Dear Jüngerites:
Since DIE SCHERE #24 & 25 are related, permit me to essay a vernacular
English translation, building on the versions done by Walter and
taking Richard's comments into account.
#24 text:
Es spricht für Schopenhauers geistige Unbefangenheit, daß er sich
eingehend mit dem Grenzproblem des Zweiten Gesichts beschäftigt hat. Er
rechnet es dem »transzendenten Fatalismus« zuder Überzeugung von der
Vorausbestimmung künftiger Dinge, die auf persönlicher Erfahrung beruht.
Für Schopenhauer ist die Weltgeschichte eigentlich nur die Abfolge
zufälliger Konstellationenreal dagegen ist der Einzelne. Ihm allein
kommt eine unmittelbare metaphysische Beziehung zu. »Daher ist sein
Lebenslauf, so verworren er auch scheinen mag, ein in sich
übereinstimmendes, bestimmte Tendenz und belehrenden Sinn habendes
Ganzes, so gut wie das durchdachteste Epos.«
#24 translation:
It speaks well for Schopenhauer's intellectual openness that he
carefully considered the borderline problem of second sight. He
attributed it to "transcendental fatalism"--the conviction,
based on personal experience, that one can sense future things
in advance.
For Schopenhauer world history is actually only the sequence of
chance constellations--real against this is the individual. He
alone is granted a direct metaphysical relationship. "Thus his
life's course, disordered as it may seem, is an interrelated
whole with a definite direction and an edifying meaning, as good
as the most carefully composed epic."
#25 text:
Das Zweite Gesicht ist, besonders auf keltischen Böden, eine nicht
seltene Erscheinung; Spuren davon finden sich, gewissermaßen als
Stammwürze, bei irischen Romanciers. Es auf einen zerebralen Vorgang zu
reduzieren, dürfte schwierig sein. Als Vorschau ist es der Prophezeiung
ähnlich, obwohl das Erhabene keine Rolle spielt. Absenz, Entrückung geht
hier wie dort voraus. Näher liegt die Verwandtschaft mit epileptischen
Anfällen.
Die Entrückung kommt unvermutet; sie zeigt Nebendinge, auch Unfälle,
Begräbnisse, »Vorbrände«. Soldaten in fremden Uniformen werden nicht als
Feinde wahrgenommen, sondern wie sie ein Kind am Wegrand sieht. Die
Visionen reichen nur über einige Jahre hinaus, sind bodenständig, die
Bestätigung kann schon am nächsten Morgen eintreten. Französische
Kürassiere ritten durch Westfalen, als Napoleon noch Kriegsschüler war.
#25 translation:
Second sight is not a rare occurrence, especially on Celtic
soil. Traces are found--as the leavening yeast, so to speak--
among the Irish romantics. To reduce it to a cerebral process
should be difficult. As foresight it is akin to prophecy,
though the elevated plays no roll. Nothingness, transport
precede the one and the other. Closer lies the relationship
with epileptic fits.
The transport comes unexpectedly; it shows subliminal things,
even accidents, funerals, "fires about to start." Soldiers in
foreign uniforms are not perceived as enemies, but as a child at
the side of the road sees them. The visions reach only a few
years ahead, are close to home, confirmation can arrive the next
morning. French curassiers were riding through Westfalia while
Napoleon was still attending military school.
************************************
Comments:
Again Jnger is trying to prove that no matter what you do, it
has meaning. If you walk out into the street and get killed,
your life has as much meaning as if you reached the other side
and discovered the cure for cancer. Pursuing this paradoxical
and disturbing thought, he is now reaching into the
metaphysical. It turns out that some people can sense this
element; they can see the chance happenings in advance, chance
happenings that would seem to spoil man's plans, but that
actually advance or complete each individual story. They are in
tune with "metaphysical fatalism."
I have been thinking about this, and I think it opposes two
perspectives. Let us consider the world of classical music.
Schubert's "unfinished symphony" (traditionally his 8th, but
actually his 7th) was, indeed, not completed. Yet it has
enjoyed unparallelled fame as "the unfinished symphony"--
something wonderful and mysterious in its own right. Some
commentators have felt that its two movements are so magnificent
that it could never have been finished. The same thing is said
about Bruckner's unfinished 9th. Mahler's 10th, on the other
hand, was left unfinished, but with sketches that musicologists
used to finish for him, giving rise to controversy, intensified
attention to Mahler's style and perhaps even greater
appreciation for his art. So for Schubert, Bruckner and Mahler
lack of completion was not so bad--their story was told. And
what about Pergolesi, who died so young--1710-1736? Well, a
legend grew up about him, and other composers wrote or
fabricated works attributed to him; he enjoys a special
distinction in the history of music. And Arriaga, who died even
younger--1806-1826? Aha, he is known as "the Spanish Mozart"
and famed for his precocious talent. So this is one
perspective--the post-mortem verdict, the fatalistic "what is,
is good." It is Jnger's perspective: no matter when someone
dies, people afterwards will find a way to interpret the life,
and so it will have meaning.
The second perspective, which Jnger discards, retains the "what
if"? What if Juan Crisostomo de Arriaga had lived more than
twenty years? Can there be any doubt that he would have written
operas and symphonies and concertos on the level of the great
masters? He would have been not just "the Spanish Mozart"
prized for his youthful promise, but Spain's greatest composer
whose works would have delighted the world for 150 years, whose
works would still have a history, a tradition, followers. And
this was what he wanted, this was his intended life's course.
From this point of view Arriaga and Mozart and Schubert, not to
mention Bruckner and Mahler, did not complete their task: their
lives were cut off, and it is a great shame--a personal tragedy
and a loss for mankind. Sibelius, on the other hand, did not
like his 8th symphony and burned it: he believed his 7th was
the proper conclusion to his work. We would like to hear it,
even though he did not want us to, but we cannot really mourn
its loss. He lived a long life (1865-1957); he completed his
task. He is for Finland and the world what Arriaga would have
been for Spain and the world. So what is, is not necessarily
good. This is the human perspective, the one that Jnger wants
to overthrow.
There is yet a third category of people--those who did not make
it to public consciousness. Composers who failed to get
performed, or who were imprisoned and died in concentration
camps or in Siberian wastes. We can speak of them only in the
abstract, since we don't know them individually. But
individually their lives were cut off, and no one writes a post-
mortem story about them. Only to themselves, in their misery
before death, could they sum up their lives and hope for a
moment of meaning. In other words, the 12 million or more
Ukrainian peasants who starved to death during Stalin's enforced
famine of 1933-34 have meaning in the history books, they tell
a story "as good as the most carefully composed epic," but
Comrade Three Million Seven Hundred Thousand and Thirty-Three
leaves no trace, at most a scratch mark, and dies without
fulfillment, meaning or notice. What is for him is definitely
not good.
I think that Jnger's fatalistic thought can save us from
excessive worry about our accomplishments or excessive grief
about our losses, but it risks being used a panacea for all
ills. We must retain the human perspective and try to get things done,
or else flatten ourselves out into fatalistic yogis whose perspective is
the same as that of the indifferent stars. As for sensing in
advance that the story will be told, one way or the other,
where's the wonder?
GK
