The Story of My Life
GA 28
Chapter XVI
[ 1 ] I must number among the happiest hours of my life those which I passed with Gabrielle Reuter, with whom I had the privilege of intimate friendship by reason of this circle. A personality she was who bore within her profound quest of humanity, and who laid hold of them with a certain radicalism of the heart and the sensibilities. In regard to everything which seemed to her a contradiction in the social life she stood with her whole soul half-way between traditional prejudices and the primal claims of human nature. She looked upon woman, who both by life and by education is forced from without into subjection to this traditional prejudice, and who must experience in sorrow that which from the depths of the soul would fain come forth in life as “truth”. Radicalism of the heart expressed in a manner serene and sagacious suffused with artistic feeling and marked by an impressive gift for form – this revealed itself as some thing great in Gabrielle Reuter. Extraordinarily delightful were the conversations one could have with her while she was working at her book Of a Good Family. As I reflect upon the past I see myself standing with her at a street corner, in the blazing heat of the sun, discussing for more than an hour questions by which she was stirred. Gabrielle Reuter could talk in the finest manner, never for a moment losing her serene bearing, about things over which other persons become at once visibly excited. “Exulting to heaven, grieved even to death” – this, indeed, was her feeling within, but it remained in the soul and did not find its way into her words. Gabrielle Reuter laid strong emphasis upon what ever she had to say, but she did so not by means of the voice but only through the soul. I believe that this art of keeping the articulation entirely a matter of the soul, while the audible conversation flows evenly along, was peculiar to her, and it seems to me that in writing she has developed this unique art into her very charming style.
[ 2 ] The admiration felt for Gabrielle Reuter in the Olden circle was something inexpressibly beautiful. Hans Olden said to me many times very solemnly: “This woman is great. Would that I also,” he added, “could rise to such a height and place before the outer world that which moves in the depths of my soul!”
[ 3 ] This circle shared in its own way in the Weimar Goethe affairs. It was in a tone of irony, but never of frivolous scoffing, and yet often aesthetically angry, that the “present” here passed judgment on the “past.” A whole day long would Olden work at his typewriter after a Goethe gathering in order to write an account of the experience, which, according to his feeling, would give the judgment of a man of the world concerning the Goethe prophets.
[ 4 ] Into this tone soon fell also the one other man of the world, Otto Erich Hartleben. He seldom ever missed a Goethe meeting. Yet at first I could never discover why he came.
[ 5 ] It was in the circle of journalists, theatre people, and writers who gathered on the evenings of the Goethe festivals at the Hotel Chemnitius, apart from the learned celebrities, that I became acquainted with Otto Erich Hartleben. Why he was sitting there I could at once perceive. For he was in his element when he could live himself out in conversations such as were then customary. There he would remain for a long while. He could not go away. In this way I once chanced to be with him and others. The rest of us were “of necessity” the next morning at the Goethe meeting; Hartleben was not there. But I had already become fond of him and was concerned at his absence. So at the close of the meeting I looked for him at his hotel room. He was still sleeping. I woke him, and told him that the principal meeting of the Goethe Society was already at an end. I did not understand why he had wished to participate in the Goethe festival in this fashion. But he answered in such a way that I saw it was entirely natural to him to come to Weimar to attend a Goethe gathering in order to sleep during the programme – for he slept away the chief thing for which the others had come.
[ 6 ] I got close to Otto Erich Hartleben in a peculiar fashion. At one of the suppers to which I have referred there was a prolonged conversation regarding Schopenhauer. Many words of admiration and of disapproval had been uttered concerning the philosopher. Hartleben had for a long while been silent Then he entered into the tumultuous revelations of the conversation: “People are aroused by him, but he means nothing for life.” Meanwhile he was looking at me with a childish helplessness; he wished me to say something, for he had heard that I was then occupied with Schopenhauer. I said “Schopenhauer I must consider a narrow-minded genius!”
Hartleben's eyes sparkled; he became restless; he emptied his glass and filled another. In this moment he had locked me up in his heart; his friendship for me was fixed. “Narrow minded genius!” – that suited him. I might just as well have used the expression about some other personality, and it would have been the same thing to him. It interested him deeply to think that one could hold the opinion that even a genius could be narrow-minded.
[ 7 ] For me the Goethe gatherings were fatiguing. For most persons in Weimar during these meetings were either in one circle or the other according to their interests – either in that of the discoursing or dining philologists or in that of the Olden and Hartleben colouring. I had to take part in both.
My interests impelled me in both directions. That went very well since the sessions of one came at night and of the other during the day. But I was not privileged to live after the manner of Otto Erich. I could not sleep during the day sessions. I loved the many-sidedness of life, and was really just as happy at midday in the Institute circle with Suphan, with whom Hartleben had never become acquainted – since this did not appeal to him – as I was in the evenings with Hartleben and his like-minded companions.
[ 8 ] The philosophical tendencies of a succession of men revealed themselves to my mind during my Weimar days. For in the case of each one with whom it was possible to converse about questions of the world and of life, such conversations developed in the intimate relationships of that time. And many persons interested in such discussions came through Weimar.
[ 9 ] I passed through these experiences during that period of life in which the soul is inclined to turn strongly to the outer life; when it must find its firm union with that life. To me the philosophies there expressing themselves were a fragment of the outer world. And I was forced to realize that even until that time I had really lived but very little in touch with an external world. When I withdrew from some living intercourse, then I always became aware at once that up to that time the only trustworthy world for me had been the spiritual world, which I saw in inner vision. With that world I could readily unite myself. So my thoughts often took the direction of saying to myself how hard had been the way for me through the senses to the outer world during all my childhood and youth. It was always difficult for me to fix in my memory such external data, for example, as one must assimilate in the realm of science. I had to look at a natural object again and again in order to know what it was called, in what scientific class of objects it was listed, and the like. I might even say that the sense-world was for me somewhat like a shadow or a picture. It passed before my soul in pictures, whereas my relationship to the spiritual bore always the character of reality.
[ 10 ] All this I experienced in the highest degree during the 'nineties in Weimar. I was then giving the final touches to my Philosophy of Spiritual Activity. I wrote down – so it seemed to me – the thoughts which the spiritual world had given me up to my thirtieth year. All that had come to me from the outer world was only in the nature of a stimulus.
[ 11 ] This I experienced especially when in vital intercourse with men in Weimar. I discussed questions of philosophy. I had to enter into them, into their way of thinking and emotional inclinations; they by no means entered into that which I had inwardly experienced and was still experiencing. I entered with vital intensity into that which others perceived and thought; but I could not cause my own inner spiritual activity to flow over into this world of experience. In my own being I had always to remain behind, within myself. Indeed, my world was separated, as if by a thin partition, from all the outer world.
[ 12 ] In my own soul I lived in a world that bordered on the outer world, but it was always necessary for me to step across a boundary if I wished to have anything to do with the outer world. I was in the most vital intercourse with others, but in every instance I had to pass from my world, as if through a door, in order to engage in this intercourse. This made it seem to me as if each time that I entered into the outer world I was making a visit. Yet this did not hinder me from giving myself up to the most vital participation with one whom I was thus visiting; indeed, I felt entirely at home while on such a visit.
[ 13 ] Thus it was with persons, and thus also with world-concepts. I liked to go to Suphan; I liked to go to Hartleben. Suphan never went to Hartleben; Hartleben never went to Suphan. Neither could enter into the characteristic ways of thinking and feeling of the other. With Suphan, and equally with Hartleben, I was as if at home. But neither Suphan nor Hartleben really came to me. Even when they came to me, they still remained by themselves. To my spiritual world they could, in actual experience, make no visit. [ 14 ] I perceived the most varied world-concepts before my mind – the natural-scientific, the idealistic, and many shades of each. I felt the impulse to enter into these, to move about in them; but into my spiritual world they cast no light. To me they were phenomena standing before me, not realities in which I could truly have lived.
[ 15 ] Thus it was in my soul when life thrust me into immediate contact with such world-concepts as those of Haeckel and Nietzsche. I realized their relative correctness. With my attitude of mind I could never so deal with them as to say “This is right; that is wrong.” In that case I should have felt what was vital in them to be something alien to me. But I found one no more alien than the other; for I felt at home only in the spiritual world of my perception, and I could feel as if at home in every other.
[ 16 ] When I describe the thing thus it may seem as if everything were to me fundamentally a matter of indifference. But such was by no means the case. In this matter I had an entirely different feeling. I was conscious of a full participation in the other because I did not alienate myself from it by reason of the fact that I bore my own along with me both in judgment and feeling.
[ 17 ] I had, for instance, innumerable conversations with Otto Harnach, the gifted author of Goethe in der Epoch seiner Vollendung1Goethe at the Time of His Maturity. who often came at that time to Weimar as he was working at Goethe's art studies. This man, who later became involved in a terrible tragedy, I really loved. I could be wholly Otto Harnach while I was talking with him. I received his thoughts, entered into them as a visitor – in the sense I have indicated – and yet as if at home. It did not even occur to me to invite him to visit me. He could only live alone. He was so woven into his own thought that he felt as something alien to himself everything that was not his own. He would have been able to listen to talk about my world only in such a way that he would have treated it as the Kantian “thing in itself” which lies on the other side of human consciousness. I felt spiritually obliged to deal with his world as such that I did not have to relate myself to it in Kantian fashion but must carry my consciousness over into it.
[ 18 ] I lived thus not without spiritual perils and difficulties. Whoever turns away from everything that does not accord with his way of thinking will not be imposed upon by the relative correctness of the various world-concepts. He can without reserve experience the fascination of that which is thought out in a certain direction. Indeed, this fascination of intellectualism is now in the life of very many persons. They easily adapt themselves to thought which is quite unlike their own. But whoever possesses a world of vision, such as the spiritual world must be, such a person sees the correctness of various “standpoints”; and he must be constantly on guard within his soul not to be too strongly drawn to the one side or the other.
[ 19 ] But one becomes conscious of the “being of the outer world” if one can with love yield oneself up to it and yet must always turn back to the inner world of the spirit. [ 20 ] But one also learns in this process really to live in the spiritual. The various intellectual “standpoints” repudiate one another; spiritual vision sees in them simply “standpoints.” Seen from each of these the world appears differently. It is as if one should photograph a house from various sides. The pictures are different; the house is the same. If one walks around the actual house one receives a comprehensive impression. If one stands really within the spiritual world one allows for the “correctness” of a standpoint. One looks upon a photographic impression from one “standpoint” as some thing “correct.” Then one asks about the correctness and the significance of the standpoint.
[ 21 ] It was in this way that I had to approach Nietzsche, and likewise Haeckel. Nietzsche, I felt, photographs the world from one standpoint to which a profound human personality was driven in the second half of the nineteenth century if he had to live upon the spiritual content of that age alone, if the perception of the spiritual would not break into his consciousness, and yet his will in the subconscious strove with unusual force toward the spiritual. Such was the picture of Nietzsche that lived in my soul; it showed me the personality that did not perceive the spiritual but in which the spirit battled against the unspiritual views of the time.
Chapter XVI
[ 1 ] Zu den schönsten Stunden meines Lebens muß ich zählen, was ich durch Gabriele Reuter erlebte, der ich durch diesen Kreis nahe treten durfte. Eine Persönlichkeit, die in sich tiefe Menschheitsprobleme trug und diese mit einem gewissen Radikalismus des Herzens und der Empfindung anfaßte. Sie stand mit voller Seele in all dem, was ihr im sozialen Leben als Widerspruch erschien zwischen traditionellem Vorurteil und den ursprünglichen Forderungen der Menschennatur. Sie sah hin auf die Frau, die von außen in diese traditionellen Vorurteile durch Leben und Erziehung eingespannt wird, und die leidvoll erfahren muß, was aus den Tiefen der Seele als «Wahrheit» in das Leben hinein will. Radikalismus des Herzens in ruhig-kluger Art ausgesprochen, von künstlerischem Sinn und eindringlicher Gestaltungskraft durchzogen, das offenbarte sich als Größe aus Gabriele Reuter. Unermeßlich reizvoll konnten die Gespräche sein, die man mit ihr, während sie an ihrem Buche «Aus guter Familie» arbeitete, führen durfte. Ich denke zurück und sehe mich mit ihr an einer Straßenecke stehen, bei glühendster Sonnenhitze diskutierend mehr als eine Stunde über Fragen, die sie bewegten. Gabriele Reuter konnte in würdigster Art, keinen Augenblick die ruhige Haltung verlierend, über Dinge sprechen, bei denen andere sogleich in sichtbare Aufregung geraten. «Himmelhoch jauchzend, zu Tode betrübt», das lebte in ihren Gefühlen; doch blieb es in der Seele und zog sich nicht in die Worte hinein. Gabriele Reuter betonte scharf, was sie zu sagen hatte; aber sie tat es nie lautlich, sondern allein seelisch. Ich glaube, daß ihr diese Kunst, bei lautlich gleichmäßigem Hinfließen der Rede die Artikulation ganz im Seelischen zu halten, als Stil besonders eigen ist. Und mir scheint, daß sie im Schreiben diese Eigenart zu ihrem so reizvollen Stil umfassend ausgebildet hat.
[ 2 ] Die Bewunderung, die Gabriele Reuter im Olden'schen Kreise fand, hatte etwas unsäglich Schönes. Hans Olden sagte mir öfters ganz elegisch: diese Frau ist groß, konnte ich mich - fügte er hinzu - doch auch so mutvoll dazu aufschwingen, der äußeren Welt das darzustellen, was mich in der Tiefe der Seele bewegt.
[ 3 ] Dieser Kreis machte auf seine besondere Art die weimarischen Goethe-Veranstaltungen mit. Es war ein Ton von Ironie, der aber nie frivol spottete, sondern oft sogar ästhetisch entrüstet war, was hier als «Gegenwart» die «Vergangenheit» beurteilte. Tagelang stand Olden nach Goethe-Versammlungen an der Schreibmaschine, um über das Erlebte Berichte zu schreiben, die nach seiner Meinung das Urteil des «Weltkindes» über die Goethe-Propheten geben sollten.
[ 4 ] In diesen Ton fiel bald auch der eines anderen «Weltkindes», Otto Erich Hartlebens. Der fehlte fast bei keiner Goethe-Versammlung. Doch konnte ich zunächst nicht recht entdecken, warum er kam.
[ 5 ] In dem Kreise der Journalisten, Theaterleute und Schriftsteller, die sich an den Abenden der Goethe-Feste, abgesondert von den «gelehrten Zelebritäten», im Hotel «Chemnitius» zusammenfanden, lernte ich Otto Erich Hattleben kennen. Warum er da saß, das konnte ich sogleich begreifen. Denn sich in Gesprächen, wie sie da gepflogen wurden, auszuleben, das war sein Element. Da blieb er lange. Er konnte gar nicht fortgehen. So war ich einmal mit ihm und andern zusammen. Wir andern waren «pflichtgemäß» am nächsten Morgen in der Goethe-Versammlung. Hartleben war nicht da. Ich hatte ihn aber schon recht lieb gewonnen und war um ihn besorgt. Deshalb suchte ich ihn nach dem Ende der Versammlung in seinem Hotelzimmer auf. Er schlief noch. Ich weckte ihn und sagte, daß die Hauptversammlung der Goethe-Gesellschaft schon zu Ende sei. Ich begriff nicht, warum er auf diese Art das Goethe-Fest habe mitmachen wollen. Er aber erwiderte so, daß ich sah, ihm war es ganz selbstverständlich, nach Weimar zur Goethe-Versammlung zu fahren, um während deren Veranstaltungen zu schlafen. Denn er verschlief das meiste, weshalb die andern gekommen waren.
[ 6 ] Nahe trat ich Otto Erich Hartleben auf eine besondere Art. An einem der angedeuteten Abendtische entspann sich einmal ein Gespräch über Schopenhauer. Es waren schon viele bewundernde und ablehnende Worte über den Philosophen gefallen. Hartleben hatte lange geschwiegen. Dann sagte er in wildwogende Gesprächsoffenbarungen hinein: «Man wird bei ihm aufgeregt; aber er ist doch nichts für das Leben. » Mich schaute er dabei fragend an, mit kindlich-hilflosem Blicke; er wollte, daß ich etwas sagen sollte, weil er gehört hatte, daß ich mich doch mit Schopenhauer beschäftige. Und ich sagte: «Schopenhauer muß ich für ein borniertes Genie halten. » Hartlebens Augen funkelten, er wurde unruhig, er trank aus und bestellte sich ein frisches Glas, er hatte mich in diesem Augenblicke in sein Herz geschlossen; seine Freundschaft zu mir war begründet. «Borniertes Genie!» Das gefiel ihm. Ich hätte es ebenso gut von einer ganz anderen Persönlichkeit gebrauchen können, es wäre ihm gleichgültig gewesen. Ihn interessierte tief, daß man die Ansicht haben könne, auch ein Genie könne borniert sein.
[ 7 ] Für mich waren die Goethe-Versammlungen anstrengend. Denn die meisten Menschen in Weimar waren während derselben in ihren Interessen entweder in dem einen oder dem andern Kreise, in dem der redenden oder tafelnden Philologen, oder in dem der Olden-Hartlebenschen Färbung. Ich mußte an beiden teilnehmen. Meine Interessen trieben mich eben nach beiden Seiten hin. Das ging, weil die einen ihre Sitzungen bei Tag, die andern bei Nacht hielten. Aber mir war es nicht erlaubt, die Lebensart Otto Erichs einzuhalten. Ich konnte während der Tag-Versammlungen nicht schlafen. Ich liebte die Vielseitigkeit des Lebens, und war wirklich gerade so gerne mittags im Archivkreise bei Suphan, der Hartleben nie kennen gelernt hat - weil sich das für ihn nicht schickte -, wie abends mit Hartleben und seinen Gesinnungsgenossen zusammen.
[ 8 ] Die Weltanschauungsrichtungen einer Reihe von Menschen stellten sich mir während meiner Weimarischen Zeit vor die Seele. Denn mit jedem, mit dem Gespräche über Welt- und Lebensfragen möglich waren, entwickelten sich solche im damaligen unmittelbaren Verkehre. Und durch Weimar kamen eben viele an derartigen Gesprächen interessierte Persönlichkeiten durch.
[ 9 ] Ich verlebte diese Zeit in dem Lebensalter, in dem die Seele sich, ihrer Neigung nach, intensiv dem äußeren Leben zuwendet, in dem sie ihren festen Zusammenschluß mit diesem Leben finden möchte. Mir wurden die sich darlebenden Weltanschauungen ein Stück Außenwelt. Und ich mußte empfinden, wie wenig ich im Grunde bis dahin mit einer Außenwelt gelebt hatte. Wenn ich mich von dem lebhaften Verkehre zurückzog, dann wurde ich gerade damals immer wieder gewahr, daß mir eine vertraute Welt bis dahin nur die geistige, die ich im Innern anschaute, gewesen ist. Mit dieser Welt konnte ich mich leicht verbinden. Und meine Gedanken gingen damals oft nach der Richtung, mir selbst zu sagen, wie schwer mir der Weg durch die Sinne zur Außenwelt während meiner ganzen Kindheit und Jugendzeit geworden ist. Ich habe immer Mühe gehabt, dem Gedächtnisse die äußeren Daten einzuverleiben, die sich anzueignen z. B. auf dem Gebiete der Wissenschaft notwendig ist. Ich mußte oft und oft ein Naturobjekt sehen, wenn ich wissen sollte, wie man es nennt, in welche Klasse es wissenschaftlich eingereiht ist usw. Ich darf schon sagen: die Sinneswelt hatte für mich etwas Schattenhaftes, Bildhaftes. Sie zog in Bildern vor meiner Seele vorbei, während der Zusammenhalt mit dem Geistigen durchaus den echten Charakter des Wirklichen trug.
[ 10 ] Das alles empfand ich am meisten in dem Anfang der neunziger Jahre in Weimar. Ich legte damals die letzte Hand an meine «Philosophie der Freiheit». Ich schrieb, so fühlte ich, die Gedanken nieder, die mir die geistige Welt bis zu der Zeit meines dreißigsten Lebensjahres gegeben hatte. Alles, was mir durch die äußere Welt gekommen war, hatte nur den Charakter einer Anregung.
[ 11 ] Ich empfand das besonders, wenn ich in dem lebendigen Verkehre in Weimar mit andern Menschen über Weltanschauungsfragen sprach. Ich mußte auf sie, ihre Denkart und Gefühlsrichtung eingehen; sie gingen auf das gar nicht ein, was ich im Innern erlebt hatte und weiter erlebte. Ich lebte ganz intensiv mit dem, was andere sahen un*d dachten; aber ich konnte in diese erlebte Welt meine innere geistige Wirklichkeit nicht hineinfließen lassen. Ich mußte mit meinem eigenen Wesen immer in mir zurückbleiben. Es war wirklich meine Welt wie durch eine dünne Wand von aller Außenwelt abgetrennt.
[ 12 ] Mit meiner eigenen Seele lebte ich in einer Welt, die an die Außenwelt angrenzt; aber ich hatte immer nötig, eine Grenze zu überschreiten, wenn ich mit der Außenwelt etwas zu tun haben wollte. Ich stand im lebhaftesten Verkehre; aber ich mußte in jedem einzelnen Falle aus meiner Welt wie durch eine Türe in diesen Verkehr eintreten. Das ließ mir die Sache so erscheinen, als ob ich jedesmal, wenn ich an die Außenwelt herantrat, einen Besuch machte. Das aber hinderte mich nicht, mich mit lebhaftestem Anteile dem hinzugeben, bei dem ich zu Besuch war; ich fühlte mich sogar ganz heimisch, während ich zu Besuch war.
[ 13 ] So war es mit Menschen, so war es mit Weltanschauungen. Ich ging gerne zu Suphan, ich ging gerne zu Hartleben. Suphan ging nie zu Hartleben; Hartleben nie zu Suphan. Keiner konnte in des andern Denk- und Gefühlsrichtung eintreten. Ich war sogleich bei Suphan, sogleich bei Hartleben wie zu Hause. Aber weder Suphan noch Hartleben kamen eigentlich zu mir. Sie blieben auch, wenn sie zu mir kamen, bei sich. In meiner geistigen Welt konnte ich keine Besuche erleben.
[ 14 ] Ich sah die verschiedensten Weltanschauungen vor meiner Seele. Die naturwissenschaftliche, die idealistische und viele Nuancen der beiden. Ich fühlte den Drang, auf sie einzugehen, mich in ihnen zu bewegen; in meine geistige Welt warfen sie eigentlich kein Licht. Sie waren mir Erscheinungen, die vor mir standen, nicht Wirklichkeiten, in die ich mich hätte einleben können.
[ 15 ] So stand es in meiner Seele, als das Leben mir unmittelbar nahe rückte Weltanschauungen wie diejenige Haeckels und Nietzsches. Ich empfand ihre relative Berechtigung. Ich konnte durch meine Seelenverfassung sie nicht so behandeln, daß ich sagte: das ist richtig, das unrichtig. Da hätte ich, was in ihnen lebt, als mir fremd empfinden müssen. Aber ich empfand die eine nicht fremder als die andere; denn heimisch fühlte ich mich nur in der angeschauten geistigen Welt, und «wie zu Hause» konnte ich mich in jeder andern fühlen.
[ 16 ] Wenn ich das so schildere, kann es scheinen, als ob mir im Grunde alles gleichgültig gewesen wäre. Das war es aber durchaus nicht. Ich hatte darüber eine ganz andere Empfindung. Ich empfand mich mit vollem Anteil in dem anderen darinnen, weil ich es mir nicht dadurch entfremdete, daß ich sogleich das Eigene in Urteil und Empfindung hineintrug.
[ 17 ] Ich führte z. B. unzählige Gespräche mit Otto Harnack, dem geistvollen Verfasser des Buches «Goethe in der Epoche seiner Vollendung», der damals viel nach Weimar kam, weil er über Goethes Kunststudien arbeitete. Der Mann, der dann später in eine erschütternde Lebenstragik verfallen ist, war mir lieb. Ich konnte ganz Otto Harnack sein, wenn ich mit ihm sprach. Ich nahm seine Gedanken hin, lebte mich - im gekennzeichneten Sinne - zu Besuch, aber «wie zu Hause» in sie ein. Ich dachte gar nicht daran, ihn zu mir zu Besuch zu bitten. Er konnte nur bei sich leben. Er war so in seine Gedanken eingesponnen, daß er alles als fremd empfand, was nicht das Seinige war. Er hätte von meiner Welt nur so hören können, daß er sie wie das Kant'sche «Ding an sich» behandelt hätte, das «jenseits des Bewußtseins» liegt. Ich fühlte mich geistig verpflichtet, seine Welt als eine solche zu behandeln, zu der ich mich nicht kantisch zu verhalten hatte, sondern in die ich das Bewußtsein hinüberleiten mußte.
[ 18 ] Ich lebte so nicht ohne geistige Gefahren und Schwierigkeiten. Wer alles ablehnt, was nicht in seiner Denkrichtung liegt, der wird nicht bedrängt von der relativen Berechtigung, die die verschiedenen Weltanschauungen haben. Er kann rückhaltlos das Faszinierende dessen empfinden, was nach einer bestimmten Richtung ausgedacht ist. Dieses Faszinierende des Intellektualismus lebt ja in so vielen Menschen. Sie werden leicht mit dem fertig, was anders gedacht ist als das ihrige. Wer aber eine Welt der Anschauung hat, wie sie die geistige sein muß, der sieht die Berechtigung der verschiedensten «Standpunkte»; und er muß sich fortwährend im Innern seiner Seele wehren, um nicht zu stark zu dem einen oder dem andern hingelenkt zu werden.
[ 19 ] Man wird aber schon das «Wesen der Außenwelt» gewahr, wenn man in Liebe an sie hingegeben sein kann, und doch immer wieder zur Innenwelt des Geistes zurückkehren muß. Man lernt aber dabei auch, wirklich im Geistigen zu leben.
[ 20 ] Die verschiedenen intellektuellen «Standpunkte» lehnen einander ab; die geistige Anschauung sieht in ihnen eben «Standpunkte». Von jedem derselben aus gesehen, nimmt sich die Welt anders aus. Es ist, wie wenn man ein Haus von verschiedenen Seiten photographiert. Die Bilder sind verschieden; das Haus ist dasselbe. Geht man um das wirkliche Haus herum, so erhält man einen Gesamteindruck. Steht man wirklich in der geistigen Welt darinnen, so läßt man das «Richtige» eines Standpunktes gelten. Man sieht eine photographische Aufnahme von einem «Standpunkte» aus als etwas Berechtigtes an. Man frägt dann nach der Berechtigung und Bedeutung des Standpunktes.
[ 21 ] So mußte ich z. B. an Nietzsche, so mußte ich auch an Haeckel herantreten. Nietzsche, so fühlte ich, photographiert die Welt von einem Standpunkte aus, zu dem eine tiefangelegte Menschenwesenheit in der zweiten Hälfte des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts hingedrängt wurde, wenn sie von dem geistigen Inhalte dieses Zeitalters allein leben konnte, wenn in ihr Bewußtsein die Anschauung des Geistes nicht hereinbrechen wollte, der Wille im Unterbewußtsein mit ungemein starken Kräften aber zum Geist hindrängte. So lebte in meiner Seele das Bild Nietzsches auf; es zeigte mir die Persönlichkeit, die den Geist nicht schaute, in der aber der Geist unbewußt kämpft gegen die ungeistigen Anschauungen der Zeit.
Chapter XVI
[ 1 ] I must count what I experienced through Gabriele Reuter, whom I was able to get close to through this circle, as one of the most beautiful hours of my life. A personality who carried within her deep human problems and approached them with a certain radicalism of heart and feeling. She stood with all her soul in everything that appeared to her in social life as a contradiction between traditional prejudice and the original demands of human nature. She looked at the woman, who is constrained from the outside by these traditional prejudices through life and upbringing, and who must painfully experience what wants to enter life as "truth" from the depths of the soul. Radicalism of the heart expressed in a calm and intelligent way, permeated by artistic sense and forceful creative power, that is what Gabriele Reuter revealed as greatness. The conversations I had with her while she was working on her book "Aus guter Familie" were immeasurably delightful. I think back and see myself standing on a street corner with her, discussing questions that moved her for more than an hour in the blazing heat of the sun. Gabriele Reuter was able to talk in the most dignified manner, never losing her calm demeanor for a moment, about things that would immediately get others visibly excited. "Rejoicing to the skies, saddened to death" was alive in her feelings; yet it remained in her soul and did not become part of her words. Gabriele Reuter emphasized sharply what she had to say; but she never did it vocally, only emotionally. I believe that this art of keeping the articulation entirely in the soul while keeping the speech flowing evenly is particularly characteristic of her style. And it seems to me that in her writing she has fully developed this characteristic into her charming style.
[ 2 ] There was something unspeakably beautiful about the admiration Gabriele Reuter found in Olden's circle. Hans Olden often said to me quite elegiacally: this woman is great, could I - he added - also rise so courageously to present to the outside world what moves me in the depths of my soul.
[ 3 ] This circle took part in the Weimar Goethe events in its own special way. It was a tone of irony that never mocked frivolously, but was often even aesthetically indignant, judging the "past" as the "present". For days after Goethe meetings, Olden stood at the typewriter to write reports on what he had experienced, which in his opinion were intended to give the verdict of the "child of the world" on the Goethe prophets.
[ 4 ] This tone was soon echoed by another "child of the world", Otto Erich Hartleben. He was present at almost every Goethe meeting. But at first I couldn't quite discover why he came.
[ 5 ] I got to know Otto Erich Hattleben in the circle of journalists, theater people and writers who gathered in the Hotel Chemnitius on the evenings of the Goethe Festivals, separated from the "learned celebrities". I immediately understood why he was sitting there. Because his element was to indulge in the kind of conversations that were held there. He stayed there for a long time. He couldn't leave at all. So I was once with him and others. The rest of us were "dutifully" at the Goethe meeting the next morning. Hartleben wasn't there. But I had already grown quite fond of him and was worried about him. That's why I went to see him in his hotel room after the end of the meeting. He was still asleep. I woke him up and told him that the general meeting of the Goethe Society was already over. I didn't understand why he had wanted to take part in the Goethe Festival in this way. But he replied in such a way that I could see it was quite natural for him to travel to Weimar for the Goethe meeting in order to sleep during its events. Because he slept through most of what the others had come for.
[ 6 ] I came close to Otto Erich Hartleben in a special way. At one of the indicated evening tables, a conversation about Schopenhauer once unfolded. Many admiring and dismissive words had already been spoken about the philosopher. Hartleben had been silent for a long time. Then he said in the midst of wild revelations: "He gets you excited; but he's not for life. " He looked at me questioningly, with a childishly helpless look; he wanted me to say something because he had heard that I was studying Schopenhauer. And I said: "I must think Schopenhauer a narrow-minded genius. " Hartleben's eyes sparkled, he became restless, he finished his drink and ordered a fresh glass, he had taken me into his heart at that moment; his friendship with me was well founded. "Born genius!" He liked that. I could just as well have used it of a completely different personality, he wouldn't have cared. He was deeply interested in the fact that one could have the opinion that a genius could also be narrow-minded.
[ 7 ] The Goethe meetings were exhausting for me. Most of the people in Weimar were either in one circle or the other, in that of the philologists who talked or dined, or in that of the Olden-Hartleben coloration. I had to take part in both. My interests drove me in both directions. This was possible because some held their meetings by day, others by night. But I was not allowed to follow Otto Erich's way of life. I couldn't sleep during the daytime meetings. I loved the variety of life and really enjoyed being with Suphan, who never got to know Hartleben - because it wasn't convenient for him - at lunchtime in the archive circle just as much as being with Hartleben and his like-minded colleagues in the evening.
[ 8 ] The worldviews of a number of people presented themselves to me during my time in Weimar. Because with everyone with whom it was possible to talk about world and life issues, such conversations developed in the immediate vicinity. And many people interested in such conversations passed through Weimar.
[ 9 ] I lived through this time at the age when the soul, according to its inclination, turns intensively to external life, in which it wants to find its firm connection with this life. The world views that presented themselves became a part of the outside world to me. And I had to realize how little I had actually lived with an outside world until then. When I withdrew from the lively traffic, I realized again and again that until then only the spiritual world, which I looked at inwardly, had been a familiar world to me. I could easily connect with this world. And my thoughts at that time often went in the direction of telling myself how difficult the path through the senses to the outside world had become for me during my entire childhood and youth. I always found it difficult to assimilate external data into my memory, which is necessary in the field of science, for example. I had to see a natural object often and often if I wanted to know what it was called, what class it belonged to scientifically, and so on. I may say that the sensory world had something shadowy and pictorial for me. It passed before my soul in images, while the connection with the spiritual had the genuine character of the real.
[ 10 ] I felt all of this most in the early nineties in Weimar. I was putting the finishing touches to my "Philosophy of Freedom". I wrote down, I felt, the thoughts that the spiritual world had given me up to the age of thirty. Everything that had come to me through the outer world had only the character of a suggestion.
[ 11 ] I felt this especially when I talked to other people about worldview issues in the lively discussions in Weimar. I had to respond to them, their way of thinking and their way of feeling; they did not respond at all to what I had experienced and was still experiencing inside. I lived very intensely with what others saw and thought; but I could not let my inner spiritual reality flow into this experienced world. I always had to remain within myself with my own being. It really was my world as if separated from the outside world by a thin wall.
[ 12 ] With my own soul I lived in a world that bordered on the outside world; but I always had to cross a boundary if I wanted to have anything to do with the outside world. I was in the liveliest intercourse; but in every single case I had to enter this intercourse from my world as through a door. This made it seem to me as if I were paying a visit every time I approached the outside world. But that did not prevent me from devoting myself with the most lively interest to the person I was visiting; I even felt completely at home while I was visiting.
[ 13 ] So it was with people, so it was with world views. I liked going to Suphan, I liked going to Hartleben. Suphan never went to Hartleben; Hartleben never went to Suphan. Neither could enter into the other's way of thinking and feeling. I was immediately with Suphan, immediately with Hartleben as at home. But neither Suphan nor Hartleben actually came to me. Even when they came to me, they stayed with themselves. I couldn't experience any visits in my spiritual world.
[ 14 ] I saw the most diverse world views before my soul. The scientific, the idealistic and many nuances of both. I felt the urge to enter into them, to move within them; they did not really shed any light on my spiritual world. They were apparitions that stood before me, not realities that I could have lived into.
[ 15 ] So it was in my soul when life brought world views such as Haeckel's and Nietzsche's closer to me. I felt their relative justification. Due to the state of my soul, I could not treat them in such a way that I said: this is right, that is wrong. I would have had to perceive what lives in them as alien to me. But I did not feel one more alien than the other; for I only felt at home in the spiritual world I looked at, and I could feel "at home" in each other.
[ 16 ] When I describe it like this, it can seem as if I was basically indifferent to everything. But that wasn't the case at all. I had a completely different feeling about it. I felt myself fully involved in the other, because I did not alienate it from myself by immediately bringing my own into my judgment and feelings.
[ 17 ] I had countless conversations, for example, with Otto Harnack, the witty author of the book "Goethe in der Epoche seiner Vollendung" (Goethe in the Era of His Perfection), who came to Weimar a lot at the time because he was working on Goethe's art studies. The man, who later fell into a shattering life tragedy, was dear to me. I could be Otto Harnack when I spoke to him. I accepted his thoughts, settled into them - in the marked sense - as a visitor, but "as if at home". I didn't even think about asking him to visit me. He could only live with himself. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he felt everything that wasn't his was foreign. He could only have heard about my world if he had treated it like the Kantian "thing in itself", which lies "beyond consciousness". I felt spiritually obliged to treat his world as one to which I did not have to relate in a Kantian way, but into which I had to lead consciousness.
[ 18 ] I did not live like this without spiritual dangers and difficulties. Anyone who rejects everything that is not in his line of thought is not oppressed by the relative justification that the various world views have. He can unreservedly feel the fascination of what is conceived according to a certain direction. This fascination of intellectualism lives in so many people. They can easily cope with what is conceived differently from their own. But he who has a world of view, as it must be the spiritual one, sees the justification of the most diverse "points of view"; and he must continually defend himself within his soul so as not to be drawn too strongly towards one or the other.
[ 19 ] But one already becomes aware of the "essence of the outer world" when one can be devoted to it in love and yet must always return to the inner world of the spirit. But you also learn to really live in the spiritual world.
[ 20 ] The various intellectual "standpoints" reject each other; the spiritual view sees them as "standpoints". Seen from each of them, the world looks different. It is like photographing a house from different sides. The pictures are different; the house is the same. If you walk around the real house, you get an overall impression. If you are really standing inside it in the spiritual world, then you accept the "right" point of view. One sees a photographic image from a "point of view" as something justified. One then asks about the justification and meaning of the point of view.
[ 21 ] This is how I had to approach Nietzsche, for example, and Haeckel. Nietzsche, I felt, photographed the world from a point of view to which a deeply conceived human being was pushed in the second half of the nineteenth century, when it could live on the spiritual content of this age alone, when the contemplation of the spirit did not want to break into its consciousness, but the will in the subconscious pushed towards the spirit with immensely strong forces. Thus the image of Nietzsche came to life in my soul; it showed me the personality that did not see the spirit, but in which the spirit unconsciously fights against the unspiritual views of the time.