eigene pessimistische Lebensstimmung des jungen Mannes. Ich erbot mich, einen Gegenvortrag zu halten. Ich «widerlegte» den Pessimismus mit wahren Donnerworten, nannte schon damals Schopenhauer ein «borniertes Genie» und ließ meine Ausführungen in dem Satze gipfeln, «wenn der Herr Vortragende mit seiner Darstellung über den Pessimismus recht hätte, dann wäre ich lieber der Holzpfosten, auf dem meine Füße stehen, als ein Mensch». Dieses Wort wurde lange spottend in meinem Bekanntenkreise über mich wiederholt. Aber es machte den jungen Pessimisten und mich zu innig verbundenen Freunden. Wir verlebten nun viele Zeit miteinander. Auch er fühlte sich als Dichter. Und ich saß oft viele Stunden lang bei ihm auf seinem Zimmer und hörte gerne dem Vorlesen seiner Gedichte zu. Er brachte auch meinen damaligen geistigen Bestrebungen ein warmes Interesse entgegen, obwohl er dazu weniger durch die Dinge, mit denen ich mich befaßte, als durch seine per. sönliche Liebe zu mir angeregt wurde. Er knüpfte so manche schöne Jugendbekanntschaft und auch Jugendliebe an. Er brauchte das zu seinem Leben, das ein recht schweres war. Er hatte in Hermannstadt die Schule als armer Junge durchgemacht, und mußte da schon sein Leben von Privatstunden unterhalten. Er kam dann auf die geniale Idee, von Wien aus durch Korrespondenz die in Hermannstadt gewonnenen Privatschüler weiter zu unterrichten. Die Hochschul-Wissenschaften interessierten ihn wenig. Einmal wollte er doch ein Examen aus der Chemie ablegen. Er war in keiner Vorlesung und hatte auch kein einschlägiges Buch berührt. In der letzten Nacht vor der Prüfung ließ er sich von einem Freunde einen Auszug aus dem ganzen Stoff vorlesen. Er schlief zuletzt dabei ein. Dennoch ging er mit diesem Freunde zugleich zum Examen. Beide fielen wirklich «glänzend» durch.
[ 11 ] Ein grenzenloses Vertrauen zu mir hatte dieser junge Mann. Er behandelte mich eine Zeitlang fast wie einen Beichtvater. Er breitete ein interessantes, oft traurig stimmendes, für alles Schöne begeistertes Leben vor meiner Seele aus. Er brachte mir soviel Freundschaft und Liebe entgegen, daß es wirklich schwer war, ihn nicht das eine oder andre Mal bitter zu enttäuschen. Das geschah namentlich dadurch, daß er oft glaubte, ich brächte ihm nicht genug Aufmerksamkeit entgegen. Aber das konnte eben doch nicht anders sein, da ich so manchen Interessenkreis hatte, für den ich bei ihm auf ein sachliches Verständnis nicht stieß. Das alles trug aber zuletzt doch nur dazu bei, daß die Freundschaft immer Inniger wurde. Er verbrachte die Ferien jeden Sommer in Hermannstadt. Da sammelte er wieder Schüler, um sie dann das Jahr hindurch von Wien aus per Korrespondenz zu unterrichten. Ich erhielt dann immer lange Briefe von ihm. Er litt darunter, daß ich sie selten oder gar nicht beantwortete. Aber wenn er im Herbste wieder nach Wien kam, dann sprang er mir wie ein Knabe entgegen; und das gemeinsame Leben fing wieder an. Ihm verdankte ich damals, daß ich mit vielen Menschen verkehren konnte. Er liebte es, mich zu allen Leuten zu bringen, mit denen er Zusammenhang hatte. Und ich lechzte nach Geselligkeit. Der Freund brachte vieles in mein Leben, was mir Freude und Wärme gab.
[ 12 ] Diese Freundschaft ist eine solche für das Leben geblieben, bis zu dem vor einigen Jahren erfolgten Tode des Freundes. Sie bewahrte sich durch manchen Lebenssturm hindurch, und ich werde noch vieles von ihr zu sagen haben.
[ 13 ] Im rückschauenden Bewußtsein taucht vieles an Menschen- und Lebensbeziehungen auf, das in Liebe- und Dankesempfindungen heute noch ein volles Dasein in der Seele hat. Hier darf ich nicht alles im einzelnen schildern und muß manches unberührt lassen, das mir gerade im persönlichen Erleben nahe war und nahe geblieben ist.
[ 14 ] Meine Jugendfreundschaften in der Zeit, von der ich hier spreche, hatten zum Fortgang meines Lebens ein eigentümliches Verhältnis. Sie zwangen mich zu einer Art Doppelleben in der Seele. Das Ringen mit den Erkenntnisrätseln, das vor allem damals meine Seele erfüllte, fand bei meinen Freunden zwar stets ein starkes Interesse, aber wenig mittätigen Anteil. Ich blieb im Erleben dieser Rätsel ziemlich einsam. Dagegen lebte ich selbst alles voll mit, was im Dasein meiner Freunde auftauchte. So gingen zwei Lebensströmungen in mir nebeneinander: eine, die ich wie ein einsamer Wanderer verfolgte; und die andere, die ich in lebendiger Geselligkeit mit liebgewonnenen Menschen durchmachte. Aber von tiefgehender, dauernder Bedeutung für meine Entwickelung waren in vielen Fällen auch die Erlel» nisse der zweiten Art.
[ 15 ] Da muß ich besonders eines Freundes gedenken, der schon in Wiener-Neustadt mein Mitschüler war. Während dieser Zeit stand er mir aber ferne. Erst in Wien, wo er mich zuerst öfters besuchte und wo er später als Beamter lebte, trat er mir nahe. Er hatte aber doch, ohne eine äußere Beziehung, schon in Wiener-Neustadt eine Bedeutung für mein Leben gehabt. Ich war mit ihm einmal gemeinsam in einer Turnstunde. Er ließ, während er turnte und ich nichts zu tun hatte, ein Buch neben mir liegen. Es war Heines Buch über «Die romantische Schule» und «Die Geschichte der Philosophie in Deutschland». Ich tat einen Blick hinein. Das wurde zum Anlaß, daß ich das Buch selber las. Ich empfand viele Anregungen daraus, stand aber in einem intensiven Widerspruch zu der Art, wie Heine den mir nahestehenden Lebensinhalt behandelte. In der Anschauung einer Denkungsart und einer Gefühlsrichtung, die der in mir sich ausbildenden völlig entgegengesetzt war, lag eine starke Anregung zur Selbstbesinnung auf die innere Lebensorientierung, die mir, nach meinen Seelenanlagen, notwendig war.
[ 16 ] In Anlehnung an das Buch sprach ich dann mit dem Mitschüler. Dabei kam das innere Leben seiner Seele zum Vorschein, das dann später zur Begründung einer dauernden Freundschaft führte. Er war ein verschlossener Mensch, der sich nur Wenigen mitteilte. Die meisten hielten ihn für einen Sonderling. Den Wenigen gegenüber, denen er sich mitteilen wollte, wurde er namentlich in Briefen sehr gesprächig. Er nahm sich als einen durch innere Veranlagung zum Dichter berufenen Menschen. Er war der Ansicht, daß er einen großen Reichtum in seiner Seele trug. Er hatte dabei auch die Neigung, sich in Beziehungen zu andern, namentlich weiblichen Persönlichkeiten mehr hineinzuträumen, als diese Beziehungen äußerlich wirklich anzuknüpfen. Zuweilen war er einer solchen Anknüpfung nahe, konnte sie aber doch nicht zum wirklichen Erleben bringen. In Gesprächen mit mir lebte er dann seine Träume mit einer Innigkeit und Begeisterung durch, als wenn sie Wirklichkeiten wären. Dabei konnte nicht ausbleiben, daß er bittere Gefühle hatte, wenn die Träume immer wieder zerrannen.
[ 17 ] Das ergab ein seelisches Leben bei ihm, das mit seinem Außendasein nicht das geringste zu tun hatte. Und dieses Leben war ihm wieder der Gegenstand quälender Selbstbetrachtungen, deren Spiegelbild in vielen Briefen an mich und in Gesprächen enthalten war. So schrieb er mir einmal eine lange Auseinandersetzung darüber, wie ihm das kleinste wie das größte Erlebnis innerlich zum Symbol würde und wie er mit solchen Symbolen lebte.
[ 18 ] Ich liebte diesen Freund, und in Liebe ging ich auf seine Träume ein, obgleich ich stets im Zusammensein mit ihm das Gefühl hatte: wir bewegen uns in den Wolken und haben keinen Boden. Das war für mich, der ich mich unablässig bemühte, gerade die festen Stützen des Lebens in der Erkenntnis zu suchen, ein eigenartiges Erleben. Ich mußte immer wieder aus der eigenen Wesenheit herausschlüpfen und wie in eine andere Haut hinüberspringen, wenn ich diesem Freunde gegenüberstand. Er lebte gerne mit mir; er stellte auch zuweilen weitausgreifende theoretische Betrachtungen über die «Verschiedenheit unserer Naturen» an. Er ahnte kaum, wie wenig unsere Gedanken zusammenklangen, weil die Freundesgesinnung über alle Gedanken hinwegführte.
[ 19 ] Mit einem andern Wiener-Neustädter Mitschüler erging es mir ähnlich. Er gehörte dem nächst niedrigeren Jahrgang der Realschule an, und wir traten einander erst nahe, als er ein Jahr später als ich an die technische Hochschule nach Wien kam. Da aber waren wir viel zusammen. Auch er ging wenig auf das ein, was mich auf dem Erkenntnisgebiete innerlich bewegte. Er studierte Chemie. Die naturwissenschaftlichen Ansichten, denen er gegenüberstand, verhinderten ihn damals im Verkehre mit mir, sich anders denn als Zweifler an der Geistesanschauung zu geben, von der ich erfüllt war. Später im Leben habe ich an diesem Freunde erfahren, wie nahe er in seinem innersten Wesen meiner Seelenverfassung schon damals stand; aber er ließ dieses innerste Wesen in jener Zeit gar nicht hervortreten. Und so wurden unsere lebhaften, langdauernden Debatten für mich zu einem «Kampfe gegen den Materialismus». Er setzte meinem Bekenntnis zum Geistgehalt der Welt stets alle aus der Naturwissenschaft vermeintlich sich ergebenden Widerlegungen gegenüber. Ich mußte damals schon alles, was ich an Einsichten hatte, auftreten lassen, um die aus der materialistischen Denkorientierung kommenden Einwürfe gegen eine geistgemäße Welterkenntnis aus dem Felde zu schlagen.
[ 20 ] Einmal spielte sich die Debatte mit großer Lebhaftigkeit ab. Mein Freund fuhr jeden Tag nach dem Besuch der Vorlesungen von Wien nach seinem Wohnort, der in Wiener-Neustadt geblieben war. Ich begleitete ihn oft durch die Wiener Alleegasse zum Südbahnhofe. Wir waren nun an einem Tage in der Materialismusdebatte an einer Art Kulmination angekommen, als wir schon den Bahnhof betreten hatten, und der Zug bald abfahren mußte. Da faßte ich, was ich noch zu sagen hatte, in die folgenden Worte zusammen: «Also du behauptest, wenn du sagst: ich denke, so sei das nur der notwendige Effekt der Vorgänge in deinem Gehirnnervensystem. Diese Vorgänge seien allein Wirklichkeit. Und so sei es, wenn du sagst: ich sehe dies oder das, ich gehe usw. Aber sieh einmal: du sagst doch nicht: mein Gehirn denkt, mein Gehirn sieht das oder das, mein Gehirn geht. Du müßtest doch, wenn du wirklich zu der Einsicht gelangt wärest, was du theoretisch behauptest, sei wahr, deine Redewendung korrigieren. Wenn du dennoch vom «ich» sprichst, so lügst du eigentlich. Aber du kannst nicht anders, als deinem gesunden Instinkte gegen die Einflüsterungen deiner Theorie folgen. Du erlebst einen andern Tatbestand als denjenigen, den deine Theorie verficht. Dein Bewußtsein straft deine Theorie Lügen.» Der Freund schüttelte den Kopf. Zu einer Einwendung hatte er nicht mehr Zeit. Ich ging allein zurück, und konnte nur nachdenken, daß der Einwand gegen den Materialismus in dieser groben Form nicht einer besonders exakten Philosophie entsprach. Aber mir kam es damals wirklich weniger darauf an, einen philosophisch einwandfreien Beweis fünf Minuten vor Zugsabgang zu liefern, als Ausdruck zu geben meiner inneren sicheren Erfahrung von der Wesenheit des menschlichen «Ich». Mir war dieses «Ich» innerlich überschaubares Erlebnis von einer in ihm selbst vorhandenen Wirklichkeit. Diese Wirklichkeit erschien mir nicht weniger gewiß wie irgendeine vom Materialismus anerkannte. Aber in ihr ist gar nichts Materielles. Mir hat dieses Durchschauen der Wirklichkeit und Geistigkeit des «Ich» in den folgenden Jahren über alle Versuchungen des Materialismus hinweggeholfen. Ich wußte:
[ 21 ] an dem «Ich» kann nicht gerüttelt werden. Und mir war klar, daß derjenige das «Ich» eben nicht kennt, der es als eine Erscheinungsform, ein Ergebnis anderer Vorgänge auffaßt. Daß ich dieses als innere, geistige Anschauung hatte, wollte ich dem Freunde gegenüber zum Ausdruck bringen. Wir bekämpften uns noch viel auf diesem Felde. Aber wir hatten in der allgemeinen Lebensansicht so viele ganz gleichgeartete Empfindungen, daß die Heftigkeit unserer theoretischen Kämpfe nie auch nur in die geringsten Mißverständnisse in dem persönlichen Verhältnis umschlug. Ich kam in dieser Zeit tiefer in das studentische Leben in Wien hinein. Ich wurde Mitglied der «deutschen Lesehalle an der technischen Hochschule». In Versammlungen und kleineren Zusammenkünften wurden eingehend die politischen und Kulturerscheinungen der Zeit besprochen. Die Diskussionen ließen alle möglichen - und unmöglichen - Gesichtspunkte, die junge Leute haben konnten, zutage treten. Namentlich wenn Funktionäre gewählt werden sollten, platzten die Meinungen gar heftig aufeinander. Anregend und aufregend war vieles, was sich da unter der Jugend im Zusammenhang mit den Vorgängen im öffentlichen Leben Österreichs abspielte. Es war die Zeit, in der sich die nationalen Parteien in immer schärferer Ausprägung bildeten. Alles, was später in Österreich immer mehr und mehr zur Zerbröckelung des Reiches führte, was nach dem Weltkrieg in seinen Folgen auftrat, konnte damals in seinen Keimen erlebt werden.
[ 22 ] Ich war zunächst zum Bibliothekar der «Lesehalle» gewählt worden. Als solcher machte ich alle möglichen Autoren ausfindig, die Bücher geschrieben hatten, von denen ich glaubte, daß sie für die Studentenbibliothek von Wert sein könnten. An diese Autoren schrieb ich «Pumpbriefe». Ich verfertigte oft in einer Woche wohl hundert solcher Briefe. Durch diese meine «Arbeit» wurde die Bibliothek rasch vergrößert. Aber die Sache hatte für mich einen Nebeneffekt. Ich hatte dadurch die Möglichkeit, in einem weiten Umfange die wissenschaftliche, künstlerische, kulturgeschichtliche, politische Literatur der Zeit kennen zu lernen. Ich war ein eifriger Leser der geschenkten Bücher. Später wurde ich zum Vorsitzenden der «Lesehalle» gewählt. Das aber war für mich ein schwieriges Amt. Denn ich stand einer großen Anzahl der verschiedensten Parteistandpunkte gegenüber und sah in ihnen allen das relativ Berechtigte. Dennoch kamen die Angehörigen der verschiedenen Parteien zu mir. Jeder wollte mich überzeugen, daß nur seine Partei recht habe. Als ich gewählt worden war, stimmten alle Parteien für mich. Denn bis dahin hatten sie nur gehört, wie ich in den Versammlungen für das Berechtigte eingetreten war. Als ich ein halbes Jahr Vorsitzender war, stimmten alle gegen mich. Denn bis dahin hatten sie gefunden, daß ich keiner Partei so stark recht geben konnte, als sie es wollte.
[ 23 ] Mein Geselligkeitstrieb fand in der «Lesehalle» reichliche Befriedigung. Und es wurde auch für weitere Kreise des öffentlichen Lebens das Interesse geweckt durch die Spiegelungen seiner Vorgänge im studentischen Vereinsleben. Ich war damals bei mancher interessanten Parlamentsdebatte auf der Galerie des österreichischen Abgeordneten- und Herrenhauses.
[ 24 ] Mich interessierten außer den oft in das Leben tief einschneidenden Maßnahmen der Parlamente ganz besonders die Persönlichkeiten der Abgeordneten. Da stand an seiner Bankecke jedes Jahr als ein Hauptbudgetredner der feinsinnige Philosoph Bartholomäus Carneri. Seine Worte hagelten schneidende Anklagen gegen das Ministerium Taaffe, sie bildeten eine Verteidigung des Deutschtums in Österreich. Da stand Ernst von Plener, der trockene Redner, die unbestrittene Autorität in Finanzfragen. Man fröstelte, wenn er mit rechnerischer Kälte dem Finanzminister Dunajewski die Ausgaben kritisierte. Da donnerte gegen die Nationalitätenpolitik der Ruthene Tomasczuck. Man hatte das Gefühl, daß es ihm auf die Erfindung eines für den Augenblick besonders gut geprägten Wortes ankam, um für die Minister Antipathien zu nähren. Da redete bäuerlich-schlau, immer gescheit der Klerikale Lienbacher. Sein etwas vorgebeugter Kopf ließ, was er sagte, als den Ausfluß abgeklärter Anschauungen erscheinen. Da redete in seiner Art schneidend der Jungtscheche Gregr. Man hatte bei ihm das Gefühl, einen halben Demagogen vor sich zu haben. Da stand Rieger von den Alttschechen, ganz im tief charakteristischen Sinn das verkörperte Tschechentum, wie es seit langer Zeit sich herangebildet und in der zweiten Hälfte des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts zum Bewußtsein seiner selbst gekommen war. Ein in sich selten abgeschlossener, seelisch vollkräftiger, von sicherem Willen getragener Mann. Da redete auf der rechten Seite, inmitten der Polenbänke, Otto Hausner. Oft nur Lesefrüchte geistreich vortragend, oft spitztreffend nach allen Seiten des Hauses auch sachlich berechtigte Pfeile mit einem gewissen Wohlbehagen sendend. Ein zwar selbstbefriedigtes, aber gescheites Auge blinzelte hinter einem Monokel, das andere schien zu dem Blinzeln stets ein befriedigtes «Ja» zu sagen. Ein Redner, der aber auch zuweilen prophetische Worte für Österreichs Zukunft schon damals fand. Man sollte heute nachlesen, was er damals gesagt hat; man würde über seinen Scharfblick staunen. Man lachte damals sogar über vieles, was nach Jahrzehnten bitterer Ernst geworden ist.
Chapter IV
[ 1 ] For the form of spiritual experience that I wanted to put on a secure foundation within myself at that time, the musical became of crisis-like significance. At that time, the "Wagner controversy" was being played out in the most violent manner in the spiritual environment in which I found myself. During my boyhood and youth I had used every opportunity to further my understanding of music. The position I had towards thinking brought this with it. For me, thinking had content through itself. It didn't just get it from the perception it expresses. But this led naturally to the experience of the pure musical sound image as such. The world of tones in itself was the revelation of an essential side of reality. That the musical should "express" something beyond the formation of tones, as Wagner's followers claimed in all kinds of ways at the time, seemed to me to be completely "unmusical".
[ 2 ] I have always been a sociable person. As a result, I had already made many friends during my school days in Wiener Neustadt and then again in Vienna. I rarely agreed with these friends on opinions. However, this never prevented intimacy and strong mutual stimulation from living in the friendships. One of these was with a wonderfully idealistic young man. With his blond curls and loyal blue eyes, he was the very type of German youth. He was now completely carried away by Wagnerism. Music that lived in itself, that only wanted to weave in sounds, was to him a world of abominable philistines. What was revealed in the notes, as in a kind of language, was what made the sound structure valuable to him. We went to many a concert and opera together. We always had different opinions. There was something like lead in my limbs when the "expressive music" inflamed him to the point of ecstasy; he was terribly bored when music was played that wanted to be nothing but music.
[ 3 ] The debates with this friend stretched into infinity. On long walks, in continuous sessions over a cup of coffee, he would give his "proofs", expressed in enthusiastic words, that true music had only been born with Wagner, and that everything before was only a preparation for this "discoverer of the musical". This led me to express my feelings in a rather drastic manner. I spoke of Wagnerian barbarism, which was the grave of all real understanding of music.
[ 4 ] The debates became particularly heated on special occasions. One day, my friend had a strange tendency to take our almost daily walks in the direction of a narrow alley and to walk up and down it with me many times, discussing Wagner. I was so engrossed in our debates that only gradually did I realize how he had come to this inclination. At the window of a house in this little lane, at the time of our walks, sat a charming young girl. At first he had no other relationship to the girl than that he saw her sitting at the window almost every day and sometimes had the feeling that a glance she cast at the street was meant for him.
[ 5 ] At first I only felt how his advocacy of Wagner, which was already fiery enough in other respects, flared up into a bright flame in this little alley. And when I realized what side current was always flowing into his enthusiastic heart, he also became sympathetic in this direction, and I became the sympathizer of one of the tenderest, most beautiful, most rapturous youthful loves. The relationship did not progress much beyond the stage described. My friend, who came from a family not blessed with good fortune, soon had to take up a small job as a journalist in a provincial town. He could not think of any closer connection with the girl. Nor was he strong enough to cope with the circumstances. I kept in touch with him by letter for a long time. There was a sad echo of resignation in his letters. What he had had to part with lived on in his heart.
[ 6 ] Long after life had put an end to my correspondence with my childhood friend, I met a person from the city where he had found his journalistic position. I had always held him dear and asked about him. The person told me: "Yes, he was in a very bad way; he could hardly earn a living, he was a writer for me at last, then he died of a lung disease." This information cut me to the heart, for I knew that the idealistic blond man had once parted from his childhood sweetheart under the pressure of circumstances with the feeling that he didn't care what life would bring him in the future. He attached no importance to establishing a life for himself that could not be the ideal he had in mind during our walks in the narrow lane.
[ 7 ] In my dealings with this friend, my anti-Wagnerianism at the time only came to the fore in a strong form. But it also played a major role in my mental life at that time. I tried in all directions to find my way into music that had nothing to do with Wagner. My love of "pure music" grew over several years; my abhorrence of the "barbarism" of "music as expression" grew ever greater. And at the same time I had the fate of being surrounded by people who were almost exclusively Wagner admirers. All this contributed a great deal to the fact that - much - later it became quite difficult for me to wrestle my way through to an understanding of Wagner, which is the humanly natural thing to do with such an important cultural phenomenon. But this struggle belongs to a later period of my life. In the period described here, for example, I found a performance of Tristan, to which I had to accompany a pupil of mine, "mind-numbingly boring". Another childhood friendship that was significant for me occurred during this time. It was with a young man who was the opposite of the fair-haired youth. He considered himself a poet. I also spent a lot of time with him in stimulating conversations. He had great enthusiasm for everything poetic. He set himself big tasks early on. When we became acquainted, he had already written a tragedy "Hannibal" and much poetry.
[ 8 ] I also took part in the "Exercises in oral and written presentation" with both friends, which Schröer held at the university. This provided the three of us and many others with the most wonderful inspiration. We young people were able to present what we were able to achieve intellectually and Schröer discussed everything with us and uplifted our souls with his wonderful idealism and noble enthusiasm.
[ 9 ] My friend often accompanied me when I was allowed to visit Schröer in his home. He always livened up there, whereas otherwise there was often a heavy tone to his life. He was unable to cope with life because of an inner conflict. No profession appealed to him in such a way that he would have wanted to take it up with joy. He was completely absorbed in his interest in poetry and found no real connection with existence apart from this. In the end it became necessary for him to accept a position that was indifferent to him. I also kept in touch with him by letter. The fact that he could not experience any real satisfaction in his poetry itself had a draining effect on his soul. Life was not filled with anything worthwhile for him. To my sorrow, I had to experience how his letters and conversations gradually reinforced the view that he was suffering from an incurable illness. Nothing was enough to dispel this unfounded suspicion. So one day I had to receive the news that the young man, who was very close to me, had ended his own life.
[ 10 ] I became very close friends with a young man who had come to the Vienna Technical University from Transylvania in Germany. I had also first met him in Schröer's training sessions. There he gave a lecture on pessimism. Everything that Schopenhauer had put forward in favor of this view of life came to life in this lecture. Added to this was the young man's own pessimistic outlook on life. I offered to give a counter-lecture. I "refuted" pessimism with truly thunderous words, called Schopenhauer a "narrow-minded genius" even then and culminated my remarks with the sentence, "If the lecturer were right in his description of pessimism, then I would rather be the wooden post on which my feet stand than a human being". This word was mockingly repeated about me for a long time among my acquaintances. But it turned the young pessimist and I into close friends. We now spent a lot of time together. He also felt like a poet. And I often sat with him in his room for many hours and enjoyed listening to him read his poems. He also took a warm interest in my intellectual endeavors at that time, although he was inspired to do so less by the things I was concerned with than by his personal love for me. He made many a beautiful youthful acquaintance and also youthful love. He needed that for his life, which was a very difficult one. He had gone through school in Sibiu as a poor boy and had to make a living from private lessons. He then had the ingenious idea of continuing to teach the private pupils he had acquired in Sibiu by correspondence from Vienna. He had little interest in university science. Once he wanted to take an exam in chemistry. He did not attend any lectures and had not even touched a relevant book. On the last night before the exam, he had a friend read him an excerpt from the entire material. He finally fell asleep. Nevertheless, he went to the exam with this friend at the same time. Both really did fail "brilliantly".
[ 11 ] This young man had boundless trust in me. He treated me almost like a confessor for a while. He spread out an interesting, often saddening life before my soul, full of enthusiasm for everything beautiful. He showed me so much friendship and love that it was really difficult not to disappoint him bitterly at one time or another. This happened especially because he often thought that I didn't pay enough attention to him. But it couldn't be otherwise, as I had many a sphere of interest for which I did not meet with his objective understanding. In the end, however, all this only contributed to the friendship becoming ever closer. He spent the vacations in Sibiu every summer. There he collected pupils again, in order to teach them by correspondence from Vienna throughout the year. I always received long letters from him. He suffered from the fact that I rarely or never answered them. But when he came back to Vienna in the fall, he jumped out at me like a boy, and our life together began again. It was thanks to him that I was able to socialize with so many people. He loved to take me to all the people he had contact with. And I craved socializing. The friend brought a lot into my life that gave me joy and warmth.
[ 12 ] This friendship remained one for life until the friend's death a few years ago. It has endured through many a storm of life, and I will still have much to say about it.
[ 13 ] In retrospect, many human and life relationships emerge that still have a full existence in the soul today in feelings of love and gratitude. I cannot describe everything in detail here and must leave some things untouched that were and remain close to me in my personal experience.
[ 14 ] My childhood friendships at the time I am talking about here had a peculiar relationship to the progress of my life. They forced me to lead a kind of double life in my soul. The struggle with the riddles of knowledge that filled my soul, especially at that time, was always of great interest to my friends, but they took little part in it. I remained rather lonely in the experience of these riddles. In contrast, I lived everything that emerged in my friends' lives to the full. Thus two currents of life ran side by side within me: one that I pursued like a lonely wanderer; and the other that I experienced in lively conviviality with people I had grown fond of. But in many cases, the experiences of the second kind were also of profound, lasting significance for my development.
[ 15 ] I must especially remember a friend who was already my classmate in Wiener Neustadt. During this time, however, he was distant from me. It was only in Vienna, where he first visited me often and where he later lived as a civil servant, that he became close to me. However, he had already had an impact on my life in Wiener Neustadt without any external relationship. I once went to a gym class with him. While he was doing gymnastics and I had nothing to do, he left a book next to me. It was Heine's book on "The Romantic School" and "The History of Philosophy in Germany". I glanced at it. This prompted me to read the book myself. I found it very stimulating, but it was in stark contrast to the way in which Heine treated the subject of my life. In the view of a way of thinking and a direction of feeling that was completely opposite to the one that was developing in me, there was a strong stimulus for self-reflection on the inner orientation of life, which was necessary for me according to my soul dispositions.
[ 16 ] Following the book, I then spoke with the classmate. This revealed the inner life of his soul, which later led to the establishment of a lasting friendship. He was a secretive person who only communicated with a few people. Most people thought he was an eccentric. To the few to whom he wanted to communicate, he became very talkative, especially in letters. He saw himself as a man called to be a poet by his inner disposition. He was of the opinion that he carried a great wealth in his soul. He also had a tendency to dream himself into relationships with other, especially female, personalities more than to actually establish these relationships outwardly. At times he was close to such a connection, but could not bring it to a real experience. In conversations with me, he lived out his dreams with an intimacy and enthusiasm as if they were realities. It was inevitable that he would have bitter feelings when the dreams kept slipping away.
[ 17 ] This resulted in a spiritual life for him that had nothing whatsoever to do with his external existence. And this life was again the subject of agonizing introspection, the reflection of which was contained in many letters to me and in conversations. He once wrote me a long discussion about how the smallest and the greatest experiences became symbols for him and how he lived with such symbols.
[ 18 ] I loved this friend, and I responded to his dreams with love, even though I always had the feeling when I was with him that we were moving in the clouds and had no ground. This was a strange experience for me, who was constantly striving to find the solid pillars of life in knowledge. Again and again I had to slip out of my own being and jump into a different skin when I faced this friend. He enjoyed living with me; he also sometimes made far-reaching theoretical observations about the "difference of our natures". Little did he realize how little our thoughts resonated, because the spirit of friendship transcended all thoughts.
[ 19 ] I had a similar experience with another classmate from Vienna-Neustadt. He was in the next year down from me at secondary school, and we only became close when he went to the technical college in Vienna a year later than me. But then we were together a lot. He, too, was little interested in what moved me inwardly in the field of knowledge. He studied chemistry. The scientific views that he held prevented him from communicating with me at that time and from presenting himself as anything other than a doubter of the spiritual view that I held. Later in life, I learned from this friend how close he was in his innermost being to my state of mind even then; but he did not allow this innermost being to emerge at all at that time. And so our lively, long-lasting debates became a "battle against materialism" for me. He always contrasted my belief in the spiritual content of the world with all the refutations that supposedly arose from natural science. Even back then, I had to use everything I had in terms of insight in order to refute the objections against a spiritual understanding of the world that came from the materialistic orientation of thought.
[ 20 ] Once the debate was very lively. Every day after attending the lectures, my friend drove from Vienna to his home, which had remained in Wiener-Neustadt. I often accompanied him through Vienna's Alleegasse to the Südbahnhof. One day we had reached a kind of culmination in the materialism debate, when we had already entered the station and the train was due to leave soon. Then I summarized what I still had to say in the following words: "So you claim that when you say: I think, this is only the necessary effect of the processes in your cerebral nervous system. These processes alone are reality. And so it is when you say: I see this or that, I walk etc. But look: you don't say: my brain thinks, my brain sees this or that, my brain walks. If you had really come to the realization that what you theoretically claim is true, you would have to correct your expression. If you still speak of "I", you are actually lying. But you cannot help but follow your healthy instinct against the whispers of your theory. You are experiencing a different state of affairs than the one your theory advocates. Your consciousness gives the lie to your theory." The friend shook his head. He no longer had time to object. I went back alone, and could only reflect that the objection to materialism in this crude form did not correspond to a particularly exact philosophy. But at that time it was really less important to me to provide a philosophically flawless proof five minutes before the train left than to express my inner certain experience of the nature of the human "I". For me, this "I" was an inwardly comprehensible experience of a reality existing within it. This reality seemed to me no less certain than any reality recognized by materialism. But there is nothing material in it. In the years that followed, this insight into the reality and spirituality of the "I" helped me to overcome all the temptations of materialism. I knew:
[ 21 ] the "I" cannot be shaken. And it was clear to me that the "I" is not known to those who see it as a manifestation, a result of other processes. I wanted to express to my friend that I had this as an inner, spiritual view. We still fought a lot in this field. But we had so many very similar feelings in our general view of life that the intensity of our theoretical battles never turned into even the slightest misunderstanding in our personal relationship. During this time I became more deeply involved in student life in Vienna. I became a member of the "German Reading Hall at the Technical University". In meetings and smaller gatherings, the political and cultural phenomena of the time were discussed in detail. The discussions brought to light all the possible - and impossible - points of view that young people could have. Particularly when officials were to be elected, opinions clashed violently. Much of what was going on among young people in connection with events in Austrian public life was stimulating and exciting. It was the time when national parties were forming in ever sharper form. Everything that later led more and more to the crumbling of the empire in Austria, the consequences of which emerged after the World War, could be experienced in its germs at that time.
[ 22 ] I was initially elected librarian of the "Lesehalle". As such, I sought out all kinds of authors who had written books that I thought might be of value to the student library. I wrote "pump letters" to these authors. I often wrote a hundred such letters in a week. This "work" of mine rapidly increased the size of the library. But it had a side effect for me. It gave me the opportunity to get to know a wide range of the scientific, artistic, cultural-historical and political literature of the time. I was an avid reader of the donated books. Later, I was elected chairman of the "Lesehalle". But that was a difficult office for me. I was faced with a large number of different party viewpoints and saw the relative merits in all of them. Nevertheless, members of the various parties came to me. Everyone wanted to convince me that only their party was right. When I was elected, all the parties voted for me. Because until then they had only heard how I had stood up for what was right in the meetings. When I had been chairman for six months, they all voted against me. Because by then they had found that I could not agree with any party as strongly as they wanted.
[ 23 ] My sociability instinct found ample satisfaction in the "Lesehalle". And it also aroused the interest of wider circles of public life through the reflections of its events in student club life. At the time, I attended many an interesting parliamentary debate in the gallery of the Austrian House of Representatives and House of Lords.
[ 24 ] In addition to the parliamentary measures, which often had a profound impact on life, I was particularly interested in the personalities of the members of parliament. Every year, the subtle philosopher Bartholomew Carneri stood at the corner of his bench as one of the main budget speakers. His words hailed cutting accusations against the Taaffe ministry, they formed a defense of Germanism in Austria. There stood Ernst von Plener, the dry speaker, the undisputed authority on financial matters. One shivered when he criticized Finance Minister Dunajewski's spending with calculating coldness. The Ruthenian Tomasczuck thundered against the nationality policy. One had the feeling that he was trying to invent a word that was particularly well coined for the moment in order to nurture antipathy for the ministers. Lienbacher, the cleric, spoke in a shrewd, peasant way, always clever. His slightly bent head made what he said appear to be the outflow of serene views. Gregr, the young Czech, spoke in his own cutting way, giving the impression that he was half demagogue. There stood Rieger of the Old Czechs, in the deeply characteristic sense of embodied Czechity, as it had been developing for a long time and had become conscious of itself in the second half of the nineteenth century. A man who was rarely self-contained, emotionally full of strength and carried by a sure will. Otto Hausner spoke on the right, in the middle of the Polish benches. He often presented the fruits of his reading in an ingenious manner, often sending factually justified arrows to all sides of the house with a certain comfort. One self-satisfied but clever eye blinked behind a monocle, the other always seemed to say a satisfied "yes" to the blink. A speaker who also occasionally found prophetic words for Austria's future back then. You should read today what he said back then; you would be amazed at his perspicacity. Back then, people even laughed at many things that have become bitterly serious decades later.