Heinrich of Ofterdingen

Chapter 8

Heinrich's mother and Grandfather rejoiced over Heinrich's good news, and looked at Matilda as a Guardian Angel for their son.

In the afternoon Klingsohr led his new son to his Library to see his books. Afterwards they spoke of poetry.

'I do not know' said Klingsohr, 'why nature is commonly termed poetic. There is in nature as in humanity a principal of dull indifference and callousness which wars against poetry. This struggle would be beautiful material for a poem. Whole countries and epochs seem to stand under this spirit of antagonism to poetry, whereas other lands and ages seem to be visibly animated by the true spirit of poetry. These epochs of struggle are particularly intriguing and rewarding for the historian. They are usually the time when poets are born. In the heat of the battle the two contending elements seem to exchange weapons. The cruel shafts which her enemy has prepared recoil on her own head, and poetry overcoming all evil, shines out more attractive and pleasant than she had before.'

'War' said Heinrich 'has always seemed to me to be full of poetry. People fly to arms to defend some wretched possession, and do not see that they are following some mighty impulse to overcome evil. Both armies follow an invisible banner.'

'War' Klingsohr responded 'is the stirring of elemental strife. It dissolves and then gives rise to new worlds and new races. The most destructive and insane of all are the religious wars. Many wars, especially those which rise from national hatred belong to the same class, and are genuine epics. Here the true hero is at home, the noblest subject of poets, embued with poetry and might. A poet who is at the same time a hero, is a divine ambassador, but poetry has not yet portrayed him.'

'How so, dear father? Can any object be too difficult for poetry?'

'Certainly, not so much because of poetry, but due to our earthly means and tools. A poet must keep within circumscribed limits, or he will lose his breath and his way. So too with all human powers, there is a boundary over which we cannot cross without losing all force and reality, and sinking into an empty deceiving absurdity. As an apprentice one cannot guard himself enough from these revels, since an over-lively imagination proceeds too gladly beyond the boundaries. Riper experience teaches us to avoid disproportional subjects, to hold to the simple, and leave research into the infinite to philosophy. The poet must avoid too high a flight, lest he should lose the variety and contrast necessary for the development of his subject. In every poem we can see the chaos out of which it rose. It is only the wealth of the composition in its gracefulness and comprehensibility, that we see in contrast the bare harmony of a dry subject. The best poetry is quite close to us, and not rarely an everyday subject is the best material. For the poet, poetry is bounded by the limited tools and for that reason rises to the height of fine art. Language has its own defined limits, and the vernacular is even narrower. Through practice and meditation the poet gets to know his language. He knows precisely what he can do with it, and will not make a foolish attempt to stretch it beyond its powers. Only rarely will he put forth all its powers in a single point, otherwise he will tire the reader and destroy the precious effect of a balanced whole. He is a mere charlatan and not a poet who delights in eccentricities.

'Poets cannot learn enough from musicians and painters. In these arts it is clear how necessary it is for economy of striking effects, and how these must be skilfully treated. In their turn these artists can learn from us how all works of art assume a poetic independence. They should grow more poetical, and we more musical and picturesque, all after the manner of our own art. The goal of art is not its subject but its expression.. You will soon see which poems touch you most, certainly those on subjects you are familiar with. One can say that the foundation of poetry is experience. In my youth I loved wild and impossible themes, but the result was poor empty words without a spark of true poetry. A fairy tale too, is a very difficult task, and it is rare that a young poet will succeed in it.'

'I would love to hear one of yours, ' said Heinrich. 'I have heard very few, but those I have heard have charmed me.'

'This evening I will do as you wish. I recall one I composed in my youth, and it bears the evident marks. Perhaps it will be instructive and remind you of what I have told you.'

'Language' said Heinrich 'is really a miniature world of signs and harmonies. A person masters it, and in the same way he happily masters the larger world, and freely expresses himself in it. And it is in this delight of revealing our inner world to the larger world, and exercising ourselves there, that we see the original drive of our existence, and the source of poetry.'

'It is sad that Poetry had to have its own particular name, and poets considered a separate class.' replied Klingsohr. 'Poetry is nothing particular or separate, it is the manifestation of the human spirit. Everyone, at every moment is striving to compose thought.' Just then, Matilda entered the room. 'One needs only to consider love. Nowhere else is the necessity of poetry to the existence of humanity as clear as in love. Love is mute. Only poetry can speak for it. Love is the highest form of natural poetry. However I do not want to tell you things that you know better than myself.'

'You are the father of love ' said Heinrich 'embracing Matilda, and kissing his hand.'

Klingsohr hugged them both, and left the room.

'Dear Matilda' said Heinrich after a long kiss. It seems like a dream that you are mine, but it seems even more unreal that you have not always been so.'

'It seems to me' said Matilda 'that I have always known you. Do you truly love me?'

'I do not know what love is,' said Heinrich 'but I can say that I feel as if I have just begun to live, and I would die for you in an instant. At last I understand what eternal life may be.'

'My dear Heinrich, how good you are, you speak with a wonderful spirit, but I am only a poor and insignificant girl. You love me so deeply, but without you I would be nothing. What is a spirit without the heavens, and you are the heavens which bear and receive me. What a blessed creature I would be if you were to be as faithful as my father. My mother died shortly after my birth, and seldom a day goes by when he does not weep for her. I do not deserve it, but I would like to be happier than he. I would gladly live a long life by your side, I become so much better through you '

'Ah Matilda, death will not separate us'

'No Heinrich, where you are, there I will be'

'Yes Matilda, where you are there will I be eternally. I cannot comprehend eternity except through my love for you. We are eternal because we love each other.'

'You cannot think dear Heinrich, how devoutly I prayed this morning before the Holy Virgin. I believed I would dissolve into tears, and when I looked at her she seemed to smile. Now for the first time I am beginning to know gratitude.

'Matilda, I adore you. You are the saint who brings my prayers to God, through whom he reveals himself to me, through whom he makes known his overflowing love. What is religion but an endless agreement, an eternal union of loving hearts? Where two are gathered, He is with them. I need to breathe you eternally, you are the divine glory and eternal life in the loveliest form.'

'Oh Heinrich, you know the fate of roses. Will you still love pale cheeks and press faded lips to your own? Will not the marks of old age be the marks of passing love as well?

'Oh that you could see through my eyes into my thoughts. But you love me and believe me too. I cannot imagine that your charms could be transitory, they draw me to you inseparably. They have woken an eternal longing in me that is not from this time. If you could only understand how I see the wonderful image in my heart that lights my world, you would never fear age. Your earthly form is but a shadow of this picture. The earthly powers struggle to conceive it, but nature is still immature, the picture is an eternal creation, part of the unknown holy world.'

'I understand you Heinrich, because when I look at you, I see something similar.'

'Yes Matilda, the higher world is nearer to us than we generally think. Already we live in it, and we discern it interwoven at the deepest level of our earthly life.'

'You will reveal much to me of wonderful matters, my most loved.'

'Oh Matilda, my capacity to speak out reality comes from you. Everything I have is yours. Your love is the holy sanctuary of my life. You lead me into the inner sanctum of my imagination, and inspire me to the ultimate views. Who knows whether our love may not raise us from earth and carry us to our heavenly home, before age and death reaches us? Is it not already a miracle that you are mine, that I hold you in my arms, that you love me, and are willing to be mine eternally?

'Within me too all is believable, and I too feel animated by a holy flame. Who knows whether it will indeed transfigure us, and gradually dissolve our earthly bonds. Tell me Heinrich, do you have the same boundless confidence in me as I have in you? I have never felt it before, even in my Father, and I love him dearly.'

'Dear Matilda, it tortures me that I cannot tell you everything at once, and open my whole heart at once. It is the first time in my life that I am completely open. I have no secret thoughts or sensations hidden from you, you must know everything. My whole being wants to mix with yours. Only the most boundless devotion is sufficient for my love, and in that devotion my love lives. It is a mysterious flowing together of our most secret and intimate existence.'

'Heinrich, never have two people loved so much'

I can quite believe it, there never was a Matilda before'

'Nor a Heinrich.'

'Tell me once again you are mine forever, and that our love is endless.'

'Yes Heinrich, I am eternally yours, I swear on the invisible presence of my mother.'

'I swear I am eternally yours, as truly as love has taught us the presence of God.'

'One long embrace and countless kisses sealed the eternal union of the blessed pair.

to chapter 9